Ch 12
_______________Family is the place where...What the hell is it?!__________________
"Just try to lift it, yes, just like that!" Allen clumsily tapped hid middle finger. It was red as if it were sprayed with ketchup. The nail was shiny and black. How creepy. But it moved, it moved again. Up, down. The nail tapped, Kanda sighed.
"How long will it take?" Reever frowned. This man was too impatient.
"Kanda, do you get that this is not as simple as it seems? His nerves just awakened and you want to him to function properly?" Kanda cheed and closed his eyes. Allen fidgeted on the seat. He sat just between these men who talked about him without looking at his person. He felt uncomfortable and self conscious. Kanda jabbed the brat in the forehead to attract his attention.
"Brat, go outside for a little while,' he rumbled through the pockets, finding the keys. 'Get into the car and wait. I'll be after you, shortly." The keys were warm and heavy. Huh, Kanda must have kept them in the breast pocket…
_____
When the door closed, the brunet got up, facing the window. With the brat out of the way it was possible to ask real questions, not that play Reever pulled before.
"Reever, tell me straight. Is the brat going to recover?" The man frowned and let his eyes down. His hand was combing the light brown hair with concern. Kandaturned away. Tch.
"He isn't, is he?" The pregnant silence was very, very unproductive. The doctor sighed for the third time.
"Kanda, I have no idea what that child is. I have never seen anything like that." Kanda spun around. He was now alive, even if it was a dark interest.
"What do you mean?" Reever penetrated his eyes with a strange glint.
"His body, Kanda. Did you look at his body?" Kandabit his lip. Tch.
"Yeah, he is abnormally skinny, even if he eats half of my salary." Reever smiled understandingly.
"Well, that too, but it seems that his hand was crushed to nothingness,' Kanda tcheed. And it was his fault. Damn. "And now, that very hand is recreating itself at a very fast pace. I do not understand why hadn't the doctors amputated it in the first place." Kanda fell out of the chair.
"What do you mean?!" Reever smirked. That got his attention.
"Kanda, just think about it. Allen is hit by a car. His hand is just porridge of blood, crushed bones and tendons. Yet, SOMEHOW, that very porridge rehabilitates to a very precise shape it was before, not only that, it does it in about…" Reever expectantly eyed Kanda. The man counted mentally.
"Twelve days." He responded, frowning and crossing his hands.
"Yes, twelve days. And now it moves. It moves, Kanda!" Kanda tcheed.
"What do you want me to do? Squeal in amazement just because it moved? It has to move, dammit, it's a hand that's healing!" Reever dropped his head. He almost moaned out the words, stupefied and left in despair by the man's denseness.
"It wasn't supposed to move, Kanda, it wasn't! Moreover, it is IMPOSSIBLE for it to move! Only a..a.. I don't know, a mutant, or a very, very, very… Screw that, no luck in the world can make it heal!" Kanda held his breath. This was going somewhere he did not expect it to. Good thing the brat wasn't here.
"Are you suggesting he is from the Farms?" Reever bit his thumb nail.
"I really hope not. But it seems that he is, Kanda. No, I'm afraid he is." The last words were whispered without any power. The man was palming his face, murmuring in despair. "I didn't want to tell you with him here. But, Kanda, you have to send him away, do something to get him out of your house." Kanda watched him coldly. His face did not even flinch, not even a muscle.
"I am not giving him away." Reever raised his face. He was pallid. Kanda turned elsewhere, searching for the handle of the dark, oak door.
"What do you mean?" The silent man paused. Just for a second.
"I do not repeat myself." Reever jumped up. The chair fell on the green carpet, killing the sound.
'Kanda, you can't be serious! That boy is a-" The handle was gripped with a force that made it shrink. Kanda narrowed his eyes.
"Shut up. So am I." Reever stood dumbstruck. He gripped his hair, making it look like porcupine's. Then he smiled, defeated. He never expected to see Kanda cling for the life of another person.
"Kanda, do what you want. It's your life. But do be careful." The brunet never turned his head back. He just jerked the door and paced away, leaving it open. Reever chuckled, touching his beard.
"That Kanda…Hn, he sure grew up…" He closed the door, smiling to himself.
___
"Kanda san, is something wrong?" Kanda watched the road. It seems that he spent these days in the cars, fast food joints, then cars again. Damn. He could barely unclench his jaw to respond.
"Nothing. Everything is well." Allen scowled. He wasn't OK. Even a eruditely blind idiot could see that. He was too pale for starters. Allen nodded, agreeing with the statement. Two, his hair was messed up. And Kanda had pride in his hair. He would carefully braid it before sleep, and carefully brush it before going outside. Yup. Allen nodded again, agreeing with the second statement. Three, he was not cursing. Even now, an incredibly slow grandma with blue hair was crawling ahead of them, sometimes stopping and deciding agonizingly slow where she wanted to turn. Kanda drove behind, with those dead eyes of his.
"Kanda-san, are you sure you're ok? You are very pale!" Kanda was silent. A few seconds passed and he finally turned his head.
"Did you say something?" Allen stared at him as if he saw Christ on a nude beach. THAT was alarming.
_____
They finally were home, one tired, the other one indifferent. The keys were thrown into the glass bowl, and Kanda rapidly entered the bathroom. A few seconds later, Allen could hear the water crying out. Kanda never took showers in the middle of the day. The boy sighed. This was too much for his brain. Maybe that doctor told him something so horrible that made Kanda like that? He put a finger to his lips, cogitating profoundly. No, there was nothing Reever told him, nothing that could make Kanda so out of character. Ummm, maybe it was after he left? Come to think of it, why did Kanda send him out of the room? Maybe he wanted to discu-
"Brat, what are you doing here?" Allen shot his head up, startled. He was near the bathroom, leaned on one of its outside walls. Kanda severely raised one brow. Allen fidgeted under the glare.
"I..um, needed to go to the bathroom..." The man's face seemed relieved, just for a second. Then he frowned again.
"Then what the hell are you waiting? I came out five minutes ago!" Allen nodded, disappearing in the steamed room. Closing the door he glued his ear to the keyhole. He could hear Kanda pacing through the living room; he could hear the bathroom robe falling heavily on the sofa, the clicks of the metallic buttons and the hissing sound of fabric being pulled up. Ho sighs, no curses. The man appeared to be mute. Mmmmm, that was strange.
The boy sat on the wet floor, his eyes slowly tracing Kanda's footsteps back into the bathtub. His clothes were on the floor, like some kind of dark blue, abandoned skin. His hair tie was floating in the water that was slowly going into the drain. That carelessness wasn't like Kanda. Something was very wrong. Allen sighed and flushed the toilet. If he lied, he had to make it look and be heard as truth. The boy exited the bathroom then, looking a bit lost. The living room was dark and deserted. Kanda's presence was in the kitchen now, and strangely, talking.
Allen tiptoed to the door and peeped inside. Kanda was at the stove, both arms supporting his depressed torso. His hair was erratically laying on his back, wetting the black shirt. He stood motionless. Next to him was Lavi, in his outside clothes. His orange coat was firmly shut, the owner too oblivious at the temperature of the house. His face was stricken by something similar to grief or pain, or maybe both. Allen's chest was now cringing.
"Yuu, are ya sure? He may be just...ya know... special. Or maybe, ya know.." He was trying to cheer him up, give him hope. Or at least it looked like it.
"Lavi." Kanda's voice was dry and washed away. When did he lose his voice? He spoke normally in the car! Allen gulped, trying to crawl more comfortably under the semi-closed door. The redhead slowly retreated in his chair, letting his eye close, his sadness and concern evident.
"I should have thought about it before. I mean, Cross sent him. It had to be evident to me then, before this...attachment." Lavi slowly rose, his eye startled and glinting strangely.
"Are ya suggesting that ya'll keep 'im?!" Kanda slowly nodded. He nodded as if he just signed his own death sentence. Lavi rapidly leaped across the room like a huge, red dog. He was hugging Kanda now, patting his back. The next second he flew away, holding his nose.
"Get off of me, rabbit!" Allen almost squealed. Kanda was back. No depressed back and shoulders anymore!
"What the hell are you doing under the door, moyashi?" The boy jerked up, his eyes fixated on the man's. They were angry, they were deep blue, but they were not dead. At last. Kanda cocked his head, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Well?" Allen pouted. Heck, he had to say something in his defence. The last time he was "overhearing" was his only time when he almost lost his ears.
"I...I... was smelling food." Kanda covered his eyes with the palm of his hand and sighed, annoyed. Then he moved away, pointing at the kitchen.
"Stuff your snout." Allen laughed weakly and jumped to the fridge.
____
The lamps were dead. The huge french window was populated again. Allen slowly mover his middle red finger. In a few days, he will be going at a music school called Dark Order. What a name... It sounded more like a religious organization. And there, he will play the piano. The boy lay on his back, arms in the air. His thoughts were far, far away, not here in the small, dark room. He imagined the huge high corridors of the school, with grandiose candelabras, and a huge, black piano. Heck, he will be good at it. He will surpass everyone. Allen smiled contentedly. He glanced away, meeting the indifferent gaze of the piano that stood by the window. Umm, it wasn't THAT late, right?
Mi. That was mi. He knew that key. The sound spilled through the room, invading every ear avaylable. Then, this was...umm, re? Or Do? He made the sound resonate just by hitting a small pedal. There were three of them. The first made the sound dissipate into the space. It made the key sound soft, powerless. Then there was the other one. It held the sound in the air, making it so much more beautiful. And it lasted even if he hit another key. What if...
He slowly held up his left arm. If it was healing, a little exercise wouldn't hurt it, right? One finger, then two bent to create that round shape. No, they looked like claws now. Um, maybe if he...
"Brat, why the hell are you up? It's two in the morning!" Allen yelped and fell off the chair. Kanda was leaning in the door-frame, crossing his arms. He looked tired and annoyed. The boy peeped behind the seat, hopelessly trying to conceal himself in its shadow. It didn't work. Kanda threw him a heavy glance. Allen pouted. The glance softened. Allen smiled. Kanda cheed and turned away. The boy took in as much air as possible and...whispered.
"Kanda-san, I heard." Kanda froze. He slowly turned around, laying his eyes on top of a fluffy head. "You are going to keep me, are you not?" The boy was rocking on his heels, back and forth, as if that wasn't a big deal. Kanda felt his lips dry. How much did he hear?
"How much?" Allen looked confused. Why is he talking about money? Catching his mind wave, Kanda clarified.
"How much did you hear?" Oh. The boy looked indifferently at the window. The city was crawling underneath, like a huge, radioactive caterpillar.
"From where you said something about attachments." Kanda let his breath out, slowly, as if he wanted not to disturb the flow of air. He almost heard nothing.
"Why are you telling me this? Aren't you afraid I could flip out and beat you to death?" The kid put both of his palms on the glass. His breath clouded the smooth, cold surface. The wind him kissed back through the window.
"I...don't know." The man snorted. How amusing, a moyashi's philosophy.
"But...I'm glad I listened." Kanda slowly approached the window, looking down. The cars were hurrying somewhere, with a strange dedication, stopless. They were in the life's frenzy, and damn, did they enjoy that...
"That's called sincerity, brat. That is what makes a family what it is." The man's hand was warm and heavy, resting on the boy's head.
______
Huh, NOW I have to think what Farms are....Tch. How troublesome...