It Just Had To Be Him

Chapter Three: Komui

It isn't that he never expected her to grow up, or even that he hadn't expected her to grow up so fast; he always knew that she would. It's frustrating— he often can't place quite what it is at all. But then she walks into the room and he knows it all the same, even if the words won't come.

Maybe a small part of it is that she has grown up so fast.

From a child, into a warrior, into a beautiful young woman that makes him wonder if there is anything in the world worth trusting her to. And once he logically comes to the conclusion that there isn't, he can't help but notice how many people she has already trusted herself to. Maybe it isn't his job to decide that, anymore.

But he flails at the idea, regardless. Flails at those she trusts so much, to be more precise, and prays that she will at least allow him that much concern.

But it has gotten beyond that. With Allen… it is far different, than the others. Maybe it always has been. It occasionally makes him less sorry about the near-house arrest. He makes sure to send up a meal from Jerry to make up for the uncharitable thought, though part of him thinks that Allen wouldn't dispute it.

It has gotten to the point where if she doesn't come in with coffee during lunch, he knows that she must have run into him. And Komui is not really sure that he's okay with that. But then she'll come running in twenty minutes or half an hour later, apologizing and saying that she was distracted, and she'll look so happy that he knows, for the moment at least, that he has to be okay with it. Anything that can still make her smile that way has to be okay.

Komui remembers when it used to be her clinging to him. Others laugh disbelievingly when one of them mentions it, but he remembers all too clearly what it was like to pick up her tiny body and hold her in his arms. She was frail, always shaking, so he let her knot tiny fists in his hair and held her closer, pressing his ear to her chest and listening to her heart beat until she fell asleep. He sometimes caught himself thinking of her as a daughter more than a sister. Quite the fantastic thought, now that she is all but a woman; not small, not frail, and stronger than he'll ever be. A fighter. He can see why people would doubt the idea that it could be any other way.

But the quiet way she smiles whenever it's brought up makes him think, perhaps wishfully, that she remembers too.

He accepts that she is grown. He even accepts that, for all his over the top threats, he would have to stop if she asked him to. Or at least be more discrete about it. He is still her brother, after all— some duties transcend age. But the prospect of an actual relationship with Allen raises as many flags to Komui the brother as it does to Komui the Supervisor. There is a very good reason for the unofficial fraternization policy among Exorcists, and that is only compounded by the existence of the 14th. Most things come back to that, really. Enough so that sometimes, he isn't sure if the Noah is truly the only unsolvable problem, or if he has simply latched onto it as such. Perhaps there would be some other unsolvable problem for him to find, if the Musician was out of the picture.

Komui wants to protect Allen, desperately, as he wants to protect all of those beneath him— but it has always been different, with Allen. There is only so long that he can have the same argument with Central and expect for action to remain delayed. Things are moving, far beyond his control for all the supposed weight that his position has. And sometimes it comes down to protecting Allen, or protecting everyone else. That is not something that he can do. He made a promise, upon taking this position, to protect all of them. It started for Lenalee, but branched out so far beyond that. She is still there at the center, and always will be. But there are other things to protect as well.

And if he hurts Lenalee… if there is even the likelihood of him hurting Lenalee, then how can Komui fight for that?

He thinks that Allen understands that; he would have acted sooner, otherwise. Or at least, he used to understand. Because simply from overheard whispers that make him cringe, it is apparent that things are changing. Or maybe things have been changing, slowly, and it is only now painfully obvious to the casual observer. Komui is not at all sure that it's alright to let whatever it is continue either way.

As if there weren't enough things in the world to hurt her already. Sometimes it seems as if the earth was tailor-made to cause her pain.

And he can hardly ever prevent it, these days.

From the bodies to the lack of bodies, curfews to visiting hours. He can't pick her up anymore. Hugs only seem to go so far, and more often than not… it is no longer his arms that she runs to. When another name is rattled off over coffins to be burned, hitting closer to home every time, and he leads her away with a firm arm around her shoulder— she lets him, but he knows that it isn't him she wants to be with. Isn't him that she wants to comfort her. For whatever reason, she wants mismatched arms to hold her.

He wonders how any just god could bear to cause her so much pain, and if it is inevitable that she will become inconsolable. Perhaps that is simply the fate of an Exorcist. It is not something that he ever wanted for her, but it is so much a part of her now that he wonders if the two can be separated.

Komui grins cheerfully as she hands him his cup of coffee, showering her with dramatic praise that only makes her laugh for a moment before turning away. He drops his gaze, and his smile with it. But, even a moment of laughter is something. The coffee remains untended to as he picks his pen back up, and it is with some dull surprise that he realizes he is actually filling out the paperwork before him. Huh. Well, there's a first time for everything.

"Brother."

Komui glances up sharply, surprised to see that Lenalee never left the room. She is standing with her back to him (that hurts a little, but he supposes it's a sight he'll have to get used to), hands gripped around the coffee tray as if she is on her way out the door. But she isn't moving. Komui waits, as patiently as he can. When she finally continues, her voice is so low that he would not have heard it against anything by the dead silence of his office.

"Are you disappointed in me?"

The tray is just barely shaking in her hands, and the wave of nostalgia that hits him almost feels like a physical blow. He smiles softly, putting the pen down in favor of his favorite coffee mug. That's not right, Lenalee— you're not supposed to shake anymore. He takes a long sip before answering.

"Of course not."

AN: This is all that I really had planned for this story. If there's someone else that you really want to see, feel free to drop a request in a review. If not, thanks for reading.