Kanda surveyed the world map (yellowing, especially from the tea Allen had spilled all over it one lunch hour), his eyes scanning for possible stops – every one of them more than hundreds of miles – maybe even a thousand – away from the Black Order. But if the Black Order really wanted him back that badly, there was really nowhere he could run. Kanda entertained the thought of going to America. The journey would take weeks, not to mention expensive, but he did have some money – more than enough to last him a lifetime actually, something that had been with him before life at the Black Order. He wondered what kind of brief life he had been living then.

As an exorcist, Kanda never really took the time to learn about the places that he was sent to, and he wasn't exactly interested in knowing either. Still, he knew he was someplace close to the sea, but whether or not he was still in England, he hadn't checked. He shrugged. He'll know when he steps into a crowd of yapping fools.

But the second he stepped off that train and into the coastal town, Kanda could almost distinguish nothing. It was a jumble of Spanish, Chinese, English, French, and almost everything else in between. Some of the accents were terrible as people in the crowd attempted to speak to one another. He'd thought he'd get a headache from trying to figure out what the burly man had been trying say by directing him to where the ports were, but apparently hanging around a person who slurred his words nearly all the time (namely Lavi) made him almost immune to the atrocity of language butchering.

After spending about three seconds to decipher the slurred words, Kanda headed toward the ports. The smell of the sea grew stronger, the stench of salt in the air assaulting his nose. Kanda didn't really mind it all that much, but he did dislike getting sand in his shoes. It would be all that more uncomfortable if any of it managed to get into his boots.

There was no snow here, and the sea was unchangeably moving in gentle waves as Kanda walked out, glancing at the monstrous ships, carved out of thick, polished wood. "Do any of these go out to America?"

A healthy-looking sailor stopped heaving a bundle of things onto his broad, thick shoulder to think. "Uh… yeah, I think that one does – the El Cazador." El Cazador appeared to be sturdy enough, and the tall mast made it seem to stand tall and proud, but Kanda was hardly one to be admiring ships.

000

Allen couldn't believe he was so stupid that he hadn't actually thought of it earlier. He was a general. Therefore, he had the right to go on long, mindlessly wandering trips like a certain-general/master-of-his-whose-name-will-not-be-mentioned. It didn't really matter that said mindlessly wandering trip is going to be devoted to Kanda. Besides, no one was stop him even if they didn't like Kanda and wanted to object. It was, to him, a brilliant idea.

But somehow, Linali and Lavi didn't think so. "Moyashi-chan," Lavi never did drop that nickname, aggravating when anybody other than Kanda said it, "Let's take a second to actually think here. If Kanda's gone, and he's definitely gone, then he's got to be miles away, maybe in some other country by now."

"That's what we have research for," Allen quipped easily, donning his exorcist uniform with the special gold trimmings.

"Research can only take you so far."

"Wow Lavi, I didn't know you were actually capable of saying things that went against your training." Lavi winced at the mention of his work. Linali squeezed the redhead's hand gently.

"What Lavi means Allen, is that you can't just rely on the little bits and pieces you get to find someone." She gestured, spreading her thin arms. "This is the whole world! He can be anywhere. He's not even a little dot here, so how do you expect to find him, especially when he's going to up and move? I don't think the posters and stuff we've been putting up help much, either."

"That's why," Allen said, "if you want something done, you have to take matters into your own hands." Linali rolled her dark eyes in exasperation.

"Fine, don't say we didn't warn you when you come back five years later with nothing to show for your hard work."

"Linali, if you wanted to go, why don't you just tell him? He's not going to get what you mean. Pfft. Girls," Lavi said. Linali glared at him mildly, crossing her arms in disapproval before turning to look at Allen expectantly. The white-haired boy shrugged.

"I never said you couldn't come."

000

Kanda never got seasick, but he thought he might be a little green from watching the other passengers on the ship dumping the contents of their stomachs into the greenish-blue water. Other than that, he felt comfortable, with the cool winds blowing against him and the white moon shining above gently. At the sight of another man rushing to the ledge and puking his guts out though, Kanda decided it was time to retreat back to his cabin.

It was an average-sized room, and the worst thing about it was that he had three other roommates. Thankfully, they knew when to keep quiet. He flopped onto the bottom bunk, his dark hair splaying over the white linen sheets. There was not too much to do around the ship, and he didn't intend to be cabin boy.

One of his roommates entered. The boy ignored Kanda, heading onto the bunk above him. A moment later, he could hear the other's head hitting against the pillow and some soft snores. Kanda was an extremely light sleeper, something he blamed also on the Dark Order missions. He'll have to ask for some ear plugs later.

The sky was darkening, and off some feet somewhere he could hear the bell ringing – signifying that it was around an hour – 10:00.

Kanda sat up, frustrated. He couldn't sleep. He shook his head in exasperation, deciding to go out once more.

People were dancing, sailors and passengers alike of many ethnicities. Young men dragged him towards him, pushing a tall mug of foaming liquid. Women and men laughed, urging, pushing him to drink. Kanda sniffed it cautiously. He narrowed his eyes as he took a small gulp. He frowned at the bitter taste, but the good thing was that it was warm going down.

What am I doing? He thought as he downed the mug, swiping another. This was so unlike him. Stupid party, happy atmosphere.