Restless
It isn't often that he feels this unsettled. The jittery, anxious feeling that crawls up his arms is making him stagger and twitch—losing the concentration that he normally maintains solidly. His training, usually smooth, is a catastrophe and he's already thrown off the blindfold for lack of ability to keep himself settled enough to not dance around the wood grounds like a bull in a China shop.
That fact annoys him. Even as the steady slice of Mugen through the air brings him back to his rigorous exercise, he can't shake the restlessness that's clamoring around and making him feel like he needs an herbal tea and bath just to keep his blood from racing through him like he needs to run a marathon. For what it was worth, he's probably moved enough to have outworked what he would have done in running a marathon.
The cool breeze over the damp air has kept him cool, but he can still feel a cold trail a sweat down his back. It's at least two in the morning and he's one of the very few outside of the compound. He only knows of one other person outside, but he's not going to say for certain there aren't others.
What he does know, though, is that there is only one other person in the same section as him. His senses, heightened by years of meditative training and staying in tuned with his surroundings, alert him that he's not even the only person within the immediate area. It's not a physical feeling, but more of a mental intuition. Like eyes are on him; watching him and following his motions.
And it's setting him off in a way that annoys him to the point of frustration.
However, he's somewhat thankful.
Because from what he's gathered, with every pull of muscle and stretch of limbs—taking in his surroundings in the disguise of a workout—Allen Walker has no idea that he is perfectly aware that the boy is watching him.
It makes it easier to accept that he's a complete wreck.
A/N: Kanda is such an awkward duck.