Ch 9

_________Home is the place where you find dirty socks under the bed__________

Five o'clock. Kanda's eyes snapped open. It was five o'clock and he had to get up. The adrenaline in his body that was sleeping just a second ago, was now flowing furiously towards his brain, sending him jolts of energy. Hn, today was the day. The day when that small skinny brat finally will stop sending the fridge furtive looks. He will make him get up at five, eat, then eat, then eat some more, so he will not be able even to hold the food inside. Kanda's lips curved slightly, the eyes narrowed murderously, foretasting the chasing and kicking and the collapse of the fridge. This…will be good. Definitely.

"Get up, brat." The new bed was in the same place, the living room. It occupied quite the space, blocking the entrance and the availability of the TV. Which was good. The brat had to read. He was thirteen, yet could read an only word in English: Anatomy. Tch. Weird rascal.

"Get up, dolt! It's five o'clock!" A soft snoring was the only response to the horrible proposition. The man's left part of the face twitched in a nervous tick. He grabbed the blanked, ripping it off.

"I TOLD YOU TO GET UP!!!! ARE YOU DEAF???" The boy whimpered, lifting his legs to his chin. A sigh, and he was drifting again. Kanda shook gently, touching his shoulder. No reaction, none at all. Another shake and the kid turned on the other side, clasping his chest. The third motion sent him flying into the carpet, the mattress falling on top of him. A few seconds of silence and...snoooooreeeeee.

"Wah! Demonic rascal!!!" Kanda yelled loudly, the floor above crumpling slightly. That did it. The boy got up, and promptly extended both arms. His eyes were polluted by dreams.

"Kanda san, I want to sleep. Give it back!" The blanket was in the man's hands, as unreachable as a millionaire's wife. "Give it back!" Kanda smirked.

"Hell no, moyashi. It's the middle of the day. Stop dreaming!" Allen frowned, his eyes still raped by the sleep. "I have slept from three. Now it's five. I slept two hours. I need to sleep. I do! Give it BACK!!" With the last word, he leaped like a frog, clenching Kanda's leg. Allen's body weight worked like an iron ball with a chain.

"Let go, Brat! I said, let go!!!" He tried to drag his leg away, but the boy stubbornly clutched onto it, dragging the pants down. Kanda threw the blanket far, far away, reaching for the kid. But it was too late. The brat grabbed a pillow, banging it viciously in Kanda's torso. Puff.....The pillow cracked, a cloud of feathers silently snowed on the already white head. Allen blinked, the murder look fading. Now his face was truly expressing fear and guilt.

"I..i i i didn'....I didn't meanit, mean it...." He stuttered, backing away. A loud bark interrupted his apology. Kanda was barking. No, he was laughing...perhaps. The man covered his eyes with the left palm, his shoulders trembling in an emotional outburst. He wasn't crying, was he? Allen gulped. He slowly approached the man, hesitantly tugging his black shirt.

"Kanda san, are you Okay?" Kanda stopped as suddenly as he started the unintended action. He turned around, still covering the eyes. The corners of his mouth were jerking up, as if two fish hooks were pulling it upwards.

"God, you are impossible..." He reached out to pick up a feather from the boy's head. It wasn't a feather, it was a lock of snow-white hair.

"Ow..." Kanda humphed.

"Let's go, brat. We need to prepare breakfast. Don't count on me so much. I'm not your mother." The boy stiffed, looking away. Kanda bit his lip. He shouldn't have said that. To ease the atmosphere, the man patted Allen's lowered head. "Well? Are you coming?" The boy obediently moved, slightly resembling a healthy zombie.

_____

The kitchen was white. It was a beautiful place, the only one where Kanda's dark colored taste did not dare intrude. Allen climbed the tall chair frowning at the cup of coffee that was put under his nose. Kanda caught his glance.

"What do you want to drink?" Allen murmured the response, totally incomprehensible.

"Well? I'm kind of waiting here, brat!" Kanda opened the fridge, glancing inside.

"S-Strawberry milk, if you h-have some..." To his amazement, Kanda did have some. He ripped the carton, annoyed by its hardness. The glass was finally full, put on the table in front of the boy. No reaction. Tch. The brat was sleeping, head propped by the good hand. Hn...Was he that sleepy? He softly picked him up, the boy's head rolled into his chest. He was extremely light, like an eight year-old, if not even lighter. He even was much shorter than the average thirteen-year-olds, just think about Komui's sister, that girlie was twelve, but she surely was taller that the brat.

"Huh, why on earth are you on the short side, moyashi?" Moyashi did not respond, he just clutched the shirt tighter, nuzzling his nose into the black, and now wet with drool, shirt. Tch. He will have to change that later. The brat was carefully placed on Kanda's bed. The blanket was dropped on him, and the door closed with a soft click. Huh, brats are really so troublesome... Well, while the little beast was asleep, Kanda definitely had time for more important things. Humph, where should he start?

"You shouldn't have," Kanda slowly picked up the scores. "I doubt he will be able to play with that arm of his. And I don't think he will survive, under your methods of teaching." A pink cup of coffee was slammed into the table, as if it were an elephant foot.

"My teaching methods? My teaching methods are GREAT!!!! No matter how stupid the child, I will show him the way!!!" The man jumped up, making a dramatic gesture. Kanda tiredly decided he will never come to this apartment again.

"I don't need you to show him the way, I am quite sure he can show YOU the way..." Komui sat down, his enthusiasm suddenly draining. He carefully observed Kanda. Damn, those violet eyes were to creepy...They almost pierced his soul. Komui sighed, running his fingers in the thick, black hair.

"Kanda... This is not like you....Taking in a street child... Are you sure you're sane?"

"SHUT UP!!! ARE YOU SANE, CLINGING TO YOUR SISTER LIKE THAT, YOU DAMN PSYCHO!!!" Komui jumped up, his face red and furious.

"SHE IS THE ONLY RAY OF HOPE IN MY LIFE!!!! DON'T TALK ABOUT HER, YOU, PEDOPHILE!!!" Kanda gripped the man by the throat.

"Care to repeat that again?" The man squinted, and started struggling. Suddenly a tug attracted Kanda's attention. A girl in a pallid dress was standing behind him.

"Kanda-san, you have a child?" Komui fell on the floor. He started whimpering about her purity, yelling that Kanda could rape her mind. The girl paid no attention. Her violet eyes were locked on the guest.

"Child? Hn," the man sat on the couch, tiredly watching the girl. She was bigger than the last time he saw her."It's more like a pet, or a protegee..." The girl's eyes smiled. The mouth did not.

"You want him to play the piano?" She timidly smiled now, happy for some reason.

"I don...He wants it. He told me it is his dream." She sat on the carpet. Kanda watched her somehow indifferent. He never cared about children. Before he didn't. Now he wondered how Komui did it, raising such a small girl by himself. And he surely did a great job. Lenalee was definitely well raised. Komui sometimes came at two in the morning to show Kanda her report card, and borrow some vodka. Then he remembered that Kanda didn't drink, and he ran off to another victim.

"I think I'll be going now, Komui. Be sure to take care of your brother, girlie. He needs somebody, that idiot." Lenalee got up. Her legs were almost see-through, so pallid and fragile. NOW he understood why Komui shook over her. Damn, he would shake too, if she were his sister...

"I am really glad you came, Kanda-san," she bowed, her pigtails slightly touching the floor. "I apologize for my brother, he is nervous..." She straightened, then extended her hand. "Could you please deliver this to Allen? I am sure he will like it." Kanda smiled inside. This thirteen year old girl was more thoughtful than the women he went out with. Hell, she is going to grow up a fine woman... He took the package. A box of chocolates. The brat probably liked sweets too. The door was open, the hall ready to swallow. Yet he made them wait.

"Lenalee, what school are you going to?" The girl inquiringly stared. Komui often said that stalkers try to find out the address of the victim.

"Why-"

"I need to send the brat somewhere, I can't babysit him every day." Lenalee's eyes warmed.

"I go to the Black Order, private school. It is a musical school. It has the best teach-"

"Black order, huh," Kanda looked at the ceiling. No cracks in it. "Maybe you'll see him there next Monday, girlie." Lenalee laughed now, her pallid cheeks gaining some color. "I hope you'll help him fit in." The little girl became serious.

"I will do my best," Kanda turned around, leaving. The door was closed. The child sat on the Welcome doormat. "If it's for you, Kanda-san..."

__________

Perfect. The room was perfect. He hummed a symphony, a dark one. The piano was standing there lonely, no pianists present. The small bed fit. The looking glass fit. Even the brat's clothes were arranged neatly in the closet. Tch, it was eleven. Still AM. His days were long, tiresome. But lately he did not feel empty, coming home. It was surprising, even for him. Because of the damn brat he would worry all day, suspecting that the rascal was now falling from the unlucky thirte-no, fourteenth floor. Moreover, he wanted to come home. He wanted to worry. It was worth it.

"Kanda-san? Where are you?" The crystalline voice took him back to reality. He slowly slid down the door, opening a can of iced tea. Whoever invented the drink must have a statue, definitely so.

"Kanda-san? you were her-" Allen stopped. His white bed was here. And his Anatomy book. And a piano. He backed away, falling on the floor, next to Kanda.

"K-kanda san, what is this?" Kanda smiled. Quietly, invisibly. There was no need to show it.

"What does it look like?"

"A bedroom..." the brat was silent now. He scrupulously studied his toes. "Why?" Kanda heavily sighed, getting up. Tch, his leg was asleep.

"What is the bedroom made fo--" His irritable rhetorical question was cut in the most shameless manner. The brat hugged his waist, burying his face in his sweater. His skinny shoulders were shaking like a hurt butterfly. Tch. He needed to change the shirt. Again.

_______________________________

So sorry for the short chapter. I know it's weird, wit Lenalee and all. The truth is, I really hate the way Lenalee is depicted in the anime. The last three episodes she finally becomes an awesome character, and the series finish. So unfair.

It is an interesting story, Lenalee's crush. When I was six I had a crush on an old man (He was 26). No reason why. I thought his belt looked cool.