Chapter 4

Summary for those of you who forgot, or skipped ahead:

Allen hears voices. One in particular. He's given an alibi, but the detectives in charge of the case are divided in opinion. While Link is willing to assume Allen is innocent, his partner does not. So to clear his name, Allen goes to listen for ghosts, and then ask around the poorer, syndicate-controlled part of town.

a/n: Thank you for the reviews so far! I appreciate them a lot!

This part: Allen and Kanda get on each others' nerves. Lenalee and her brother attempt to learn more about the mysterious young Noah.

(Kanda)

I watch the white-haired youth slowly circling the back-streets. He bobs his head politely, and seemingly at random, stops at a stall.

"Sorry to trouble you, ma'am, but I seem to have lost my way," he murmurs, touching a gloved hand to the counter, his face a picture of confused innocence. "Ah, is that dried squid?" his face brightens. "And candied apples. You must see quite a few lost travels looking for a bite," he laughs, and leans on the counter.

"May I have a candied apple?" his voice is bright and carefree, but the calculated interest in his eyes makes Kanda assume this is the boy he heard about. "Say," he murmurs, leaning in farther still. "Have you happened to see a guy come by here recently? Mid thirties, dark hair…name of Jacob Atkins?"

I slide into place next to the traveler, causing the few other customers to step away. "You're causing a scene," I say evenly, eying the boy with suspicion.

The white-haired youth starts with a small yelp. "Ahh, you startled me!" He smiles, laughing nervously.

I take the stranger's arm, and begin to pull him away from the crowd where I can question the interloper. I shove him roughly against the brick wall of some shop or other. "So you're the stupid kid going around asking after a dead man."

"What?" the boy frowns, his lips pursing in confusion. "I didn't say—"

"Jacob Atkins." I scoff, and tighten my grip on his shirt.

"News travels fast around here," he laughs. "I've only been looking…" he fishes in his shirt pocket to pull out an old and cracked pocket watch. "…two and a half hours." He looks mildly surprised. "That isn't so long."

"What's an airhead kid like you going around asking about dead men for?" I consider the pale boy, wondering if my bosses really want a pale kid like this brought in for suspicious behavior. I pull away and turn my back, turning my head just enough so he can hear what I have to say. "Back off. Stay out of what you don't understand, or you'll get the wrong sort of people's attention." I take a few steps into the alley.

crunch. the boy is munching on a candied apple, obviously unfazed.

My eye twitches. Stupid kid doesn't even know how to handle a warning.

"So you know about Mr. Atkins then." It's not a question, and the vowels are a little sticky with candy. He follows after me, oblivious to the fact that I just had him pressed against a wall.

"I'm Allen." He touches my shoulder and half spins me around. I'm too surprised to resist. "Allen Walker."

Is this kid crazy, or just stupid?

Allen smiles and opens his mouth to speak again. "I know he was murdered. Actually, some detectives came by my place—place of work that is—and they said a Noah was seen. But I don't know how that could be, since it was out of the district, and most everyone was asleep or at the Church."

"I don't care. I don't know about your Atkins, and I don't care if some detective thinks you murdered the Pope." I shake away and take a step back. "What I do know is that you're asking uncomfortable questions in the wrong territory."

Allen shakes his head and smiles ruefully. "So you know the streets?" he presses. "You'd know somebody who know anything, or heard something then, right? If I could just talk to some people who knew more about…well, anything…I think—"

Before I can even think of a response in words, I have my fingers on my knife hilts, a blade in each hand. I hold the point to Allen's throat, and hold the other out, away from my body, ready to slice or jab if he so much as frowns at me.

"Just shut up, and stay out of things you don't understand. You're in the wrong territory to go around asking question without some sort of response." I glare at him, willing him to stop chattering and just leave.

Allen stares at me, his expression surprised and vaguely alarmed, like he just realized he's talking to a crazy person.

I glower.

High heels click behind me. "Kanda! I thought I saw you huff off into an alley. Really, I wondered—" Lenalee's voice is high and fluting. "Oh, I didn't realize you were talking to a friend!" She sounds like she could be making small talk in a sweet shop.

Only then does Komui step up behind her, his arms laden with paper bags from some store or other. "Good afternoon, Kanda," He smiles, his tone all at once pleasant and questioning. "Is that the best way to have a nice cozy conversation with a friend?"

Lenalee has already walked up beside him, and she clucks her tongue, shaking her head. "So sorry. Clearly our Kanda hasn't been raised right. He's being rude." A pale hand touches his wrist. Reluctantly, I put my knives away and meet Lenalee's questioning gaze.

Without a glance at the interloper, I switch to Cantonese, guessing the bastard wouldn't know up from down in it. "This kid has been asking a dead guy in your territory. People might start making connections simply because he's asking questions."

Lenalee giggles. "You sound positively sulky. Did he ruffle your feathers that much?" She shakes her head. "Besides, no one told you to neutralize any threats. You're attracting attention yourself, you know."

Allen watches them exchange words, his bright eyes shining with curiosity. He steps away from my knifepoint, confident now that he won't be stabbed. He smiles at Leenalee, and opens his mouth. "Do you know Jacob Atkins?"

Part 2: Entreating

(Allen)

Intuition and a quiet flip of Tim's tail suggest I ought to be quiet. The girl's tone is cheerful enough, but her manner is wary. I'm more than a little leery of that kind of double-talk...but I smile for what I'm worth and give a nod.

"Why don't you come in? Have tea and chat for a few minutes." The older guy seems a little reluctant to extend the invitation. But he's looking at Tim and making a half-interested face, so... maybe we could share thoughts.

"I'd be delighted." I copy what I think of as Mana's favored bow. When I meet his eyes again, he's smiling slightly, as though he'd caught an answer he wanted to hear.

"Just this way." He continues. He nods in the direction they'd been heading. "Kanda, if you could join us?" It's not really a request the way I see it.

Kanda looks as though he might scowl, or maybe bite through his tongue. "I suppose." He allows thickly.

We move down the street in silence until reaching a little shop fit snug between two taller buildings. The windows are dark, but a little white painted coffee cup gives just the right image. We unceremoniously enter, but instead of some staff ushering us to vacant seats, the person simply looks up, smiles thinly, and bows at the lot of us.

The place was a bar in some earlier incarnation, and the smell of tobacco and coffee mixes on the tongue. The apparent leader of our group settles into a corner of the shop, and he says pleasantly, "so, with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

Kanda stands between him and I, and acts something of a buffer. He looks at me haughtily, and makes no move for hospitalities of any kind.

I smile thinly at that. "Pleased to have your acquaintance." I extend my hand while meeting his gaze. "I'm Allen Walker."

Kanda looks at my hand and the scowl deepens. He brushes by, murmuring, "It would not do to exchange coffee and conversation with a fool so ignorant as to attack with improper questions and ignore the gracious nature of his host." Those kind of words with that kind of attitude seems a little odd to me.

I can't help but stare. "You just don't want put words behind us." I say, trying to affirm his meaning. "It seems to me-"

The girl cuts me off. "Forgive him. He's a little rough around the edges, like I said. And I move to push propriety a little further and ask, Allen Walker," she's a polite distance yet, and so her gaze seems pointed rather than challenging. "Why are you looking into such a person here?" The young lady-Lenalee I think someone said- presses in closer. I can smell some of the shampoo she used on her beautiful hair.

I blink slowly, wondering how I ought to begin.

Kanda rolls his eyes. "This little bean sprout? Don't bother asking, Lenalee He couldn't answer you straight if he wanted to." He tosses his high ponytail much as a horse might.

The play between dialogue is hard to catch. There's almost a certain air of polite civility, but then there's Kanda.

"My dear, cute, darling little sister," as though Kanda hadn't spoken, the brother begins, and suddenly the situation makes more sense. He's chaperoning her somewhere; he's not her would-be-lover or friend. "What sort of tea did you want?" His playful nature is almost enough to break the tension.

My eyes focused on Kanda, I pull a polite retort out from behind my dry lips. "Maybe Mister Kanda would be better pleased to continue this conversation elsewhere." I draw my hand in, revealing the black lines on my left. "Or is it that you just can't stand touching a Noah with a marking about him?"

Lenalee and her brother exchange glances, and I watch the young lady change her stance subtly. I doubt they know the true significance of the markings on my hand, but the gesture seems to catch their attention.

"Are you here to pick a fight?" Lenalee asks, frustration clear on her voice as any written sign. "Because I won't have you damaging- I mean- hurting-" she stumbles, a blush blooming on her cheeks.

Strange, I think—but it makes sense. She's trying notto think of Kanda like a doll…something makes him different enough, I suppose. Makes him worth casting off society's damning, belittling stigmas. Curiouser and curiouser.

By their mix of high speech and low banter, it's hard to read the mood. But I can guess they'd think better of me if I matched the tone pitch by pitch.

"I'm in training to be the Musician of the People," I politely interrupt, saving her any further embarrassment. "I hardly would like to soil my reputation. Besides," I shake my head, regretful. "I can't afford anyone hearing about that sort of accusation." I bite my lip and hunch my shoulders just so.

I see the man's aggressive posture fall away, his expression changing to concerned curiosity. Interesting that he should step into the Game before his younger sister.

"And why's that?" Kanda snorts, taking the bait. Yosh.Time for me to spill.

Except that it's not some sob story imagined to get the best in a Con. It's just the truth. But old habits die hard, I suppose. I still unconsciously try to milk the situation for all it's worth.

I give a frustrated sigh, shake my head—this time to mark me a frustrated, powerless boy. "Someone heard a rumor that a Noah murdered someone." I pause, look down. "My description came up." I open both palms, swinging my arms out in a gesture of peaceful questioning.

Another moment of bated quiet. Time to reflect.

"Jacob Atkins," Kanda tells them quietly.

I nod, all serious and forthright.

But it breaks in another moment.

Lenalee actually giggles. "Look at you! Playing at finding justice and clearing your name." She shakes her head, her long hair swaying at her side. "You'd be better off doing nothing. Staying in plain sight and keeping your normal routine." She cocks her head to the side. "Unless you didkill him. If that's the case, you'd better run hard and fast."

I'm stunned for a minute.

The man holds out his hand. "Lenalee, be a dear and go get everyone coffee." With a start, I realize the bar tend hasn't come to our table. He's pointedly ignoring as...

In the same moment, she stiffens, seeing his rebuke for what it was. But then she's all sweet smiles with a demure bob of the head. "Of course."

Sitting at the bar, the older brother looks a little out of place, what with his long legs and gangly build, but not out of sorts. He gestures at the more awkward (or is his face always like that?) Kanda vaguely. Then he looks directly at me. "Lenalee doesn't trust you," he notes absently. "She's rather protective of her family, you know." But his smile is for Kanda. "And I think she has a point…" he glances at Tim again. "Might I enquire…?" His voice is almost tentative .

I smile a little and nod. Tim flutters to his side, and he reaches out—but Tim flits away. "Tim was with…a relative of mine," I say carefully. One rule. Keep it simple.

Kanda mutters into his shirt sleeve. I only catch "stupid" and "skinny" something or other, and infer the subject of his derision to be me.

"Marian Cross, right?"

I look up in surprise. "Wh—" I blink rapidly, trying to figure out howhe could know that name.

"He's related to you?" Incredulous. He's looking just over my shoulder, not looking into my eyes at all.

"…well, not really." I admit. "I don't think so." Chagrined and reeling, that's all I can say for a few seconds. Whistles and bells are going off in my head; I can't be caught in an outright lie now, or the whole story (true as it is) could fall down around my ears.

"I traveled with him for a while. He was like an uncle to me," a scheming, blue devil uncle, but good enough. I continue hesitantly, as if ashamed. "I don't know my blood family. Not a one."

The brother looks like he's got more to say, but Kanda's looking over his shoulders, a dark expression overtaking his surly glower. "Excuse me." He says stiffly. "There are some people to talk to you." Boss.I can almost hear the title he leaves off.

I can't see anyone, but the man takes Kanda at his word and smiles apologetically. "I'll be taking my leave here." He stands up, brushing wrinkles out of his coat. Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "Don't be so blunt about your behavior, Allen Walker." He tips his hat. "It'll only bring trouble."

The approaching man comes into view from around the corner. He's dressed in an expensive suit I've never seen around our part of town, but the cut and color scream of shady business—or at least poor taste.

In the rustle of fine clothes, Lenalee returns with four paper cups. Wordless, she presses one into her brother's hands and sets the rest on the table. When she's distracted by so many people coming in, she looks almost vulnerable…

Her hands curl. She looks at me, expressionless. "Be more careful." She says simply. "And try and keep low, all right?"

It's odd that she's so concerned when she's only just met me. But her large, pretty eyes settle on Kanda then, so I can't be sure she's talking to me at all.

She pushes a cup at me. "Here."

And without another word, she trails off after her brother.

Kanda's eyes roam over me once more, but he makes no move to follow. "You can see yourself out." He says flatly, and I realize with a flush that neither of his superiors said so much as good bye. I've been dismissed by their hired underling, and he's not polite about it…

Well. I wonder where this little meeting has left me…

tbc...

Thoughts?