Konnichiwa! Thanks for reviewing! Not to sound creepy, but I kind of printed out all of the reviews and stuck them on my wall in front of my computer for motivation! So you all mean a lot to me! I'm giving myself credit also because look how frequently I update this, and for being a first-timer, I must say it's pretty darn impressive! Please enjoy this next chapter, I hope I did it okay…

Disclaimer: Katsura Hoshino owns -man! I only write off of the idea for my own selfish purposes!

Warmth.

Allen Walker was feeling this sensation in two different ways; one, physical, two, emotional.

The sun's beautiful, yet rare rays shone serenely over Allen's figure through the window, casting away any coldness he still held from the previous days of constant rain.

His heart was also content to the point of bursting due to the sudden absence of his abusive 'care taker.'

The white haired boy wore his first honest, careless smile in a long time. His mask wasn't covering up his joy today.

Allen was currently in his first class of his second day at this new, overwhelming school; Biology.

The teen absently picked at a loose thread that was coming undone on his long sleeve shirt as his mind distractedly wandered back to just a few moments ago, when he first arrived to his new classroom.

He opened the door without any trepidation remaining, forgetting already, the unsavory experiences that be struck him in previous classes.

The teacher seemed to be in the middle of a statement, when Allen entered the clean-smelling room, because everything suddenly turned uncomfortably silent.

'Ah, class, here we have a fine example of a genetic mutation.' The teacher informed the gawking class matter of factly, with an arm stretched out, gesturing toward the boy in the doorway, with the look of a predator that just spotted his prey.

Allen instinctively clutched his deformed left arm closer to his chest, before he realized that it was safely hidden beneath the bandages, long sleeve, and glove. 'Never can be too safe...' The boy had mumbled earlier to himself.

The teacher, after a sweep of his eyes over Allen, had decided that introductions weren't important. 'Alright, I believe you're all familiar with this boy. Now, if you will, Allen, take any seat located near the back.'

The fun journey to the distant past ended when he realized that the high schoolers were all staring at him and giggling.

The targeted boy had averted his gaze from the window he had apparently been staring at, and allowed his eyesight to fall over the teacher's amused face.

"Walker, does that white hair of yours affect your thinking capabilities?" The teacher asked, feigning interest.

The accused boy now sported a light pink shade of blush over his cheeks. "I-I, um…" He struggled to find words when everyone had their attention focused on him. "Um, sorry…"

The teacher gave an overly dramatic sigh and continued on with his lesson. Allen again tried to keep up, partially knowing about the information due to his frequent and multiple injuries.

After Biology, the teen made his way towards his next class. He was rather looking forward to it since it wasn't a major class and would most likely not have much homework, if any. His next class was art.

He stepped once again into another unfamiliar room and stared in awe at all of the colors and paintings that were taped, glued, pinned, and plastered to every wall and surface.

Not seeing the teacher anywhere in sight, Allen walked inside.

There were teens everywhere. This class seemed to have a do-whatever-you-want-as-long-as-it-kind-of-relates-to-art, sort of flow. Students were giggling, and animatedly talking about every new couple and break up, some were adding paintings to the already-covered walls, and some were just sitting in a corner with a sketchbook.

That's when Allen saw a familiar pony-tailed girl, sitting on a stool with an easel.

"Miss Lenalee!" The teen said, hurriedly making his way towards the closest person he had to a friend.

"Oh, hi Allen! You're in my art class?"

"Apparently. Where is our teacher?" The boy asked, taking notice of her painting. It was a beautiful picture of a rose placed in a…coffee mug? Aside from the strange container, everything in the piece of artwork was fantastically drawn.

"Mr. Teidoll? He went to go get more paint…Not quite sure why, since we have tons already here…" Lenalee responded, seeing now that Allen was ogling her picture.

With a shy blush on her cheeks, she asked "Do you like it? It's for my brother, Komui!"

The scar-faced boy looked at Lenalee with amazement. "Wow, you sure do a lot for him, Miss Lenalee; it's beautiful."

The blush on her face became a deeper red in reaction to his short comment. As the girl looked at Allen in the face for the first time, straight on since he arrived in the class, she suddenly sat quiet, as if contemplating about something.

"Miss?" Allen questioned her, worry starting to set in his eyes. "It's nothing… What are you going to work on?" She suddenly switched into a happier tone, avoiding eye contact with him again.

'She's acting strange. Maybe she realized that I'm too different from everyone else and decided to stop talking with me…? No, Lenalee wouldn't do that. Would she?'

Once the art teacher came back to the classroom, time went by quickly. Allen had soon found out that Mr. Teidoll, the art teacher, was a very tender hearted old man, who, realizing that Allen had it rough, skipped the introductions.

The bell once again rang and class was out, with every student running in every which way.

"Um, Allen."

Said boy, looked up from his sketchbook that he was doodling in, to see Lenalee, nervously poking his shoulder.

"Yes, Miss Lenalee?" He replied, being ever the gentleman he was.

"C-could I talk to you… A-alone?" She now looked down at her knee-high, black boots, and began fidgeting under his curious gaze.

"Of course!" He told her, all too happy that she still wanted to talk to him, not even bothering to think why she wanted to talk to him alone in the first place.

He followed her out a couple of doors and Allen soon found that they were now in a hallway that he guessed led to the field, based off of the locker rooms that broke off at the end of the hall.

"So, what is it that you would like to talk to me about, Miss? Allen innocently asked her with a unconscious cock of the head.

She now looked at him with not quite anger, but more of a deep concern.

" Why?"

Allen didn't understand what she meant.

"Why, what?" He encouraged her to continue.

She let out a sigh and carefully studied his left eye. "Why is about two thirds of the scar or mark or whatever it is, now partially covered up with- I don't know- it looks like foundation?" She was now making a steady process closer to his face.

The accused boy took an automatic step back, dodging as the flustered girl reached up with an outstretched hand to touch his scar.

"Um, Miss Linalee, what are you talking about?" He asked, frantically raking his mind for an excuse she might believe.

"I'm talking about this," her hand made contact with the skin under his left eye, and with a gently stroke of the finger, she pulled it back a couple of inches, allowing his eyes to focus clearly on the pale powder that had gathered on her finger.

"Explain. Now." She demanded, acting out-of-character.

"So, what if I wanted to cover a few zits and pimples…" the boy knew it was a lame excuse, but his mind couldn't think up anything else.

"Really? Because I don't see any bumps or blotches, and that still wouldn't explain why it's over your scar." She was now growing impatient with the boy in front of her. Why wouldn't he talk to her? If it was really just makeup, then why did he act so defensive? Even if he was a guy, it wasn't so strange.

"It was early, maybe I accidentally spread it over it without realizing." He pathetically defended himself.

Not satisfied with his answer, the disapproving girl leaned in once again, and this time took out a tissue from her backpack (AN: Komui makes her carry tissues, a first aid kit, cell phone, and other supplies in case of emergencies. Even though he's at the same school.) and attempted to rub away the rest of the cover up.

Allen retreated, hissing in suppressed pain, as Lenalee's rubbings made contact with his bruise.

Alarmed, Lenalee dropped her tissue, gaping in surprise, at the yellow and black bruise she had uncovered from the pale boy's face.

Struggling to cover the evidence of the previous night's beating, Allen's left gloved hand, flew up to shield it from the gawking girl.

"A-Allen, what happened?" The stunned girl asked, concern seeping into her voice.

"Nothing…" The pitiful boy mumbled.

Before Allen knew what was happening, Lenalee whipped out her cell phone that was concealed in her sweater pocket, and hit the 2 button; Komui's speed dial number.

"Komui, It's Allen, there's something wrong with him. Come to the boys and girls locker rooms now!" She said with haste, closing the phone before her brother could ask questions.

After Lenalee shoved her phone back into the bag, it became quiet. Unnervingly so.

Allen kept his eyes on the concrete as he slid down the wall to a sitting positing on the ground. Whereas Lenalee, not sure what else she was able to do, also sat down on the other side of the hallway so that she was now facing the dazed teen.

In just a few minutes, Komui came running around the corner, his odd beret secured tightly to his head with a hand. "Lenalee! You worried me with that call! What was that all abou-" The panting man didn't finish whatever he was going to say, as he had spotted Allen sitting on the floor, his silver eyes desperately trying to avoid contact with the two siblings.

"Allen walker? Well what are you sitting on the floor for? Come on and tell me what's wrong!" The principal demanded with enthusiasm.

Lenalee stood up and wacked her older brother with the back of her hand and gave him a look that Allen couldn't quite understand.

"Allen, show Komui." Lenalee spoke in the sitting boy's general direction, but not exactly at him.

He hesitated but slowly lifted his hand out of its place in front bruised left quarter of his face.

Komui held in a gasp, as he flicked his glasses higher up his nose. After a moment of inspection, the principal let out a held breath.

"Lenalee, I love you to pieces- I mean I looooove you! More than coffee! More than the air that I breathe! More tha-" "Brother!" "Sorry, I got carried away… As I was saying; as much as I do love you, please excuse us, Allen and I need to have a word in my office. Privately."

Allen's head shot up to look at Komui, as he said this.

'What does he want to talk about? Oh boy, I better come up with an excuse. Maybe he'd believe that I ran into a door...No, that wouldn't explain why it's only a portion… Maybe… Ah! I don't know! Hopefully something will come to me.'

"Please, come with me, Allen." Komui told him, holding out a hand for the boy to grab.

xX-Xx-xX-Xx-xX-Xx-xX-Xx

Allen was welcomed into a small room with two couches and a desk that held papers stacked up to the ceiling, threatening to fall at the slightest movement of air.

Moving his gaze away from the towing documents, the cautious teen took a seat on the smaller couch, in hopes of being able to sit by himself.

"So," the beret sporting male began, "why don't we start by you telling me why you were 'borrowing' money from out lunchroom?" He stared inquisitively at the now still boy.

'He saw! There is no way! I checked! I can't hope to explain that one since he was there!'

After a moment of building up bravery, Allen looked at Komui with saddened eyes, his mask cracking only a bit.

"A-am I… going to be expelled…?" He slowly questioned, expecting a quick slap and a harsh 'yes.' But the older man only looked at him with pity, as if he had just seen a kitten stuck in a box as it was pouring rain.

"Not if you tell me why you did it. I also want to know about that nasty bruise you have. It definitely wasn't done by accident. Are you being bullied? As the principal of this school, I need to know who is picking on you, so that I may properly deal with them. Can you call your parents over, this concerns them too."

During the man's endless questioning, Allen had dropped his gaze and again began pulling the lose thread on his sleeve. When the thread came undone and began to loosen a minority of his sleeve cuff, he regained the eye contact with the adult.

"No." He said bluntly.

"No, what? No, you can't call your parents, no, you're not being bullies, or no, you simply won't answer." The inquiring man continued with the stream of questions.

"The first two…" Allen uncertainly replied. He had unconsciously bowed his head again, trying to not see any disapproving glances the principal might be sending him.

"Hmm, I see." Komui now held a paper and pencil that seemed to appear out of nowhere. He picked up his light blue coffee mug, and thoughtfully sipped it before placing it back down on the table. He then continued by jotting done some unknown notes.

"Allen, if you want this to work, like I do, then I need (AN: Hold crap, the computer is trying to tell me to replace that 'need' with 'needs.' WTC computer?) you to tell me everything. I know I'm just a principal to you, but I really do care, and if you're getting hurt, then I want to help you."

The young teen didn't know why, but something about the man in front of him seemed sincere.

'Maybe he actually cares. Plus, it would be nice to have some help, especially an adult.' The optimistic part of his brain chirped.

Because he had absolutely nothing left to lose, he told Komui. Everything.

"When I was still an infant in my mother's womb," he began, getting comfortable, as this would take a while, "there was an unknown growth in my skin cells. There was no reason the doctors could find to explain this, so they never told my parents, fearing their reputations would be injured if it turned out to be nothing. I was born, healthy as any other child, except for my left arm. For some reason, the cells only affected my here, I don't have a professionals opinion on the cause, but that's another story. As I was saying, my left arm…. It… It's different form the normal…"

He hesitated on this. This would be the barrier. He either jumped over, and told Komui about his arm and everything else, or…

Without any more thinking, he pulled off his left glove, revealing the dry, crimson, skin underneath.

Komui gasped with a hand over his mouth, doing his best to conceal his obvious shock. Then he did something that no one had ever done before. Something that Allen had always longed for, but never received because people were too horrified to do it; Komui held Allen's left, raw, hand, with his warm one and with an honest and warm smile, he told him "It's fine. There is nothing to worry about. Please continue."

Allen felt close to tears as this adult had just surpassed what everybody aside from one had ever done for him.

He cleared his throat and continued.

"A-as you can see, it's not… It's… ugly. My parents reaction to the surprise of my arm was…less than savory." Komui leaned in closer, totally engrossed in the teen's story.

"They, they left me." Allen admitted, as if trying to get that into his own mind.

"They left me on a street. I'm not sure where, I just know that it was winter. Anyway, I think it was a day or two, but after I was dropped there, a man named Rouvelier, found me and picked me up. Though I'm not sure why he did, because as soon as I was old enough to think and walk, he forced me into doing anything and everything to keep the orphanage running. I tried running away, but every time, every time, they found me.

I had begun to think I would have to stay there until I turned old enough to leave on my own, but that's when the unexpected happened. A man came."

"A man?" Komui questioned, interrupting the story.

"Yes. His name was Mana. He had been watching me, and without any concern for himself, he adopted me… Just like that…" A lone tear slowly rolled down Allen's cheek. Komui took note of this.

"Mana, was the only one who cared about me. He would always pretend to forget that I had a deformed arm, and would treat me like his actual biological son. But… You see, Mana was murdered." His voice cracked when he spoke this, and the adult's eyes widened.

"It was right in front of me too… I'll, I'll never forget… Um, as I was saying. I was kind of a mess for a while after that, so I'm not sure how much time passed. But, I soon found that I had been wandering, to nowhere in particular, just walking where ever. That's when Cross, my current legal guardian, found me." Allen stopped, debating whether or not to continue. He decide he should, since he was already this far.

"Master Cross," he repeated, this time with the honorific; squinting as he hated using it, especially in front of other people "he was… I actually don't know what he was thinking when he picked me up… He doesn't really like me… Maybe he took me, expecting me to clean, cook, work, and do the other responsibilities I do now. Come to think about it, that makes a lot of sense.

You see, Master, he, has this issue where anything he does, is expensive, and he drinks a lot so he can't keep a job, eventually he just stopped trying and hasn't worked for over ten years, so he can't pay for anything, it's for that reason that he most likely picked me off from the street; expecting me to pay off his debts, that is."

Komui's eyes widened as he realized, now, where this was going.

"Ever since Master Cross 'adopted' me, I've been working at least three separate jobs at a time to work off his debts, that is, until I started school here, yesterday. If this wasn't enough to please Master then, I wasn't sure of what else to do. But one day, he came home drunk again, and he had apparently wanted to buy some more boo- alcohol, seeing as I was still working off the ever rising debts, I didn't have any money to buy some. So… He… He, um…"

Allen left the sentence hanging in the air, as he drew in a shaking breath. Komui, who was still holding onto to the troubled boy's left hand, gave, what he hoped to be, an encouraging squeeze.

This did, in fact, encourage Allen, so he slowly continued. "Master Cross, he… Kind of in a way.. Beats me…" He said the last two words with his head facing the opposite direction of Komui, in hopes that it would make what he said better somehow. Or perhaps to shield himself from any disapproving look the adult held.

'This is it. He either thinks I'm disgusting and expels me, or feels pity and forces me away from cross, thus dropping me back into 'the system'. The system of ever rotating households. The system that reminds me no matter what, that I'm unwanted.'

Allen dropped his head in defeat, as Komui let his hand go. Following this, the principal stood up and walked around so that he could see Allen's face.

There were tears relentlessly pouring out of the broken boy's steely eyes.

"My poor, poor boy…" Komui breathed. "Is that why you took the money? To pay off the debts? And that bruise. It was…"

"Given to me by Cross. Last night." Allen intervened, with a rough voice, still scratchy from the silent tears.

"Please," Allen begged, "please, don't take me away." He know stared at Komui with hopeless eyes. His mask was now gone. For the first time since Mana, he was opening up to someone.

"But, you need help! Surely you can't expect me to just sit here and watch you be abused by your care taker!" He seemed appalled at the very idea.

"But I do." The white haired teen retorted, now wiping away his tears.

"If you want to help… Well… See, I don't really get to eat very much… So… Could you maybe…?"

"My dear boy, of course I'll bring you food! I'll have it waiting for you if you come to school ten minutes early, also, I'll notify the lunch man to give you whatever you want, on me, every lunch. On top of that" the man leaned forward, as if to keep it a secret from the walls, "Next time, this Cross, hurts you, call me immediately." Komui handed him a cell phone with a pink rabbit on it. "My number's in there, so you shouldn't have any problems. Just call the house or school phone, since that is my cell, and I'll come to pick you up and help fix whatever injuries you might receive." Komui leaned back up and seemed glad to be of some help.

"Thank you, Mr. Lee." Allen mumbled, still shocked.

xX-Xx-xX-Xx-xX-Xx-xX-Xx

Lenalee stepped back from the tall, brown double doors. She inhaled; the astonishment of what had happened finally setting in.

"Oh, Allen…" She whispered.

Woah! Check out how long this is! You know, sometimes I surprise myself. And look! Another cliffy! I just love to torture you guys. Oh, and before you ask, I know in the previous chapter, I mentioned that Allen "couldn't have been more wrong." And believe me, I haven't forgotten. If you'll remember, a couple thousand words back, this all started at lunch time, meaning noon, meaning the day isn't over yet. Ooohh, yes did I pull one over you guys! Thanks for the beautiful reviews! I check every four hours or so (I can't help it, you people make me so happy!) For those of you who just read, and don't review: Please review! I don't care if it's a negative comment! Just give advice, correct a spelling error, (Lord knows there are tons.) or just complain a little. Not that I want y'all to complain, I'm just saying.

Anata ga daisuki desu!