Hello everyone,

after hearing the whole truth last chapter, now Allen is trying to find a solution.

Thanks for the reviews.

To jy24: Like I already wrote, the Noahs think Allen is dead. They won't track him, but if by coincidence he is found it would probably end badly for him as long as he is alone. Now that he has Kanda by his side, they most likely wouldn't dare to take him.

Disclaimer: I may own a copy of each available volume, but never DGM itself.

After that time progresses slowly while I am watching out for any sign that he is cutting or going to that fight club again. I caught him sneaking out one night and threatened to hide the key if he ever did it again. Luckily I still have good reflexes even four and a half months pregnant, because he snapped pretty badly. His mood is not getting better either, I can see that he lacks a way to deal with all his emotional baggage and since I took his outlet from him he is lashing out instead.

I have tried to animate him to pick up a sword again, but his frustration only grew when I wouldn't let him use Mugen, but only a practice sword. He already threw that across the room twice in a failed attempt to train. Also forcing him to a dojo has proven to be useless, because he just snapped at the owner, got into a fight with one of the pupils (because he called them 'weaklings') and afterwards got thrown out.

I barely have time to concentrate on my own problems (especially being pregnant for example) while he is being stubborn. The biggest problem might also just be that he refuses to accept help. He is a jerk, far worse than three years ago. On the other hand I found two things that would calm him down. One, to go to a park, into nature and sometimes pretend to not look at him, so he can draw in peace. I tried asking him about his drawings but he reacted nearly as badly as when I talked about cutting. The second thing is surprisingly to put his hand on my abdomen. Apparently feeling my baby move soothes him somehow. I don't know why, but I'm really happy about it.

Two weeks have passed since that fateful evening and he is getting seriously irritable, so I came up with a new plan to get him sword-fighting again. He has been taking me out to the park often these days and it is good for both of us. So this time I take two of the practice swords I found in his storeroom with me. He eyes the long package I am carrying with distrust but doesn't say anything in favour of getting into nature faster.

When we arrive there he breathes in deeply first. Then he takes a small basket with snacks for me and something to drink and strides away into the green, leaving me to hurry after him. I only roll my eyes but grab the swords and follow him.

After about half an hour of letting him calm down, I sit up determinedly. Time to start my plan. So I pull the swords to me and inch closer to him.

"Kanda? Can you please do me a favour?" I ask softly.

He grunts, "What, moyashi?"

In favour of getting somewhere I ignore my nickname and instead come up in front of him, looking at him pleadingly.

"Can you please show me how to fight with the sword? Like we did back then."

My eyes are fixed on him, when I see his widen at my bidding. When I still lived in Japan he showed me the basics and we would spar sometimes (he being ridiculously stronger than me) which often eventually turned into one of our usual brawls.

"No way, moyashi. You're pregnant, we can't fight now," he growls an answer, trying to look everywhere but the swords I am holding in his face.

I pout, "I never said anything about our usual fights. I only want you to show me how to wield a sword."

"You can't fight now, you are – "

"Pregnant. Yes, you mentioned that. And that's why I am asking you now, because soon I will be too huge to move properly so I need to learn the moves now. So I will be able to defend myself when I'm back on the streets," I prod on, hoping to get through to him, "Please Kanda."

I see an unknown emotion flash in his eyes when I mention that I am returning to the streets. He stares at me and I can basically see the fight going on inside of him. Even I can see the longing to hold the sword again in his eyes. The sword defines him, always did, and he needs it. But on the other hand his stubbornness which still connects the sword with Alma's death won't let him.

"Please Kanda. I know I am already making you do so much for me, but I promise I won't ask for anything else after that, I will even make my meals myself. But please train with me now," I continue to plead.

His eyes fix now on the wood I am still holding out to him. As he doesn't protest this time I simply push it in one of his hands and pull him on his feet. It takes me some effort but regarding he is more or less unresponsive and only following someone's (my) lead it works. When he stands I pull him to an open space of grass and step next to him holding my sword. I smile at him.

"Come on, Kanda. I need your help. The stance was like that, right?" I position my feet as good as I can remember. "And now? Like this?"

I do some movements with the sword, deliberately wrong. He blinks and scowls at the sword in his hand and then at me, but he doesn't say anything.

And then, slowly and reluctantly, he starts to show me how to do it, correcting my stance and movements. I purposely make him show me the moves over and over again, before copying them. And it is fascinating to watch how fast he slips into the rhythm again. After only a quarter of an hour there is no doubt in his step anymore, no staggering or reluctance, only the cat-like grace I always admired about him. He himself seems surprised but starts to do more on his own after about one and a half hours, which greatly relieves me because a) it is great to see him back doing Kendo b) I am beat! Sword training is fucking exhausting with a child in my belly. How much exactly is that baby draining of my energy?!

So I am happy that after some time I can just let myself fall down back onto the grass next to the place Kanda is still training on. And I am completely content with simply watching him. He is moving like he never stopped sword-fighting (even though he did for two years). But most important, for as long as I have seen him after these three years, for the first time he looks completely at peace. His old way of coping brings him as much calm as it did back then. I am happy that I was able to make him feel better at least for some minutes. I just hope he doesn't give it up again after that.

But I am not the only one who is watching him. People who were taking a walk in the park stop to look at him. The way he moves is graceful and enticing. I smile, I always found it beautiful when he was training. To me it looks more like a dance sometimes. A deadly dance though, if he wants it. And he is not even using Mugen which he knows like the back of his hand (and the steel just looks better than the dull wood of the training sword). But after Linali's comment I haven't yet dared to give the sharp sword back. A small crowd has gathered by now, watching him. His eyes are closed but I am pretty sure he is aware of them and not exactly happy about it.

Nonetheless he trains for nearly three hours. I have set on dozing after some time to regain the energy I spent during moving my own sword. When he finally finishes with a long series of fast slashes and a jump he has the faintest hint of a smile on his face. Then he lowers his sword and turns to make his way over to me. He earns applause from the people who were watching him but he ignores them, his eyes fixed on me. I gulp because he is smirking while he approaches my resting space. I hold my breath when he steps next to me, but the first thing he does is grab a bottle of water from the basket and drink.

Nonetheless I have to gulp. From the training in the sun he is sweaty, some strands of his long hair plastered to his neck, his muscles are more pronounced through the damp shirt. And well, I can't exactly ignore the man I love (/want) all sweaty and hot next to me. Yes, yes, I know. That pregnancy symptom kicked in. But it's not my fault he looks so good!

That's why I have to force my body to concentrate when he lets himself fall down next to me, his scent overwhelming me. Luckily he doesn't notice. Instead he only smirks at me.

"I know what you were after," he says to me, voice slightly husky from his work-out.

I gulp, "Uh…" is the very intelligent answer I manage.

But his smirk only grows, "You never wanted to train how to fight yourself. The only thing you were after was to force me to take the sword back in hand."

He means that! Thank god. I release a deep breath. I answer with a (slightly wavering) smirk of my own.

"Maybe"

He turns to look straight ahead, his face changing from a smirk to a thoughtful one.

"Well, you sure as hell succeeded in that."

I frown at his expression, "And I think it did you good. Do you regret it?"

It takes a moment of silence then he answers, his eyes never leaving the sun setting on the horizon.

"Not really. It helped me get all that shit out of my head for some time."

I smile and lay a hand on his arm, "See? That's what I meant with 'you need sword-fighting'. It is your way of coping with bad stuff that happens and without it, the results are dangerous."

"Hm…" he makes an approving sound but still doesn't look at me.

I sigh and simply watch him, the red light of the sunset playing on his pale, angular features, alighting them. Strands of his silky, black hair catching in the wind. Those deep, dark eyes gleaming with unreadable emotion. Suddenly he turns to me.

"Then I guess," he says very silently, "I have to say thank you for forcing me back to the sword."

"It was my pleasure," I breathe, surprised by his words.

He chuckles softly and for a moment I am back in time three years ago, when our world was still undamaged. No bigger problems than schoolwork, petty fights, annoying family and maybe the first love. My first love is now laying next to me and I can simply enjoy his presence. We rarely had these calm moments back then because one of us would surely start an argument. Yes, even we grew up, in a positive direction as well.

I look at him and blush softly when I realise just how close he actually is. Our noses are nearly touching and he is staring straight at me. I am looking back, losing myself in his dark orbs, expressive once more but unreadable. Oh how I wish I knew what he is thinking right now. My only thought is that I simply had to lean a tad bit closer and then I could kiss him. Or maybe that he seems to be leaning closer to me. It can't be, can it? He could never have this same intent. My heart is beating fast in my chest and I am taking deep breaths. Just one centimetre closer…

That's it for today. Thanks for reading.

Uh-uh what is going to happen here? ;)

Sorry, cliffhanger, but the next chapter is going to be up on Monday so you won't have to wait long.

See you then and please review.