Things might have gotten off to a better start if Komui had been a bit more organized, but as it was, everyone was startled to hear the knock at the studio door.
"Are you expecting anyone, Lenalee?" Johnny asked.
"No," she said, looking up from the barre where she was stretching. "Reever?"
"Maybe it's maintenance," he said, "although I told them never to come in during rehearsal time." "Like they ever listen," Johnny muttered.
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Kanda would have stomped toward the door had his light stride been capable of it. He was capable of yanking the door open, however, leaving the visitor frozen midknock. "We're not holding auditions. Go away."
The visitor's hand dropped from a clenched fist to an offered palm. "I'm so sorry," he said. "There must be some mistake. My name is Allen Walker." "So?" Kanda said, ignoring the hand.
"I should be expected," the newcomer said, a pained expression on his face. "My teacher, Marian Cross, sent a letter of recommendation to someone here called Komui."
At the sound of the name Marian Cross, there was a stir among dancers clustered at the far wall, who stopped stretching to listen. Johnny and Reever started whispering and Lenalee went for her bag to fish out her phone.
"Don't be stupid," Kanda said. "Marian Cross doesn't take students, and nobody's heard from him in years."
"A lot of people have heard from him," Allen said ruefully, "just not anyone who matters."
"And anyway, who sends letters these days?" Kanda said. "Doesn't Cross know how to use email?"
"He may have done, I don't know," Allen said. "He said he was sending something. Could I at least come in until this is cleared up?"
"No," Kanda said. "We're busy, and we're not charging admission, and we don't know who you are. Go away."
"Kanda, shut up!" Lenalee said. "All right Komui, I'll hold on."
"What's he say?" Reever asked her, and then his phone buzzed. "Shit! Komui?" Lenalee rolled her eyes, but kept her cell pressed to her ear.
"How am I supposed to know?" Reever said. "Why don't you check? Yeah, yeah, okay." He sat down at a battered table and opened a laptop. "Hurry up and gimme your password, Komui. Kanda's getting cranky."
"Come back in an hour," Kanda said to Allen. "Or maybe never."
"Kanda, shut up!" Lenalee said. "Reever?"
"You've got over ten thousand unread e-mails, mate," Reever said to his phone. "Yeah, I know how to search, I just don't think I should have to. You should have a folder for letters from incredibly famous dancers who have vanished off the face of the earth and want to recom…well, I'll be stuffed! Here it is. 'Dear Komui, I'm sending you a kid named Allen Walker. Take care of him.' Looks like it landed in your spam folder. Nah, it's the only one from him. Right. Already done."
"Yes, I'll take care of it," Lenalee said to her phone. "Don't worry. I'll see you soon."
"How do we know he is who he says he is?" Kanda asked. "He looks like a freak."
Lenalee picked up the clipboard from the table as she walked, bringing it down firmly on Kanda's head as soon as she reached the door. "Shut up, Kanda! Both of you, get in."
Kanda retreated, holding his head and glaring, while the newcomer advanced cautiously, giving everyone else in the room their first good look at him. His clothing was unremarkable, black shoes, black trousers, white shirt, and a black blazer with a familiar crest embroidered on the left side. Every one of them knew that he had pulled a red striped tie from around his neck and tucked it into his pocket, probably a little over half an hour before, because all of the school-age boys among them did exactly that when they spilled out onto the front walk at the end of the day.
There were some side-long glances among the dancers. Perhaps he belonged there after all.
From the look of his face, though, he didn't belong anywhere. His skin was pale, so pale that it was barely possible that his hair was really white, and it made the scar that bisected his left eye even more shocking, a deep channel of red against warm cream. At first glance, he looked like an old man; at second glance he looked almost inhuman.
Lenalee held out her hand. "You're Allen Walker, right? I'm Lenalee Lee. Welcome to the Black Order."