Ch 3

Wahh! I got a kick! Because I'm a bit of a masochist, I'll say thank you, CrimsonKitsune333! Especially for you I will make this chapter longer than I usually write!

_______________When doing a favor, watch for the consequences___________________________________

Sunday. It was Sunday. Why the hell did God invent Sundays? To piss off Kanda? Hn, probably. Kanda stared depressed at the French window who in its turn watched the world impassively, transparent and a bit dirty. Tch, he had to wash it soon. He didn't mind household chores as long as they did not pile up, watching him struggle and swear. Hn… He will wash that today. It will be a good opportunity to fill this empty day. Hn…. He put the window solution in… Tch. Where did he put it? The window stared at him in disgust. What kind of workaholic thinks about washing windows without leaving the warm bed?

Tch. The clock was ticking with a persistent, annoying sound, like a time bomb. He had to get up later, at 5:30 at least, or the day will be thirty minutes longer…. Tch. Kanda shifted, ungluing his eyes from the window. It was gray and wet, like an abandoned old man with a hangover. The sky was sobbing like a kid in the mall. What was that kid anyway? Why did he have those strange tools? Tch, twenty four minutes to go….

He never kept plants in the house. They were such a hassle… They died on him, creating a mess. Moreover, as long as he was in the room, they would shyly wither, as if he were an energy vampire. Plants were not the only creatures that kicked the bucket in his company. Once, he had a dog. The thing got rabies the second day and was "arrested." The cat that was given in Kanda's care became self-conscious and behaved like an AIDS infected person. When it died, the autopsy confirmed: he really had AIDS. Hn, he hoped that the tramp did that too. Died. The faster, the better. Tch. Twenty two minutes to go.

According to a strange unwritten law, the noises of the apartment were amplified thousands of times, making Kanda able to hear even the faint moaning of a couple that lived above him. God, people were such materialistic creatures… The moaning died away, replaced by a slight creeping noise in the kitchen. Kanda half raised his torso, supporting his body on elbows. A scratching sound. No, it's something else. Kanda slightly cocked his head, as if that position made the sound louder. Nothing. Tch. The elbows were penetrated by a dim electric batter. Uff…

The clock did not hurry. The time seemed to mock Kanda, stopping at 5:21.

WAAAAAHHHHH!! This is so pointless!!! He will just wash another window and sort the garbage! This will fill this damn day!!! He jumped off the bed like an animated bullet, hitting the ceiling with the top of his head. The ceiling gasped and dented in. Wahhhh, it hurts. He sighed. The pants were shapelessly laying on the floor, like an abandoned skin. He sighed again. Why, why did people love weekends? So pointless…

The fridge was full in the evening. He could put his hand in the fire and swear it. Now, it stood there bared, showing it's ribs. Kanda fell in front of it affected by a powerless wonderment. Wha…Wha… It was full yesterday! There is no way he ate it DURING the night! He never had any eating disorders! Kanda cupped his chin. Hn, did he have them….? Nah, it can't be..He laughed, full of fear. Oh god, he really needed to go to a docto-

"Kanda-san? What are you doing in front of the fridge? Are you praying to it? Are you? Oh my god, you are such an material-"

Allen shut his mouth the next second feeling a bloodthirsty gaze. The man got up and left, leaving the boy in the kitchen. He got that way every time he saw him. Allen lowered his eyes, letting them wonder on his crippled arm. He still could not move that thing. He could not even feel it. Everything was crushed, even the nerves. That still gave him time. He had to find out more about the man.

The boy sat on the floor, embracing his ankles with one hand. He could already move, not fast, but he could move. Kanda yelled at him every time he needed to go to the bathroom. Huh, he could understand that. That man hated him, for intruding in his life, for inconveniencing him like that… Allen smirked. If Kanda knew who he was, he would be killed by him in an instant. The smirk grew wider at the thought that he wouldn't be even jailed. By the law, Allen didn't even exist. If he died, there wouldn't be any corpse. His master was right, spies are like bugs. They see; they are not seen. Once discovered, they die.

He still could not find the file on the case. Crap, if Cross finds out he was just wasting time, it will get even worse for him. Five years, just five more years, he will be eighteen then, and the contract will be fulfilled. He will be free then. He will be able to live his life beautifully. He will go to school, finally ready to be in his place. When he will have been graduated, he will get a job, a real job that will allow him to graduate from a community college. He heard they give financial aid and scholarships. With his brains, it would be possible. A loud sound brought him back to reality.

Still, this was a good place. A week was enough. Cross is waiting for a report. That bastard even pushed him under the car to get him into Kanda Yuu's house. That man had such a good friend. A friend. The boy smiled gently, touching the cover on his right eye. He still could not see with it. He frowned, feeling a foul odor. Three days already passed, and he still did not change the cotton bandage.

Kanda found the window solution in the bathroom. The hell… It was supposed to be there. He approached the window wondering how it opened. Maybe French windows don't open… Then how are people supposed to wash them?

"Kanda san…" The boy was behind him. Kanda snapped out of his window thoughts and turned around.

"What do you want now?" The boy hesitantly shifted his legs. Damn, so slow. "Well?"

"I must change the bandages. I haven't changed them for three days. And…I do not have any clean ones." Tch. Kanda got up exasperatedly. This kid always, ALWAYS made his day full. The WORK day. The one he liked. He cursed, letting his hand ramble in a small closed. Hn, there it is. He pulled out a box with a huge red cross on it.

"There you go, tramp. Bandages. Now, get out and don't bother me for the rest of the day. I have work to do." He threw the box on the floor, pacing away. The solution was in his hands again, accompanied by a huge sponge.

"Kanda san, I don't think the French windows are supposed to open, not on the fourteenth floor."

Kanda turned again, irritated.

"Listen, kid… If you don't get out-"

"I can't, Kanda-san. I need to change my bandages. I can't do it with one hand, even if I wanted to, and believe me, I want to." Crap. The brat is right. That bothered him even more. He hated to be wrong as strongly as he hated to lose. He never lost.

Allen watched him carefully. His emotions were so easy to read. Hatred, calmness, serenity, irritation. A simple kaleidoscope of feelings that could not be hidden, not from Allen. The boy calmly changed his expression to that of shame. His eyes lowered facing the floor. The cheeks were getting pinker by the second. That should work. Kanda was such a simpleton; it was easy to figure him out. He mentally adjusted his voice, so it would match his face.

"Kanda-san, I really am sorry for inconveniencing you… I am so helpless…" He clenched his dead arm, as if he was holding himself from saying more. He could see through the bangs Kanda's reaction. The man bit his lip, turning the face away. Huh, such a simpleton. Shame. There was shame plus guilt on his physiognomy. Allen chuckled inwardly. How naïve. This man was so easily controlled.

"Well? What are you standing there for?" Kanda was holding a pair of scissors. The boy approached him slowly with light catlike paces. He had a strange grace, moving quietly, like a shadow. Allen sat on the sofa next to Kanda. The bandages were slowly taken off, revealing trails of pus and blood. Allen covered his mouth. It made him so sick he would gladly cut off the arm and throw it away. He lifted his face to see Kanda's reaction. The man left him speechless. His face was emotionless. No feelings at all. Zero.

This can't be. It's impossible! Allen felt a rush of panic in his head. This man could control his emotions consciously. That man had a natural talent. But this can't be. His emotion must be manifested somehow, by his eyes, or fingers or back…

He glanced at the older man. His eyes were mute, dead, emotionless, no, it was something else. Hollow. They were abnormally hollow. To an untrained eye, it would seem seriousness, or graveness, or indifference. The range was too grand. He wouldn't know how to act. Allen gulped and felt fear creeping under the skin. If this guy were to know he was here to steal a file, Allen would not know about it. Kanda will, he definitely will hide his emotions. He glanced again, this time at his back. Relaxed yet straight. Relaxed while staring at a wound filled with pus. Not even Cross could have done it. As a last resort he sneaked a quick look at Kanda's fingers. His palms were big, almost twice as his own. The fingers moved fast, efficient, with no hesitation. No trembling or shaking of any sort. Impossible! He was the perfect opponent, and he was afraid of perfect opponents. If he fails here, the contract will be prolonged for another five years. This was the worst. He had to be abnormally careful and find the file as soon as possible. He jerked away, his skin reacting to a warm touch.

"What are you doing, tramp? Or you don't want me to change the sheet on your eye?" His voice was mocking. Allen looked up, with a startled expression.

"Wha..Did you say something?" He paled, realizing he could expose something unconsciously.

"Do you want me to change the bandages on your eye?" Kanda's voice was firm as were his hands.

"I..Yeah, tha-that would be great…" Kanda was watching him intensely. Something's not right. He could not put his finger on it. The brat was strange.

Allen sat closer, letting the man do his work. He felt the fingers on his cheek, warming to the touch. A strange smell with oriental hints filled his nostrils. Kanda's hands moved slower, gingerly removing the old bandage. Light filled his previously closed eye. Thank God! His vision was a precious tool he could not afford to lose.

"Can you see?" Kanda's voice sounded professional. He was now trying to decide between bandaging the eye again or just leaving it to respire. Allen moved the eyeball up and down.

"My eyelid… does it bleed? I can't feel it.." The man cupped his face, touching the eyelid with a finger.

"It left a scar. A pretty big one." His words were hollow and dry. "I think some aesthetical surgery will be able to make it better."

Allen rose and approached the window. It reflected a small, scrawny boy with a dead arm. He felt the sudden urge to kick the window open and jump, jump to forget. The scar twisted from his forehead, cutting his eyelid in half. He bit is lower lip, killing the weep. This was too much. He was already the object of ridicule thanks to his small stature and abnormally colored hair. This will make his life hell. He clutched his arm again, this time involuntarily. Cross… He hissed, unable to hide his hatred. That man had to be killed like a dog. Just for a mission he pushed the boy under a car. Bastard. He squinted, trying to keep the salted water inside. He will pay, he will pay. That bastard will pay it with his life. The reflection stared back, letting the snot run and mix with the tears. It hurt. His entire life hurt, like a wound. The pain was abnormal. It shouldn't be that way.

A big warm hand patted his head. Kanda was behind him, pulling the shades down.

"Stop it, kid. It's not so bad. I have seen worse. I told you, I will pay for the surgery. Don't worry." The hand stroked his hair ever so gently, unlocking the muffled weeping. Allen turned around and buried his face in the man's chest. He cried then, cried as if his soul returned to life. Kanda let him cry, standing there like a warm, comforting statue. He finally bent down, embracing his small frame. Allen needed it. He needed it badly. A boy who was born in the lowest world, used and taught to use never received comfort. But this man gave it to him; he gave him something his own father never offered.

The big hands pulled him up, filling him with that smell, that oriental smell. The weeping died, replaced by quiet sobs and hiccups. Kanda put him on the sofa, making sure he was comfortable. He fondled his hair again, smiling with his eyes.

"You sure are small, brat. How old are you?" his fingers were caressing his cheek. "Your parents must be worried."

"I-i-I do-don't have any parents. I-I was abandoned." Kanda's eyes narrowed, still smiling.

"Oh, I see… Where do you go to school?" Allen looked at him startled. Something was wrong.

"I-I don't." Kanda's smile became thorny, as if the man was waiting for something. Allen half raised on the sofa. The next second his neck was gripped by a steely hand. He was in the air, having a huge trouble of breathing. Kanda was below him, staring in his eyes directly with a sneer.

"I can't hear you, Walker. Did Cross eat your tongue?" He threw the boy into the wall, leaving him half unconscious. Fear bound him, paralyzing his legs. H-how did he know?!? It's impossible! How? He gawped at him intently, replaying every memory in his mind, trying to understand. Kanda grinned.

He took out of his pocket a bunch of metallic pieces.

"This is yours, is it not? Kid, when doing a favor, watch out for the consequences. And don't be as stupid as to write the name of your owner on them. It really was a good hint."

Allen clenched his jaws. He felt despair filling him with no mercy. He lost. He lost the game. He lost everything. If he returns to Cross….The boy let his hand fall powerlessly. He had to run. He had to. He glanced at the door. It was half open, letting the kitchen odors come in.

Allen sprung up and run for the door as if the hell itself was after him. Screw the folder, he had to live and someday get to that damn school. There will be future as long as he walks. As longs as he lives chances will come. The door was kicked open, letting him escape. He shut it back barricading it with the commode. Kanda was inside yelling something.

He ran through the well known hall, hitting his toes in the front door, hoping it to open. It didn't. He almost yelled in despair, fumbling with the keys. No, not this one. The bunch of keys slipped from his hands, creating a deafening sound. Faster,faster!! This one did not match either. It has to be this one. He held the small key, trembling. This was his last chance.

It did not fit. His mind went blank. It cannot be true. Suddenly, he remembered. There was a key in the kitchen. That was the spare key Lavi used. He knew it well. He spun around and froze.

Bent down to his eye level, there stood Kanda. Their noses almost touched. Allen felt the blood leaving his body; he couldn't even cry out.

"Looking for this?" Kanda whispered, grinning. The precious key was thrown behind him while his arms blocked any action, placing themselves on either side of the brat's head.

"Do you really think you can run away?" Allen swallowed a huge and painful lump in his throat. He had to do something. Gathering all is power in the good hand he struck Kanda in the temple. Yet, his hand was stopped, stopped by one of those hands that just took care of him. Kanda clenched his hand making the boy utter a hoarse cry.

"Pathetic. Did Cross really fall as low as to send a tramp to sabotage my case?"

Allen fell on the floor, both arms useless.

"I AM NOT A TRAMP! DON'T CALL ME THAT!" The cry, desperate and furious at the same time left Kanda unimpressed.

"I am not a tramp!" he murmured, sniffling. The waves of pain were coming back, scalding his brain.

"I… am not, just not…" He was crying now, throwing everything away.

"Yes, you are." Kanda coldly watched him squirm under the gaze.

"You are one of those who follow without questioning. You are one of those who follow blindly their master, waiting to be petted, like mongrels. You are one of the idiots who lack the courage to leave their boss even if he doesn't give a fuck about their life. They are you."

He slowly approached Allen, lifting him by the shirt.

"W-w-w-what w-will y-you d-do with m-me?" He looked at him frightened. Kanda was going to kill him.

Kanda lifted him higher and threw him on his shoulder. He paced in the living room, throwing the kid roughly on the same sofa.

"Tell me. Tell me how you tangled your life with Cross."

___

Huh! Pretty intense. I so tired I could fall and die on my laptop…

I like cruel/mature Kanda. I really do. Almost in all of my fanfiction (four :() he at some moment "Shows the right way" through kicks and punches. Poor Allen.