The Devil's Symphony
Disclaimer: I'm so happy D. Gray -Man is back! Unfortunately, it doesn't belong to me. And thank goodness for that. Otherwise, it would suck.
Chapter 7: The Instruments
A/N: Enjoy. *raises a cup of wine to you, then sips it.*
He had never planned on it, but his body moved on his own.
After their meeting the previous afternoon, Allen had been contemplating whether or not he should bring up his dream.
Lenalee had noticed his sudden anxiety as these thoughts ran through his mind. All the while they had sat around the fireplace and watched television. But he hadn't taken a sip of his hot chocolate once and had been silent throughout the whole two hours they had been seated in place, watching Mission Impossible III.
And just as she thought this, Allen spoke up.
"Komui-san," he began, "There is something important I need to tell you."
The older man's eyes flickered away from the TV to catch the look on Allen's face briefly.
"Yes, Allen?"
Lenalee watched silently, her eyes following the two men's movements carefully.
Allen suddenly looked sheepish to have wanted to tell Komui what he had been thinking.
"I-"
He stopped short, recomposing himself.
He gulped, and then started again.
"I had this dream…"
Lenalee withheld her shock from her expression ad sipped her hot chocolate.
She hadn't anticipated this.
She hadn't thought that Allen, who disclosed his dreams not even to her, would easily reveal them to her brother.
"Go on."
Amethyst eyes followed Allen's Adam's apple as he gulped.
"There was a city."
He took a breath, perspiration already forming in little droplets on his forehead.
"It was completely whitewashed, entirely bare and empty of inhabitants."
This time, he looked Komui in the eyes, seemingly more confident of reconciling the whole matter.
"And in the middle of this city, there was a large building. And probably the biggest building there."
Komui raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Allen closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as he recalled the events in his dream.
"Piano. The sound of a piano being played came from the building. I went in search of the piano and its player.
"And I found him after a while. A peculiar man, dressed profoundly in a tuxedo of a style I've never seen before."
He leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"He told me that I must see 'the old man'."
Lenalee considered this.
What old man?
"He said that the 'old man' would explain. That he would teach me."
Komui sipped his coffee.
Looking up at Allen, he asked, "And have you any idea who this 'old man' is?"
The boy turned, shook his head.
"Hmm."
Then, there was silence.
-
"What the hell did we get called back here again for? You're wasting my precious practice time!"
Kanda had the usual scowl on his face, a look of sheer irritation, as he set his violin case down.
"Oh, come on Yuu! Lighten up!"
Lavi steadied his own instrument carefully with trained hands, leaning it on his left thigh, left hand still clutching the neck.
"How many times have I told you not to call me that, you imbecilic asshole of a rabbit?!"
Lenalee sighed, and Allen sweat-dropped.
Komui sipped his coffee.
"Well…"
Komui lowered his mug, cupping his chin thoughtfully.
"Allen-kun here had a dream."
This the two eighteen-year-olds had not expected.
At all.
Even Lavi couldn't hide his disbelief.
His jaw dropped open in surprise.
"What did you say?"
The samurai's voice was low, dangerous, his eyes overshadowed.
Allen had to stop himself from cringing away from the murderous glare.
"I said Allen-kun here had a dream," Komui reiterated, using the suffix Lenalee had given the white-haired boy.
Kanda was fuming now, silently, but definitely fuming.
His hand trembled, hovering lightly over the hilt of his katana.
"So let me get this straight."
He looked Komui straight in the eyes.
"You called us over because this stupid bean sprout had a dream?"
Komui nodded happily, not sensing the tense atmosphere in the room.
And then Kanda snapped.
"YOU'RE WASTING MY PRECIOUS PRACTICE TIME, DAMMIT!" he bellowed, and Lavi could almost imagine the steam rising from his ears.
"Well, see…"
Komui's eyes flashed.
He was being rather patient.
(With not starting to act like the most immature adult on the face of the earth.)
"This dream he had, in my opinion, has something to do with the akuma situation."
Allen looked up at the twenty-nine year-old in surprise.
"But there was no mention of the akuma in the dream," he pointed out.
"No," Komui began, "there wasn't."
Lenalee instantly knew what would happen next.
"But I have a hunch."
Lenalee smacked her forehead with her palm.
Allen could do nothing but blink in speechless astonishment.
But Lavi, he was busy trying to contain his amusement. Because Kanda Yu's face…
"You have a hunch?"
…was just too funny.
The samurai was trembling with rage.
But he didn't snap.
Thankfully.
Or not.
Mugen was unsheathed in a flash, the tip pointing distinctly at Komui's neck.
"Yes, I do."
Komui smiled again and sipped his coffee once more in spite of the circumstances.
He utterly ignored the sharp edge of the sword that was pointed at his windpipe, and began to speak.
"See, Allen says in his dream…"
He proceeded to elucidate the boy's dream, ignoring the glares he received from Kanda, whom had given up and sheathed Mugen.
"So now I'd like to ask you what kind of inferences you can make."
Kanda leaned back against the couch.
"It's just a stupid dream. What kind of dumb inferences can you make?"
Lavi's emerald eye flashed with amusement.
"Well, Yuu, you see, maybe Komui was trying to make a reference to music."
Lenalee perked up at this idea.
'If Lavi is referring to music, then maybe…'
Her eyes widened at the thought.
She could see where both Lavi and her brother were going.
"The piano here suggests something don't you think?"
The redhead cast his gaze on the ceiling, cupping his chin thoughtfully.
"Think about it. It's probably with reference to music."
But Kanda was still in his raging denial, irritated.
"Baka usagi. That doesn't prove anything. Like I said, it's a dream."
"Aha, that is where you are wrong Yuu. Let me explain."
Kanda twitched, annoyed, as Lavi carelessly used his first name.
"Allen-chan, how many old men do you know?"
The white-haired boy blinked.
How many old men did he know?
"Uh… Age range?"
Lavi's emerald eye twinkled in amusement.
"Any person you might consider elderly."
Allen raised an eyebrow questioningly, but said nothing.
"Hm."
He thought for a moment.
"One, I think."
Suddenly his eyes widened in realisation.
"OH!"
The Bookman apprentice smiled.
"Understand now?"
"You mean…"
"Yep. I think the mysterious person from your dream was trying to tell you to meet whoever this old man you know is."
Komui nodded in approval.
"Good analysis, Lavi, as expected of you, a Bookman apprentice."
The boy smiled faintly at the compliment as Komui's eyes cast a fleeting look at him from the corner of his eyes.
"But there is something you missed out."
The eighteen-year-old smirked.
"I always leave the best parts for you, Komui-san. You know that."
The bespectacled man proceeded then to question Allen as Lavi had.
"Allen-kun, who is this old man you know?"
He did not hesitate to answer, and by this time, even Kanda had become engrossed in the whole transgression of the conversation.
"That would be Mr Tikano down at the music shop 'The Devil's Symphony'."
Again, Komui nodded, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
"Lenalee, Allen. Would you kindly fetch your instruments?"
Allen rubbed the nape of his neck.
"Both?"
Komui nodded, smiling.
"Kanda-kun, I'd like to see your violin as well."
Said eighteen-year-old "Che"-ed at the suffix Komui had given him, slightly irritated.
Allen and Lenalee returned with their respective instruments.
They sat around the coffee table.
"Alright. Let's first look at Kanda-kun's violin. Kanda-kun, if you would please read the label inside your violin?"
The samurai raised an eyebrow but went with Komui's request nonetheless.
He swiftly unbuckled the violin from the case, and slid his fingers in between the openings, gently lifting out the delicate instrument. He set it down on his lap gingerly.
It was the darkest ebony Allen had ever seen.
Had he not seen it up close, he would have mistaken it to be a black coloured violin.
What's more, the strings were undoubtedly pure gold.
It was probably one of the most mystical things Lenalee had ever seen in her lifetime; a violin that looked as though it had been crafted by the angels and God's hands themselves.
And the sound was so heartbreakingly striking, beautiful. Like nothing else she had ever heard before.
It sang so painfully, as though poisoned by the devil.
But the beauty did not show only in the violin and its voice.
Lenalee had seen Kanda play many times before, sometimes having performed along with him on her cello.
The magnificent, magical way his hands wove the music was almost too perfect; everything was in perfect position, right elbow stilled, his wrist easily manoeuvring the bow over the strings.
It was the only time the samurai's face relaxed into the tranquil melodies.
The sixteen-year-old had seen this instrument one too many times, but her mind had not been able to process its brilliance and perfect structure. She didn't think she would in the coming future either.
But she hadn't seen Allen's violin.
The white-haired boy gaped in awe as Kanda peered through the sound holes, not even straining his eyes to read the label inside.
(A/N: Okay, bad time for an Author's note, but I need to tell you guys: The labels inside their instruments are actually in Latin(or Italian, I don't know). They can read them though. I don't know how. They just can. xD)
"Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1706. And some other weird writing in Latin/Italian I can't read."
The twenty-nine year-old nodded and then asked yet another question.
"Where did you get your violin?"
Kanda stared at him incredulously.
"It was handed down from the earlier generations of my family, supposedly first bought from a famous violin maker of the North-east areas. Somewhere in Europe. That was a hundred years ago or so," he answered, albeit monotonously.
"It's a genuine Stradivarius violin, isn't it? Not a copy?"
Kanda stared at him as though he were stupid.
"Considering the label, obviously it's a genuine Strad," he stated, emphasising on the word 'obviously', "And since you were the one who certified it, you should know I've had it checked and certified as genuine."
Komui remained ignorant towards the samurai's sarcasm.
"Alright. Let's look at my precious Lenalee's viola next."
He turned to face his sister.
"So, what does the label say in your instrument?"
Lenalee peered into the body of her viola through the sound holes.
Lenalee's viola was a beautiful dark colour, just like Kanda's violin; a lovely ebony woodwork with golden strings.
It had a beautiful sound that stood in medium contrast to Kanda's violin; a slightly lower, mellower sound that sent waves of peaceful tranquillity through the air, sounding like a slightly lower-key version of a choir of angels.
"Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1718. And, like Kanda's, there's some weird Latin/Italian I can't read."
Komui smiled proudly.
"Never mind those weird writings; it's obviously a genuine Stradivarius instrument. Origin?"
Lenalee sighed at her brother's childish demeanour.
"Our mother and father left this behind for me. They said that their ancestors bought it from an Italian string instrument maker in Cremona, Italy."
Allen caught Lenalee cringing from the corner of his eyes.
Komui, however, did not falter at the mention of their parents.
"And Lavi, what does your cello label say?"
The upper part of Lavi's cello was a sweet honey maple colour that made one think of summer warmth in the sunshine. It gave off a warm fiery feeling.
The corpus of the cello was much wider and bigger than that of a violin or viola, an orange colour aflame on the wood, spreading out wider from the middle.
Practically glowing, it was a sight to behold.
Ironically, Lenalee was convinced that she had never heard a more bereaved sound.
"Same as theirs. Just a different date. Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1717. Complete with weird writin'."
"Again, a genuine Stradivarius instrument. Origin?"
Just then Kanda decided to speak up, twitching.
"Che, Komui. You biased bastard," he muttered, irritation showing clearly on his face.
The man smiled earnestly.
"Why, thank you Kanda-kun."
The samurai twitched irritably at the suffix given to his name.
Lavi sweat-dropped uneasily.
"Panda bought it from 'The Devil's Symphony' when we first arrived in this town."
Allen was slightly awed.
They all owned a genuine Antonio Stradivari historically famous instrument each.
Finally, the twenty-nine year-old turned to Allen, a more serious look in his eyes.
"And yours Allen?"
Said fifteen year-old bit his lip.
His master had told him not to show the white violin to people.
"W-Which one?"
"Both, please. Starting with the one you borrowed from Mr Tikano's shop."
Allen looked over the russet coloured violin cautiously before peeking into the sound holes, spotting the same Latin writings all over the label.
It said the same thing as all the others.
"Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1720," he recited, perfect intonation in his words.
Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes.
"It also says Chevalier. What does that mean, Komui-san?"
Komui waved it off.
"I'll explain later."
Silence ensued.
Then Lavi chose to break the silence.
"Whoa. 289 years-old. That's the youngest of all the instruments here," the redhead commented enthusiastically, appalled.
Supposedly.
Komui's eyes shifted between the occupants of the room.
"Yes, it is, isn't it?"
He looked at the white-haired boy over the rim of his glasses.
"You don't happen to know its origins do you?"
"Well…" the boy began, "According to Mr Tikano, it was something his ancestors or great grandfathers made."
He tapped a finger against his chin.
"But that would mean that Mr Tikano is a relative of the Stradivaris."
The redhead nodded.
"A helluva distant relative."
"Alright. What about the other violin?"
Allen scratched the back of his head.
"Master Cross told me not to show anyone…"
He looked up at Komui, looking him in the eye intensely.
"Then again, you've already seen it haven't you?"
Lenalee's eyes widened at the fifteen year-old's words, slightly surprised he would bring it up.
Lavi sensed the sudden tense atmosphere, and sat up from his slouch.
Something was going on, but he couldn't tell just what it was.
Whatever it was though, he figured he would know eventually.
"We'll talk about it later," Komui replied simply, waving it off easily a second time.
Allen nodded, and plastered a smile on his face.
But Lenalee could tell he was nervous.
Unbuckling his black violin case this time, he revealed a carefully sustained violin, covered by soft satin cloth.
-
Red eyes flickered open in the darkness, staring at nothing in particular.
The old man sat up, his grey hair turning the darkest shade of black.
And suddenly, he wasn't old anymore.
His hands grew slender, and the lines on his weathered face dissolved, leaving a perfectly young face.
He smirked.
"They've finally begun. Now all I have to do is wait for them to come here…"
-
They marvelled at it, and for a long time, no one uttered a word.
Solid white, perfectly polished and sustained.
It was similar to Kanda's, with only a slight difference in the corpus shape, barely noticeable.
Perfect craftsmanship, spotless, and perfectly tuned. The only thing left out was the gold strings. Allen's were catgut, a special kind of catgut.
But they were pretty sure the sound it would produce would be more than godly.
And Lenalee had not even heard what it sounded like before.
She would be impressed, surprised and most certainly awed.
Allen's talent was amplified through this pure marble white violin.
"Alright…"
Komui regained his self-possession, pushing the rimless glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
"W-What does it say on the label?"
It took Allen a minute to answer.
He was a little… overwhelmed by the response his friends had come up with when he had revealed the violin to them.
"It says: Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1714."
"Anything else?"
Allen squinted, spotting a small scrawl of Latin words at the bottom of the label.
"I… can't read it, but there's a small bunch of words at the bottom in old Latin."
Komui nodded in acknowledgement.
"Origin?"
Allen hung his head: I don't want to talk about it.
Komui received the gesture rather awkwardly.
He scratched his cheek nervously.
"O-Okay,then."
Komui cleared his throat.
"So… seeing as all of you can't read the Latin inscriptions at the bottom of the labels, the only inference we can make about your instruments is that they are all Stradivarius instruments, made during Antonio Stradivari's 'Golden Age'."
Again, he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
"Tomorrow, I want all of you to meet at the café in adjacent to the Devil's Symphony at 9am. We will have breakfast- my treat – and then head over to Mr Tikano's shop. Clear?"
All four teenagers nodded.
"Dismissed."
Kanda and Lavi made their way to the door.
Allen was heading off in the direction of his room when Lenalee tapped his shoulder.
"Allen-kun, could you hold on a sec?"
She turned to her brother.
"Nii-san, when dinner's ready, I'll ring Reever-san to inform you that it's ready, and that he can join us for dinner."
The older man said nothing, nodding his head with a toothy smile; he was yawning at the same time.
Lenalee smiled, then turned to Allen.
"Allen-kun, could you help me with dinner?"
The white-haired boy smiled.
"Sure."
-
"Mmn… Smells good."
The Australian man put a spoonful of the yellowish substance into his mouth.
"Whoa, this is good."
Allen kept silent.
"Yes, Allen-kun made it."
He flushed slightly at the compliment.
It had been exactly what he had hoped Lenalee wouldn't say.
"It's really good," Komui agreed, eyes widening as the flavour exploded in his mouth.
"Th-Thanks."
"Where did you learn to cook like this, Allen?"
Said boy scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
"I don't know… I guess I picked it up somewhere during my training. But really," he put his hands up in front of his face, waving them crazily, "I wasn't the one who did the real cooking! Lenalee did the better part of it!"
The ebony-haired girl smacked him sharply in the back of the head.
"Don't deny it Allen-kun. You deserve the credit," she retorted in a matter-of-fact voice.
The 'unchangeable Lenalee' tone.
Allen sighed, rubbing his now bruised head.
"You didn't have to hit me…"
Komui shovelled another spoonful of homemade mashed potatoes into his mouth ferociously, looking rather unhappy at the affectionate gesture his sister had just carried out.
-
The next morning, Komui had been 'too sick' to get out of bed.
He had been half asleep, and Lenalee had insisted they leave him behind; she didn't want him wrecking the whole apartment in a rage thinking she was going to get married.
Allen sipped at his soup silently, polite.
He had had a lot of things on his mind since last night.
The dream of the strange figure in a tuxedo he'd never seen had come back again that night, as though insisting he saw old man Tikano.
He rubbed his temples wearily.
He still had to explain the violin's origins to Lenalee.
Flashback-
"Allen-kun," Lenalee murmured.
Said boy looked up from the pot he was mixing the mashed potato in.
"Hm?"
"Do you mind me asking a question?"
"Not at all. Shoot."
He flashed a brilliant smile.
"Uhm…"
The girl seemed embarrassed that he trusted her so easily.
"Tomorrow, at breakfast, I need to talk to you about a couple of things. Before anyone comes… I need to clear the air before I suffocate…"
She threw him a sideways glance.
Her amethyst eyes watched him, and he squirmed uncomfortably under the pressure of her stare.
"Do you mind?"
Allen blinked, trying to hide his discomfort.
"And you can't tell me now because…?"
He was slightly startled as she leaned closer to him, her breath tickling his ear.
"Nii-san might hear us. And it's quite important, so…"
Again, the boy blinked.
"O-Okay…"
Something important Lenalee wanted to talk to him about.
In private.
Something she didn't want her brother to hear.
Allen shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the troubling thoughts.
The moment had come, so no point in dwelling on it so much.
The out of the corner of his eye, he noted the two same young ladies from the other day smiling at him. He turned to them and returned the gesture, making them flush scarlet, turning away.
Lenalee returned from the washroom and the boy's grey eyes wandered away from her face.
"So..." she began, "Can we talk now?"
The white-haired boy shifted in his seat.
"Uhm, maybe we should order something first. Like a latte or something? This is going to be a long talk right?"
He glanced at his watch.
"That's why we even came here two hours early, isn't it?"
Lenalee flushed.
"O-Of course…"
Allen hid his nervousness.
"I'll go order. Needa return this soup too anyway."
He tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, picking up the now empty soup bowl gingerly.
"What would you like?"
"Uhm," she pulled out her wallet, fishing out a five dollar bill, "a mocha latte, if you don't mind."
She pushed the bill towards him, but he pushed it back.
"I'll pay for it."
And he left before she could protest.
-
Allen sighed as he made his way to the counter.
Things had gotten edgy and he hadn't been able to help changing the subject.
Sighing once more, he moved to the counter.
Mr Bentley welcomed him graciously.
"Well, if it isn't Allen!"
"Hey Mr Bentley."
He smiled.
"So, what can I do for the one who brought all them hordes of customers to my shop?"
The fifteen-year-old grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
"I didn't bring all of them here! Your good coffee did!"
The stout man laughed heartily.
"Right… Anywho, what can I get for ya?"
"Two mocha lattes if you please," he answered, passing the older man a ten dollar bill.
Allen's mind wandered, and his eyes grew distant.
He feared what Lenalee would ask him.
Mr Bentley sensed his unease.
"Oh yeah, speakin' of which," he cut in, slicing the silence in half.
"Hm?" the boy acknowledged, sounding distant.
"Your, uh, job?"
The white-haired boy's head snapped up.
"OH YEAH. I still have one more day to pay off!"
Mr Bentley let out a hearty laugh, puzzling Allen.
"No, no, kid. I was gonna tell you, it's been completely paid back!"
The boy blinked.
"What did you say?"
"I said, it's all been PAID BACK. You're free kid."
But the white-haired boy didn't seem to buy it.
His storm grey eyes flashed, unconvinced.
"It's been… paid back?"
His voice shook.
"YES, it has."
Allen rested his chin on the high counter, the glass over the mahogany surface cool and calming.
"Ahh… I'm so happy…"
His face was glowing with euphoria.
Chuckling, Mr Bentley set the two mugs of steaming mocha latte on a tray.
"There ya go."
He noticed the light in Allen's eyes dim at the sight of the two lattes, and disappearing into the distant reverie once more.
"Somethin' wrong kid?"
The boy's eyes shifted back to look at the plump man.
"Not at all."
He turned and left.
But the humble shopkeeper sensed the lie in his voice; the tray shook slightly in his trembling hands.
A/N: Here it is as promised: a couple of days later. Sadly, THAT WAS SO BORING. Sorry for its retarded lack in action. (: Thanks again to all who reviewed~! Also, I realise I made a hugeeee mistake at the start of the previous chapter. It was something involving "Lenalee playing the cello". sorry about that. It's because I changed my mind after writing all the chapters there are in my computer at current, so. sorry.