Title: comfort in deceit
Rating: G
Summary: "Everything will be alright." Even if it is not true, you still say it.
The quote at the end is by Fiona Apple.
It will be alright.
It was the universal mantra to make things better, especially in her line of work. Countless times, she had heard it recited.
From the days of her insanity she had heard it spill from Komui's mouth like a soothing river, and they only increased as she finally accepted her duty.
It didn't matter if it was a lie.
Allen used it, Lavi used it, even Kanda used it.
And now she used it herself, trusting its omniscient power.
Such a small phrase seemed to hold tremendous power, keeping them safe from Akumas, then Noahs, and then the Earl.
But it could not save them from themselves.
As always, whenever she was in a state of misery, she would find herself seeking Kanda.
She was the moth drawn to the dangerous flame.
Memories overlapped as she laid her hand on the cold metal of his door, remembering.
She remembered themselves as children, remembered how even back then, Kanda was still aloof and easily angered, a loner who clung to the shadows until he became one of them.
She remembered how they went from the loosest of acquaintances to comrades, dear friends, and eventually, something much, much more.
She remembered the way his voice had gradually lost its harshness and the lips quirked up into a smile, honors reserved only for her.
She remembered the physical comfort he was always willing to give her, the way he held her locked in his arms after a meeting with Rouvelier, the whispered promises trailing down her neck claiming her as his.
Smiling softly, she shook herself back to the present where she leaned on the wall next to Kanda's door, deliberating.
Perhaps she was longing for the past because of what lay in the future.
Things were far more serious now than ever. The Earl, the Noah, the mysterious cloaked figures and the arrival of the Third Exorcists.
The Third Exorcists were bad enough on their own, but since their arrival, she had begun to notice a change in Kanda, the way his eyes flickered and darkened and how he held himself rigidly, refusing to relax until she came into contact with him. What worried her was that he didn't even seem to realize it.
He had always held a mysterious aura cloaked protectively around him, and over time, she had come to know more about Kanda than anyone else in the Order.
…But that day made her realize that there were perhaps even more secrets to the man than she had thought.
That there were still secrets he kept from her.
To be honest, those Exorcists bothered her, too. She was far from ignorant about what the Order really did, and the hidden suspicion roiling in her gut was proof.
Sighing, she pushed away from the wall, pivoted, and opened his door in one smooth motion. He never minded whenever she barged in without announcing herself first.
As expected, he merely looked up, unconcerned, and then went right back to staring morosely at the far wall.
A habit she was all too familiar with now.
She sat down next to him on the bed silently as her arms wound themselves around his waist. He leaned into her, warm hands folded over hers.
Words were not needed here; they both realized what was on each other's mind, because that was the strength of their bond.
Lenalee was vaguely aware and pleased that he seemed to be less moody, taking his gaze from the slate wall to the top of her head instead. She closed her eyes and sighed as she felt lips gently touch her temple.
He waited until she had settled herself closer and then spoke, calmly and gravely as was his nature.
"Things are going to start moving rapidly now. And they will be serious." Very serious.
As she looked up she was aware that, even now, the depths of his eyes swam with forbidden secrets. Swallowing, she found herself whispering.
"But it will be alright?"
Kanda closed his eyes, aware of her true meaning.
"I am not sure."
Perhaps he would be. Perhaps not.
He could feel a disturbing sense of déjà vu as his past merged with the present. He had a feeling the future was going to be hard for both of them, but probably harder for her. She had never taken these things well, especially when he was involved.
Falling back on their old broken mantra of dashed hope and expectation, he replied, "Everything will be alright in the end."
Even as he said that, they both felt the daunting mantel of truth, dark and unforgiving, settle around them like a security blanket gone horribly wrong.
Hands tightened around her waist and she clung to him in response, tears shimmering beneath her eyelids. The sound of his heartbeat was a loud echo in her ears as she clung onto that tattered false hope.
Together, they would wait for their future.
Everything will be alright.
Because even if it wasn't, it would no longer matter for them.
.
.
Though dreams can be deceiving, like faces are to hearts, they serve for sweet relieving, when fantasy and reality lie too far apart.