A/N: Well, that was a good start…OwO Thanks to those who reviewed on this story! 8 is one of my favorite numbers, so it inspired me to finally update! xD I won't be making the next chapter until the reviews reach 17 though…because 17 is another favorite number of mine. 8DD As soon as I receive 17 reviews, I'll immediately update, so the fate of this story is in your hands! 8DD

Read, REVIEW, and Enjoy!

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Chapter 2

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"What the fuck do mean? You can't fix it? You're a freakin' scientist, Komui! You should know something!"

Kanda had finally arrived in the Black Order Headquarters after a long and fortunately uneventful journey on the train. He had hastily charged into Komui's office, leaving the unfortunate Allen to carry his entire luggage for him. But of course, Kanda didn't feel any pity towards the obnoxious beansprout. That was pretty much impossible for the samurai. He arrived at the supervisor's office in haste, hoping to hear good news from the aforementioned scientist.

However, the news that hit him was far from comforting. In fact, it was just the opposite.

"Don't shout when I'm right beside you, Kanda," Komui sighed, clearing his maltreated ears. "I told you. I've examined your arms a dozen times already, using all the available technology we have. I really can't find anything wrong with it. At first, I thought that Tyki Mikk might have purposely damaged the nerves that connected your arms to your spine, but when I checked, they were untouched. Your arms are very healthy, in fact."

"So what the fuck is wrong?" Kanda growled.

"Swearing won't fix your arms, Kanda," another voice interrupted them. It was a voice that Kanda knew only too well since it was one of the things that really, really irritated him.

Allen walked into the room and stood in the midst of the two older men, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He gave Kanda an annoyed frown. "Komui-san is doing his best to help you. Stop being such a jerk and act grateful for once."

"Don't just butt into conversations you're not part of, beansprout," the longhaired exorcist snapped, giving the white-haired boy a fiery glare. "Shut up and go eat like a pig. None of these concern you. Get out."

"You can't kick someone out of a room that isn't yours, Kanda," Komui interrupted, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He really couldn't understand what was wrong with these two. Did bright white hair and dark blue locks really repel each other? Komui frankly thought that the two would be friends the moment they set their eyes on each other (then again, this eccentric supervisor obviously forgot that he was the one who gave Kanda the order to attack Allen the very first time the boy stepped into the Headquarters' premises). "And actually, this conversation does concern Allen's presence."

Kanda's eyes narrowed. Anything that concerned him and the beansprout at the same time didn't spell "good." "What do you mean by that?" he suspiciously asked, having a feeling that this wasn't going to turn out nice for him.

"I've assigned Allen to be your personal assistant until I find a way to fix your arms. Since he was once part of the circus, he's very knowledgeable in activities that require balance with only the use of one's feet. Though you're a master in martial arts too, you've been more focused on balance with your hands, since you're a swordsman. So, to make you capable of handling missions while your arms are still immotile, Allen will be training you on how to maintain your balance while carrying a dead weight, such as your arms, and he'll be teaching you some leg-techniques too," Komui explained, and gave Kanda an expectant look. "No objections."

"Like hell there aren't!" Kanda hissed, glaring at the two other men in the room. "Do you know what the fuck you're saying, Komui? Me? Be trained by him?" he shot a look of disgust at Allen, who gave him an indignant scowl in return. "Can't you just hire some other acrobat instructor instead? How about that redheaded rabbit? Or Lenalee? She uses her legs more than her hands, for heaven's sake!"

"I will never allow my darling little sister to be a man's personal assistant," Komui gravely answered, and gave Kanda a comically threatening look. "Why are you so keen in getting Lenalee, huh, Kanda? You don't happen to have any dirty things in mind, do you?"

Kanda released his fiercest glare. "No, you damn sister-complex."

This conversation was over.

"Whatever, Kanda. My decision is final. Hiring another person would just add to expenses, and I don't think Central would like that. Anyway, Lavi and Lenalee are away on missions at the moment, so they wouldn't be able to help you. Allen would be your personal assistant. Period," Komui finalized, ignoring the murderous waves coming from Kanda. He glanced at Allen. "You don't have a problem with that too, right Allen-kun~?"

Allen shook his head. "It'll be a pain-in-the-ass, but I've got nothing to do now, so I think I'll have to do my best in helping the less fortunate," he replied, throwing a smirk at Kanda's direction. "I'll kill you, beansprout," Kanda growled, but Allen merely scoffed at him. "With your hands like that? Puh-leaze, Kanda. Give a threat that you could actually do. You're a swordsman who couldn't wield a sword for heaven's sake."

Kanda was really itching for homicide right now. But he knew that attacking Allen with no hands and a messed up sense of balance would just make him look like an idiot. And he'd had enough of ridicule for one day. Especially if most of the insults came from that white-haired bastard.

Still fuming, Kanda released an infuriated sigh, and stamped out of the room, slamming the door behind him like some kid throwing a tantrum.

Komui looked uncertainly at the door. "Don't you think you went a little bit too far, Allen-kun?"

Allen shrugged. "Someone's got to bring that guy back to earth, sometimes. He can get to thickheaded when no one's keeping tabs on his ego."

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Kanda kicked his dorm room open – since he obviously can't turn the knob – and kicked it back shut. He sat down at the edge of his bed, a still-aggravated look on his face. He so wanted to dice that annoying "old man" right now, but he knew that he couldn't. And that fact, in itself, was the most dastardingly annoying one of all.

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn! Kanda's mind screamed as he began kicking things in his room, toppling the chair over and knocking off the vases, the books, and all the other stuff that were inches off of the ground. His abused leg was already throbbing with all the bruises he was receiving but the hell did he care. All he wanted was to release all his frustrations in the only way he knew. Violence.

His arms hung limp at his sides, and they were exactly what Komui described them to be. Dead weight. Dead weight. Stupid, fucking, dead weight. Dead. His arms were dead. That was a fact. And if Komui couldn't find a remedy for it, then it'll be dead, forever. Fuck. This was sick. His arms died before him? Stupid shit.

He couldn't even meditate properly, for crying out loud! Without his hands, he couldn't regain that position that had always been successful in calming his senses! Argh!

He'd really kill that Noah. He was the cause of all this. That bastard from hell. Kanda will kill him. That was a promise that he would keep, or else his soul will never find peace.

Everything.

Everything was just too messed up right now.

He glared at his hands. His dead, immotile hands. The hands that once so proudly held Mugen, cutting down hundreds, no, thousands of adversaries with polished movements he had so meticulously learned and trained for.

Now, all that hard work was for nothing. Everything…eighteen years of living for the sword had been wasted.

He kicked his dresser and down came the vase of flowers Lenalee had insisted on having in his room. The Chinese porcelain shattered loudly as it hit the stone ground, making sharp shards fly around. His abrupt movements caused his arms to swing, the sudden weight making his body lose its previous balance. Kanda slipped, nicking his left foot with a shard from the broken glass and landed – fortunately – on his bed.

A cry of anguish escaped his lips; yet, Kanda was manly enough not to cry. Now, he was just frustrated. He wasn't depressed or anything as pathetic as that. For now, Kanda would just let out all his frustrations, and then he'll find a way to fix things somehow, without that beansprout's help. The thought of Allen brought another irritated sigh out of his mouth. Oh, why, oh, why did it have to be him? Everything was already so awkward in the train…why did it have to be awkward in here too?

He remembered that mouth-feeding session and how it clearly degraded his pride. Kanda didn't know how he'd be able to live properly with Allen feeding him soba. That beansprout didn't even know how to properly handle chopsticks for heaven's sake! But all the more will he scream for bloody murder if they would make him eat soba through a straw.

At the thought of food, his stomach started releasing rumbling sounds, which clearly manifested how hungry he was. Kanda hadn't eaten anything since that morning and now he was famished. However, despite how hungry he was, Kanda would rather die than be mouth-fed by Allen, again.

His legs were now marred with bruises, while a steady trickle of blood came out of his nicked foot. Kanda merely sighed at the pain, for it was something insignificant compared to his current dilemma at the moment. Closing his eyes, the samurai exorcist willed the hunger to go away as he drifted back to his only sanctuary: dreamland.

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Kanda woke up to someone annoyingly poking his shoulder.

Opening his eyes, Kanda found himself face to face with Allen's annoyed expression. His cursed eye was twitching in obvious irritation, while his arms were once again crossed over his chest. He was seated on Kanda's chair, and was using his foot to poke Kanda's shoulder.

"Well, sleeping beauty finally wake up," Allen drawled, looking quite pissed off. Kanda frowned, and sat up, glaring at the white-haired boy. "Get out of my room, beansprout."

"It's Allen," the boy hissed, obviously not in a good mood. "Get that name into that thickhead of yours for once, Kanda. And sure, I would just love to get out of your room. However, since I'm your personal assistant now, I can't," he added, scowling. His hand made a brushing movement across the room. "Not with all this mess lying around."

Kanda followed Allen's hand, and was initially shocked himself. He had forgotten about the tantrum he had thrown a couple of hours ago. Glass was lying around, and his books seemed to replace the carpet. His clothes were lying around – probably thrown out of his dresser when he was mercilessly kicking it – and lots of other trash that weren't worth mentioning. Kanda tried to stand up, but the pang of slight pain that shot up from his legs made him pause. He looked down and saw his feet bandaged, reeking with the faint smell of an ointment he didn't recognize.

"Were you trying to kill your legs too so it could match your arms?" Allen sarcastically asked, raising an eyebrow at Kanda who just stared at his legs in silence. "I came in here an hour ago and found this hell. And your foot was bleeding too, adding a stupid macabre touch to the scene. And there you were, sleeping like a corpse on All Hallow's Eve. C'mon, Kanda. I'll help you as much as I can, but at least try helping yourself too. You aren't the type who'd throw a tantrum like this and act all depressed. I know you enough to think so."

"You talk too much, beansprout. Just get out and leave me alone," Kanda muttered, staring blankly at his legs.

Allen rolled his eyes in exasperation. Kanda really was stubborn. Almost as stubborn as him. "Whatever, Kanda. I'm not leaving. Anyway, you've got to fill up that stomach of yours. It's been growling like a demented wolf for the past thirty minutes. Anyway," Allen paused and took the tray of food that Kanda had failed to notice earlier. "I brought your food here, since I know that you wouldn't want me to feed you in front of the whole Black order population. So here you go."

Allen took a fork, and began twirling it to get hold of the soba noodles, much like how English people handle pasta. "Hey! You're doing it all wrong!" Kanda protested. He didn't want his favorite dish to be handled in such a Western way. "You should use chopsticks, beansprout! Not a goddamn fork for goodness' sake! Don't treat it like spaghetti!"

"I don't know how to use chopsticks, so deal with it!" Allen retorted, sticking out his tongue at the annoyed exorcist. "Say 'ah!'" he instructed, holding the fork towards Kanda's mouth. The samurai kept his mouth shut, glaring at the boy. He wasn't going to fall for Allen's tricks again.

"Oh, c'mon Kanda!" Allen whined, a bit too childishly. "Don't get all upset over me not using chopsticks to handle soba!" He retreated the fork and decided to try another tactic. He then began to move the fork in circling motions, while making weird flying sound. "Broooosh. Here comes the akuma!" he chirped, maneuvering the fork towards Kanda's mouth.

Kanda couldn't take it anymore. He just had to reply to that one. "Why the hell would I want to eat an akuma, you –"

Bull's-eye. The food went straight into his mouth.

"Victory!" Allen cheered, as he clamped his hands on Kanda's mouth, keeping him from spitting the food right out. A mischievous light appeared on his eyes. "Choke or chew? Your choice, Kanda."

Kanda scowled at Allen's words, and scowled deeper as he saw that victorious smirk on the boy's face. If only he could, he would have spitted on that idiot's face by now. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Kanda started chewing, keeping his murderous stare on Allen, who seemed completely undaunted by it. He didn't really want to chew, but he'd rather take in the food, than to have his tombstone labeled with "A swordsman who choked on soba served with a fork."

Not a very nice way to go.

"Okay, so here's the deal. Let me feed you, and I'll make sure that no one else finds out about this mouth-feeding session of ours. For the sake your stomach, and both our reputations, you have to agree to this, Kanda," Allen proposed, running low on ideas on how he'll be able to catch Kanda's mouth open next time. He knew he wouldn't be as lucky.

Kanda frowned but thought about it. Indeed it was an advantageous proposal, since the two things that he valued most received benefits: First was his physical well-being, and second was his pride as a warrior. He didn't give a damn if people liked his attitude or not. But he did give a damn about a fighter like him being mouth-fed in public, like a helpless baby. Kanda didn't mind being seen as a total asshole. But what he hated was to be seen as weak.

"Fine," he replied as soon as Allen removed his hand. "You've got yourself a deal, beansprout."

"It's Allen," the boy whined, and now it was Kanda's turn to roll his eyes. "Whatever."

This peaceful exchange made Allen smile a bit, knowing that Kanda was now far away from the brink of depression. When he had first entered the room, the first thing he presumed was that Kanda had committed suicide, which was not really unlikely. For a swordsman like him to lose the most important part of his body – his hands – it would have been completely devastating. Allen could remember panicking when he saw that blood dripping from Kanda's leg, only to sigh in relief when he realized it was nothing serious.

Really now, Allen didn't know that he would be that worried about Kanda. Kanda was a total jerk, superbly stubborn, violent, short-tempered, and would never ever call him by his real name. Yet, Allen was still anxious about the samurai. Why was that? Allen didn't really know. And for now, he didn't really care. It was probably only his never-ending sympathy and "kindness" as the others said. He couldn't leave a wounded man alone. No matter how painstaking the task is.

The feeding session, or Kanda's lunch, lasted for a whole hour, mostly because of all Kanda's complaints and all Allen's fed-up rants. But still, they were able to at least clear the whole tray of food, and now, it was bath time.

The situation suddenly rose to a whole new level of complications.

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"Don't touch me there, you idiot!"

"Oww! Dammit, Kanda! We'll never be able to get your pants off at this rate!" Allen hissed, nursing the red lump on his forehead as Kanda gave him another head-butt.

"I told you! I can do it myself, beansprout!" Kanda growled back, inching away from Allen who was moving towards him.

"What, are you going to bite your zipper off too?" Allen sneered, lunging at Kanda and kept a dead man's grip on the samurai's waist. Kanda tried fighting him off, but whenever he would try to kick him, his sense of balance would be thrown off. "Stop being so stubborn! It's just your pants!"

"Yes, it is my pants! It's mine so back off!"

Allen released a frustrated sigh, and with all his might, he grabbed Kanda's hip and tore older boy's pants off. The tattered remains of Kanda's black jeans unceremoniously floated down to the tiled floor of the showers.

"Agh! Look what you've done you damn beansprout!" Kanda hollered, kicking and struggling harder now. This was really, really, awkward. Not just the fact that he was already half-naked in front of another person, but the most disturbing part was that the aforementioned person was clinging to his half-naked body.

"Shut up for once, Kanda! You can ask for a new pair of pants after we're done. In the meantime, stop moving around! I'm having a hard time removing your boxers!" Allen whined, his face reddening at the words he had just said. It sounded…really disturbing when it was said out loud.

"Idiot! That's exactly the point! Why would I cooperate with you when you're sexually harassing me!" Kanda snapped, a small blush already creeping up his face. Good thing Allen was clinging from behind him, or else the boy would have seen the red tint on Kanda's own face. Really now, this lack of space between their bodies was very uncomfortable.

"Gah! Fine! We'll just have to take a shower with our boxers on!" Allen exclaimed, giving up as he released Kanda from his grasp and turned away.

Kanda sighed as he felt his body released from Allen's touch. But before he could fully feel relief, something in Allen's words. The samurai's eyes widened as it all dawned upon him. "Hold on a minute, beansprout. What do you mean by 'we'?" he asked, turning towards the white-haired boy, who was, to his horror, striping his own clothes off.

"What else would it mean? I can't soap you with my clothes on, idiot," Allen muttered, his face turned away as he removed his own pants, leaving him as naked as Kanda was. If tomatoes were people, then Allen would be one. The red color on Allen's face was nearing the realm of "supernatural" because of its intensity. He didn't really want to say his task out-loud because it was just too embarrassing, but Kanda just had to ask. Great. "You can't protest, Kanda. You're dirty from your previous mission, and you haven't taken a bath since then. You reek of sweat and dirt," Allen grimaced, though none of that was really true. Kanda didn't smell revolting; in fact, he didn't smell bad at all. Allen knew that very well, considering how his face was pressed against Kanda's skin only seconds before.

Kanda immediately turned his face, in fear that Allen would see the sudden rush of blood up his face. Oh, why did this have to happen? That Noah should have killed him instead.

"Do anything perverted, and I'll kick you in you-know-where, beansprout," Kanda growled.

"Of course I wouldn't do anything like that!" Allen replied, his face completely scarlet. "It's just you and your dirty thoughts, ba-Kanda!"

"Che. Whatever," Kanda retorted, facing away from the other boy as Allen opened the shower. The feeling of cool water against his skin relaxed the stressed samurai, and for a while, he forgot about the awkwardness of the situation. As the cool water rained against his tense muscles, unwinding them, Kanda couldn't help but release a small sigh as he closed his eyes in contentment. Taking a cool bath after all that chaos feels good.

The feeling of soapy hands on his back unexpectedly interrupted his momentary reverie. Kanda's body immediately grew rigid, and his eyes snapped open to the fact that Allen was now soaping his body. He didn't move an inch, and remained as stiff as a statue.

"Relax," Allen suddenly stated, in a voice that was strangely assuring. With that voice in his mind, plus the soothing movements of Allen's hands as he soaped and semi-massaged his back, Kanda finally surrendered and loosened his limbs.

Allen moved his hands across Kanda's cream-colored skin, marveling at the smoothness of its surface. There were not marks on his skin, not a single scar remained from all those battles the older exorcist had fought. As Allen touched Kanda's lean and muscular body, he couldn't feel but feel awed by how perfect the latter's body was. It had all the desirable contours a man would ever dream of having, and Allen couldn't find a single flaw in it.

It was just so perfect…and beautiful.

In an attempt to make Kanda feel more comfortable, Allen started massaging the other's back. He had learned a lot of things through the odd jobs he had to take in order to pay for his master's debts. Being a masseuse was one of those odd jobs. It helped him polish his massaging skills, and so, Allen was sure that the treatment he was giving Kanda was first-class.

Kanda, on the other hand, was silently savoring the movement of Allen's hands against his back, and once again, like that moment in the train, he felt grateful for Allen's presence. No one had ever dared to massage him before, and he didn't let anyone do so. But now that he realized how nice it felt, Kanda felt a bit of remorse over all the things he missed. Nevertheless, he had a small feeling that only Allen would be able to give such a good massage among all of the Black Order people.

The moment was undeniably pleasurable. Kanda had no idea that Allen's calloused hands would feel so gentle and soothing against his own skin. The boy was really talented; he knew a lot of things that Kanda didn't even know existed. Yet, he wasn't too boastful about anything. In actuality, the only thing he was proud of was his prowess in cheating while playing poker, which was quite a wrong thing to be proud of, considering the long list of talents Allen could choose from.

Allen's hands glided over his skin, caressing his firm shoulders, and snaking down to his lower back. He moved over them in small circles, applying only the most comfortable amount of pressure possible. Allen could feel Kanda's muscles slowly unwinding and submitting to his touch, and strangely enough, Allen liked touching Kanda's body like this.

His hands then moved towards the front of Kanda's body, and began soaping and massaging the other's abdomen, slowly traveling up to his upper torso. Then suddenly, one of Allen's hands unknowingly brushed against Kanda's nipple.

And automatically, as if it had been pre-programmed in him, Kanda released a low moan.

With that, Allen suddenly froze.

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A/N: Wheeeeeee~ Cliffhanger! Bwahahaha! Remember! I need the reviews to be at least 17 for a proper motivation! 8DD Ciao~