A/N: Please remember that just because a character reaches a conclusion about something or someone, it doesn't mean they are right.
Thank you so very much for leaving a comment.
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Synthetic Soldiers
10 – The start of a change
Life with Tiedoll had brought the easiest years of his life. Yes, there was hiding, worrying and running. He could even remember being carried on the man's arms once or twice, before the General noticed Kanda was quite capable of escaping even faster on his own. Even then, in all fairness, nothing terribly bad had happened. Kanda was used to far worse, and thought of that time in his existence as quite peaceful.
Then he synchronized with Mugen, and everything changed. Tiedoll expected him to fight. The Akuma the General used to kill so fast Kanda would barely see now were his direct opponents. And so he battled, though the man had always been there, ready to help when the boy couldn't handle the fight on his own, or that ridiculous time when Mugen refused to activate.
He had thought of it as a wake up call. Now fighting by his mentor's side, the temporary peace was broken, but he also got to learn about the darkness he would have to face if he wished to meet Allen once again. So he learned not only about fighting, but also about tactics to invade a city, the best travelling routes, and even earned a few contacts. When student and teacher separated and went on their own ways, Kanda was certain, despite Tiedoll's many warnings, that he was ready to start the search by himself.
How wrong he had been.
Once he lost Tiedoll's protection and guidance, many doors were closed to him, and he learned that it was almost impossible to infiltrate a city by himself without his mentor's help in smuggling him in. The world outside was filled by extreme poverty, disease and hopelessness, and he was trapped in it. Gone were the fulfilling meals, the soft beds and even the comforting hoof over his head. His provisions drained quite fast, and money was useless in a world where people only valued what they could wear, drink or eat. Broken economics and constant hunting by Akuma turned humanity into a mass of hungry and ill people, that either turned to violence or became catatonic and wasted away. Of course, he had been warned about all of that, but once by himself he understood that, even years after activating Mugen, he had still grown shielded.
Hunger forced him to cut his daily intake of food drastically, and illnesses that initially looked like simple allergies or weak colds left him incapacitated for weeks. He had slept so many times in the open that the mere idea of having a room once more seemed alien to him.
He eventually gathered the courage to invade one of the fortified cities. Under a great risk, Kanda found himself amidst proper civilization once more, after many months of isolation, and it had brought him a strand of hope. With the money he had been uselessly carrying around ever since Tiedoll gave it to him he restocked food, carefully selecting what was easier to carry around and at the same time more fulfilling, and also bought medicine. Outside, the outcasts would give an arm and a leg for one of the small bottles or boxes of pills that were sold so cheaply inside the walls.
That first invasion had gone well, all things considered, but many times he had almost lost his life. His enhanced physique allowed him to run and fight ordinary guards with ease, leaving them behind without breaking a sweat. The Black Order officials were another matter altogether, though, and once forced to fight more competent soldiers, Kanda would eventually be forced to draw Mugen.
Using his Innocence was always a last resort action, because showing to the world he was an exorcist could be a quick ticket to hell. The threat of a fleeing stranger would quickly be upgraded to a top priority retrieval mission, and he would have a small army at his heels, bent on capturing the precious resource Kanda was and dragging him to the Order.
Basically, searching for Allen had been a mix of hunger, cold, the occasional strong illness and a terrible quality of life. Fighting Akuma became as important as hiding from people who would try to kill him in his sleep in order to steal his hard earned goods, and more than once he almost lost hope. Still, he hardened himself and survived, and finally managed to join Allen... and six extra people he had yet to decide whether to classify as allies or nuisances.
Life in a group such as this changed many things. Though the world remained the same, the way of dealing with it was different. For starters, he no longer had to hide from groups of Akuma that were so large and high leveled fighting them by himself would risk his life. With so many talented exorcists together, such threats would be erased with little trouble, and he understood what they meant by having everyone play on their strengths. When by himself, there was no such thing as choosing the opponent better suited to his combat style; he would have to destroy whatever was in front of him if he wanted to survive.
And though so many Accommodators together were bound to attract attention, the Order would never manage to overwhelm them with anything less than an army, one they didn't have at their disposal, unless they were to leave more than one city unprotected.
Of course, there were other consequences that came with joining in. Individualistic thoughts were clearly banned on the team: if you had something others needed, you were supposed to share. That meant that while his resources were no longer his own, he also had, at his disposal, whatever the others had gathered. There were still shortages and difficulty, but Allen had denied ever having to deal with life endangering hunger or thirst.
It wasn't to say things were easy, because they weren't. Their way of life still relied on frequent invasions to fortified cities, where their money was worth something and they could purchase industrialized goods. An infiltration was never done by the whole team as that would be impossible to conceal; instead, one or two exorcists would enter at a time, responsible for gathering whatever the group needed by a limited span of time. If they failed to return in the time limit, they were to be left inside.
The harsh rule was easy for him to understand. If all of them gathered near a city, the risk of capture would be too great. Invading it as a group would mean falling directly in the Order's hands. Still, such a rule only showed Allen could be ruthless when needed, and that somehow eased his concerns. The boy managed his group well, and had yet to lose one of them. He would also always send the best suited people for whatever mission needed to be done.
That's why Kanda hadn't expected one of his first tasks to be like this.
"Miranda, Yuu," said Allen one day to the very unexpected pair, while the frightened woman sent scared looks his way, "please help me find this drunkard."
And so, it started.
He questioned not only their target, but also the person he had been tasked to work with. What was that beansprout aiming towards?
"Y-you are better suited to this part of the mission, I think. My presence would only complicate things. We will meet when we start the infiltration in the cabinet."
Was she telling the truth, wondered Kanda as he was sandwiched between two scantily clad females, or was the apparently shy woman having him on? If she was here, perhaps the prostitutes would leave him alone.
"Have you seen this man," he snarled in what sounded more like a threat than a question, but amidst their unwelcome groping of his person, they at least had the decency of looking at the picture he carried in his hand.
"General Cross!" sang the skinny blonde, eyeing the picture with obvious affection. "But of course. It was such a pleasure to have him by."
"Not as much as having you, though," chanted the redhead, running a hand with long red nails over his thigh, and Kanda repressed a strong shudder. Around them, women eyed him as vultures would a piece of meat. They were easily ignoring the other patrons, and the Japanese wondered what was happening. Did they think he had a lot of money, or what?
Actually, the bean had provided him with a surprising amount of currency before letting him go. Finding this man is always a very strenuous and expensive task, but I do hope you enjoy yourself, said the boy with a wink, and now Kanda only wanted to leave this city and strangle him. Did the kid think he would really enjoy this sort of activity?
Noticing the women had quickly ran dry of information about the mysterious redhead, Kanda got up from the red plush seat, leaving money in the table for the drinks and their 'attention'. One thing he had been instructed to was not to be too tightfisted with payment, as he should be classified as a normal patron and avoid unwanted attention. Marching towards the exit in what he refused to acknowledge as running away, he left the dingy and colorful establishment and resumed his walk in the red tinged streets.
Though the initial instructions of exploring the shadiest places of the city had been initially taken with scorn, he had to admit they were accurate; this man had to have been in each bar, brothel and casino Kanda set foot into. After what most would classify as a night of fun but he considered very hard work, he returned to the small room they had rented, worried about the many stares following him. He usually didn't attract this sort of attention; it was dangerous.
As soon as the woman set eyes upon his lipstick stained, messy haired, stinking person, she cringed apologetically. "Sorry for that, Kanda. Ah... it's just, they wouldn't reveal as much to a girl."
Kanda just grumbled under his breath and removed his outer clothes. Miranda squealed, quickly turning away with mumbled apologies. Weird, he thought, before going to the shower in order to remove any remains of today's horrible ordeal.
When he returned, a towel circling his waist and troublesome hair wet and tangled, the woman was still turned to the wall and hunched on herself, and he wondered what the hell was her problem. From the recesses of his clueless mind, a voice said he was probably acting indecently towards the female, but he disdained the thought. She had been resting in this room while he dealt with all that shit.
"What do we do now?" he grumbled, wondering whether she wanted to sleep or go on with the final part of their assignment. Kanda wanted to do it by himself, but Allen had to have called her for some reason other than wishing him luck from afar.
She turned a head of wavy hair as dark as his own, shoulders sagging in relief once she saw he had already dressed. "W-we better do it all tonight, Kanda. It is not wise to stay inside this city for longer than we have to."
"Agreed. Are you coming?" she nodded vehemently at that, and they gathered their meager possessions and left the establishment.
Apparently, the Order had also been looking for the outlandish, womanizing exorcist. He was their General, but acted more like an escapee. At the very least this eased his worries about finding a powerful ally of the Order; he couldn't be too loyal to them if he disobeyed their commands like this. Because of that constant pursue, the Order had to have some sort of information about Cross Marian and, according to Allen, it was all bound to be in a small office in the northeastern part of the city.
The one probably filled with security and Crow, because life could never be easy, could it?
Still eyeing the woman by his side doubtfully, he continued approaching the office warily. He would usually have done this with greater ease, but there was someone weaker and slower than him by his side to consider.
To his surprise, she walked towards a small but strongly locked back door. "Do you have a key or what?" he asked as she eyed him in expectation.
"How could I? Please break it, Kanda," said she simply.
His eye twitched in annoyance. "Are you insane? They will know we have invaded, stupid!"
Miranda's mouth tightened, whether in annoyance or hurt he didn't know, but while he didn't want to antagonize her, it wasn't easy when she made such a ridiculous suggestion. "I can repair it. Please, Kanda," she said in politeness that didn't match his own discourtesy.
Seeing as she seemed sure of that, he easily broke the iron padlock inside his clenched fist. She stared at it with wide eyes and as she glanced to the sword in his back, he understood she had expected him to tear things with his weapon.
Kanda opened the door and they passed through. He raised an eyebrow in expectancy, and she easily revealed her Innocence clad wrist. With a weak activation, Kanda watched as the padlock pieces in the floor floated back in place, quickly securing the heavy chains once more as if nothing had happened.
"Let's go," she said, and he followed her in the dark corridor, absorbing this new information.
Through careful avoidance of guards that fortunately weren't Crow, they found themselves in the coveted office, a rich room filled with comfort and clearly inhabited. Lighting a few candles, they explored it, until he found the coffer below the desk. At least this politician didn't bother to uselessly hide it below a painting or the carpet, he thought, before staring at the woman in askance. She nodded, and he proceeded to also force the coffer open. It was made of sturdier material and he actually had to use a lot of force, but it eventually gave under his enhanced strength. It was only fortunate this place wasn't equipped with seals and magical wards against which muscle had no effect.
The coffer was filled with papers, and they started sorting through them with practice. From city reports to unimportant files they didn't care about, they eventually gathered everything that had to do with Cross Marian.
"We've been here long enough. I don't know how we haven't been caught yet," said Kanda in alarm, standing up. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed in horror, as the insane woman proceeded to pour oil over the remaining files, and then the wooden furniture and rich carpet. "Hey!" he grabbed her hand in order to halt her actions. "Stop this, we need to go. Now."
"Just trust me for once. Allen always likes us to leave some destruction before leaving if we can," she explained, lighting a match and setting the table on fire. It quickly ran, fueled by the inflammable liquid, the flames starting to consume everything, and he pushed back a memory of Tiedoll shouting at Kanda's similar destruction of his kitchen years ago.
"They are going to see this," he snarled, but she activated her Innocence, and everything went back to normal, even the coffer, now perfectly repaired and locked.
"I can explain later. I thought you were in a hurry?" she asked in nervousness, before hurrying away. Kanda cast a confused glance at the now untouched room – even the candles were repaired and the oil magically returned back to its lamps – before hurrying after her.
They made it about a hundred meters away from the office, before they ran out of luck and the bright light of a lantern hit their fleeing forms.
"Who's there?" called a patrolling guard far away, and it was clear he wasn't alone. Kanda's mind ran with the possibilities. If they were simple people with common weapons, the two exorcists could easily incapacitate them. That was it – before they could raise any sort of alarm, he would –
He felt a strange, tingling sensation flow over his body. It surprised him and, for a moment, he thought he was under a Crow's spell, before he noticed Miranda's Innocence activated and discreetly pointed towards him.
"Act properly," she whispered in his ear, before the men finally got to them. The strong lights were disturbing and it was difficult not to react against the dangerous attention.
"What are you two doing here?" asked one of the uniformed men who had some sort of device in his hand. Kanda eyed it warily.
"Ah, mister, I'm so sorry. Brother lost control today. Ah, please, brother, try to come with me, alright? I know it should be difficult in your state-"
What?
It was then Kanda realized what had changed about him: his shower gone, he was back to the state he was in after the dreadful walk through bars and brothels. Though his clothes were still fresh, his hair was the same disgusting mess, he stank of alcohol and could also feel the revolting lipstick stains against his skin.
"A drunkard, huh?" snorted another patroller with disdain, and Miranda let out a distressed sob. Trying to play his part, Kanda fell to his knees, and Miranda hurried to help him.
"You should be ashamed, young man! Giving your poor sister such trouble! Lady, let us help you bring this guy back to your home. Or perhaps he could spend a day in jail. Would do good for his character, I think."
Kanda tensed. This would be no good. Before he could do anything, however, he heard screams coming from the building they had just left.
"Fire! Get some water!"
"Security!"
There it was. From this distance, he could see the flames destroying the room they had been at just minutes ago, likely under the fire Miranda had set and then stopped. No matter how strange the whole situation was, it was with relief that he saw the guards quickly forget them and run towards the calls for help.
"How-"
"My Innocence. I think we should leave this city right now."
And it was through both the path they had already created through the wall and the lack or proper patrol created by the fire in the city's main building that they got out, and found part of the group outside. They ran towards the embracing arms of the vegetation that always hid them so well.
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"She has quite an interesting Innocence, doesn't she?" asked Allen with a smile the other day, once they met in an old room that was the best looking part of the ruined house they had invaded.
"You could have explained it before. I was lost during most of that infiltration," grumbled Kanda, handing Allen the papers Miranda and he had found before turning to the instantaneous soup Allen had just prepared for him.
"Time Record... she can't take people back in time, forcing them to relive their actions, but she can restore things to their original state up to a point. She used to activate her Innocence in order to keep us healthy in fights and temporarily repair structures, but we also learned the appeal of purposefully destroying and then repairing things, only to watch them fall apart later. Like ruining a bridge, mending it, letting the enemy run over it and then deactivating the hold in time, making everyone fall. Cool, huh?"
"'Cool', alright," Kanda admitted, surprised at how useful the woman could be. She did seem pretty strained afterwards, so he guessed using her ability to secretly ruin the bases of the Order's sturdier buildings was out of consideration.
He also handed Allen the money bag he had been lent, and Allen laughed. "Ha! I knew you were the right person to send. The others would never have returned with quite as much. You are a stingy client."
"I haven't enjoyed myself," growled Kanda, but it was now obvious Allen's insinuation had been a mere jest.
"Thank you so much, Kanda. Now I am one step closer to finding this son of a bitch."
Kanda's spoon almost missed his mouth at the rare expletive that left the usually polite boy's mouth. This Cross had to be special in order to elicit such a reaction. Not saying anything else, he watched as Allen, strangely enough, started setting random objects in the floor, before sitting on it.
"It's that time of the day," said Allen lightly, "I guess I won't be any good company for an hour or so."
"I'll just watch," said Kanda, and this wouldn't be the first time he stared at Allen's nightly dive to his past. He sat on a chair and allowed the boy to slowly close his eyes and meditate, with a furrowed brow. Perhaps today he could ask Allen for a certain something.
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He had been getting more and more acquainted with this person as time passed. Always covered by refined, noble clothing, hands gloved in white. Always guiding his movements and showing him how he should proceed. His features, however, insisted on being obscured by a shadow he knew didn't exist in the memory. So he accepted this mysterious tutor, the one without a face and a name.
His adult hands held Allen's smaller, younger ones. They guided him through an exercise. Allen had been a semi analphabet when he worked at the circus, being able to read no more than the very basics. Once put under the Black Order's command, he started studying more, as they didn't want an illiterate Exorcist. Still, his writing was shaky and he had to carefully draw and redraw each symbol, one more complicated than the other and always frustratingly different from the originals he was trying to imitate.
"I'm sorry," said Allen, after making a mistake for the third time. A wrong stroke would nullify the whole effect of the work, or, in the worst possibility, warp it and become destructive. "This ink is very expensive, isn't it? I... I will try to get it right next time."
"Don't worry about it," said that soothing voice he was becoming increasingly fond of. "I have resources. Just do your very best."
And so he continued, stroke after stroke, careful of the order, the curves, the space needed away from each border, the thickness of this part and thinness of this other. Hours went like this, and the work became more and more like the original. He was almost there...
The world around him started warping. His instructors' soft words also distorted into something barely intelligible. Allen forced himself to focus. He was almost there...
"I... I think I did it," said Allen with certain trepidation, looking at the carefully drawn scripts. "Am I right?"
"That's right, Allen, you did very well. I'm sorry to put you through this, but an enchantment always has more power when its cards have been created by the one who casts them. This one will be useful to temporarily force Akuma down. Anything with dark matter, actually. Now-"
Everything twisted once more, and this was it. He had held for too long, and was at his limit, but at least he got to his objective. Letting go of his hold over the memory, he watched as it fell apart and he was pulled back to the present in the usual nauseating experience.
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Kanda watched, enraptured, as the other exorcist went through his nightly ritual. The oil lamp accentuated the boy's paleness, only increased by his usual choice of equally white night clothes. Sitting with legs crossed as the only light element in the dingy room, Allen was quite an ethereal sight.
This time, however, he had a brush in his hand. Close to him was an ink bottle filled with black ink, and scattered white paper. Allen's eyes started moving quickly below his closed eyelids, a sign that whatever he was seeing was coming to an end. The hand with the dripping brush was slowly raised before being placed carefully over the paper. The eyes opened partially, only a sliver of white and silver being seen through thick lashes, as Allen remained in his trance, mostly unmoving.
Then, with a jerk, his right hand started working furiously, as if possessed. It started scribbling in a mad frenzy over the paper, too fast but also too precise; complex symbols that clearly held important meaning were quickly written in front of him, though Kanda didn't understand them, as they didn't seem related to either the Japanese or the English language. Allen's work went on, only stopping for quick dips in the ink pot. Eventually, he ran out of paper, and Kanda quickly supplied him with more, lest the boy started writing over the dirty floor. This went on for twenty more seconds or so, before the brush finally stopped and was eventually dropped. Allen's shoulders sagged and his head lowered, before he looked up once more, eyes now open and aware of his surroundings.
"Took you long enough," said Kanda as a means of greeting.
"Ah, Yuu," said Allen weakly, accepting a cup of cold water. "Yes, this time I had to stay for as long as I could."
"Did you learn anything useful?" asked Kanda, looking at the scattered paper, but not touching it. Not that trying to sort it would make any difference for him.
"Yes, very likely. Remember that teacher I mentioned to you? Today I found a memory where he was tutoring me on spells. The magic now wielded by the Crow and a few privileged Order guards."
Kanda was impressed. "So that's what this is?"
"I hope so. Teacher told me it is an useful binding spell. I have yet to learn the words, but I got a good grip on this memory, and he used to teach me things monthly, when we could hide during my missions and create an excuse... I think I can call forth the next meeting, when he will teach me how to use these," said Allen, clearly happy with today's work.
"Good for you. Private classes, inside this very room."
Allen chuckled, before going to his cot and dropping in the customary exhaustion he presented before going to sleep. "Guess so. These are my way to learn safely, though they can be quite troublesome."
"You are always complaining about them."
"They have their downsides," said Allen, seeming very sure of his words.
"Like what?"
Allen was now spreading his limbs on the bed, covering the whole surface. "Um, they are annoying, confusing and give me headaches. And sometimes I'm forced to see really boring stuff."
Kanda didn't answer. He was used to these silly complaints, but he was sure there was more to it. This was someone used to great pain, both emotional and physical; no way he would be so cross because of such small troubles. Kanda's thoughts became troubled. Would he say it tonight, or should he wait for a while? For the life of him, he couldn't understand his own reluctance, but there it was.
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"Yuu?" called Allen, noticing his friend had fallen silent. That wasn't really unusual. Though they had much to talk about, Yuu had clearly remained more of a quiet person. It was usually pleasant for them to share the same place, even while silent. They would always have things to share, and quiet companionship was one of them.
This time, however, it didn't feel quite like that. It seemed a bit uncomfortable, that kind of quietness that just begged to be broken. "Yuu?" called Allen once again, noticing the man, still sitting on a corner of the room, hadn't really heard him.
It was a little disturbing.
"What is it?" said the Japanese finally, to the white haired boy's relief.
"What are you thinking about?"
The long haired man looked as if he was going to say something, but he just shook his head, as if giving up. He got up, starting to walk towards the unhinged door. "Nothing. Just go to sleep. You look dead on your feet."
Allen frowned. No way; he wouldn't be able to sleep, not now that he had this new, although small, worry in his mind. "Yuu, stay here. What is it that you were just thinking about?" insisted Allen.
"Go to sleep, beansprout! I'm going to watch the surroundings," grumbled the annoyed man.
"Miranda is doing that. We are going to talk now, you grouchy, secretive man," insisted Allen, jumping from the cot and quickly reaching Yuu and grabbing the man by his shoulder. "Come on!"
Still frustratingly uncooperative, Yuu grabbed Allen's arms instead, dragging the man back to the cot and shoving him there. "Listen to your older brother for once. There is no way we are going to have a decent conversation with those huge dark circles under your eyes."
"Hah! Older brother? Considering my past, I'm older than you. Thrice your age actually, otouto," said Allen with a mocking smile. He expected a snarky retort, something that would return their usual vibe. Instead, Yuu wore a troubled frown, and his grip on Allen slackened. "Yuu?" asked Allen, any playfulness now gone.
The taller man finally gave up, sitting on the cot. Allen did the same, sitting by his side until their arms touched in that familiar way, his eyes never leaving the other's. "Seriously. What is it?"
Yuu closed his eyes and fell into thought, before finally opening them and showing impressive determination. "I also want to recall my past."
That phrase was so simple, to easy to understand, but it still made Allen flinch. "I... I see," murmured he finally, because he didn't know what else to say.
"It is only natural. I also want to have the advantage you do, to recall anything that might be handy. I was an exorcist before, too; there must be some knowledge of mine that could be useful."
"Perhaps," said Allen with hesitation, not wanting to bother his friend.
"So, I'm going to ask for your help in doing it. You already have your own methods. I understand your memories are much more forthcoming than mine, but any small recollection will do. I have to start somewhere."
"Okay."
"Not today, though. I was serious when I said you need some sleep. But can we start tomorrow? I understand our stay here will last a few days."
Allen laughed weakly. "So... so soon?"
Yuu frowned. "Of course. What of it?"
There was nothing of it, really. Actually, the other man was right. This was a good chance to start; they had found some temporary stability here in this town. Starting any later would mean doing the process on a much more dangerous environment.
But he knew the time wasn't the reason, and nor was the place. No, there was other reason. One in the form of a presence always in the back of his head.
"Allen? Snap out of it. What do you say? We start tomorrow?"
A presence that he initially thought of as a mere impression, an illusion. But it was there, growing each day. And while he had always wanted to get as close to Allen Walker as possible, there was also a certain trepidation. More than that, there was an instinctual fear for his life.
"Answer me, you annoying sprout. What are you daydreaming about? Allen?"
Because that presence grew more and more, and really, that was insane, because that was him; he was Allen Walker. He had to be. But the recurrent sense of danger was suffocating. A part of him wanted to repress that presence and any memories that came with it, because they felt like a trap-
A blow to the back of his head stopped his contemplations. Allen rubbed the sore spot, staring in surprise at the fuming samurai whose fist was still raised, promising more punishment.
"You annoying bastard! I will make you listen to me!"
"Calm down, Yuu!" exclaimed Allen, standing up and raising his hands in a peacemaking gesture. Yuu also got to his feet, seeming furious. Really, that anger was unusual – or, at least, it wasn't usually directed towards him. It was quite frightening, very different from the usual and admittedly amusing moodiness of the other exorcist.
"Don't ask me to calm down when you are ignoring me! Why is it that you don't want to help?"
"It's not that I don't want to. It is not," Allen said quickly, trying to calm the other down. "I-it's just- ah, give me a moment, I need to think," said he sincerely. Even when backed to a corner, Allen would usually find a convincing excuse to earn him time against his verbal sparring adversaries. But he wouldn't fall so low as to act the same way with Yuu.
Not that the man could understand how Allen felt. "Think about what? Is there anything unreasonable in my request?"
"There's no-"
"Every night you get to do it. To close your eyes and dive into your past, rebuilding yourself, recovering your history. That is what I want to do, also. I've always seen my past as something untouchable. Perhaps it is. But I want to try," said Yuu, seeming to feel more determined than Allen ever thought he could have been about the subject. "Your memories used to appear without your consent... they were out of your control. Now, they are bent to your will. Surely you can help me with something, damn it!"
"Yes, I can. It is just... there are consequences, Yuu." You could develop an insane sense of two selves, and have them fight inside your heart and mind day after day.
"Consequences, huh? I heard about them already. Headaches, tiredness and nausea, yes? You think I can't deal with these? You insult me," he snarled.
"There is more... ah, forget it," said Allen in frustration. Acknowledging this problem will only make it worse. I am Allen Walker. I've got to get it through my head. Talking about my internal conflict will only make him think I am insane.
Yuu already worried about Allen's physical health. It would be unbearable to have him also worrying about his mind. The man would probably want to lock him down in an mental hospital, if such a thing existed for exiles.
The unexpected sound of steps startled him. "Enough," snarled Yuu in glaring, cold anger. Anger Allen was scared of and hated having directed towards him. "I see you don't want to do it."
The white haired boy shook himself out of his stupor. No, staying silent and allowing him to leave would do no good. For the first time, he was truly worried that something could cause a dent on their friendship. Decided, he strode firmly towards Yuu's back and did the only thing he knew would make him stop his retreat.
It worked; Yuu's body froze once circled by Allen's arms. The mismatched hands joined over his abdomen, and Allen rested his face on the comforting back, turning his nose away from long, ticklish hair.
"I will help you," stated Allen calmly in the newfound silence and peace. "I promise. From tomorrow onwards."
He felt Yuu deflate, but not in a bad way. No, that was just the anger and frustration seeping away from his body. "I... just want to recover my past. The same way you do."
No, it is not the same, thought Allen. If I could stop watching my past... if I could stop gathering the pieces... I would. I do this because I have to.
"It's just as you say," revealed Yuu, "I am but a child. Compared to you... I am nothing. Hell, even the eyepatched airhead has lived and experienced far more than me. I feel crippled. And, it is more than merely gathering information. I... just want to know."
Allen let the knowledge sink in, finding it a little disturbing, but also enlightening. Yes, it was obvious that this was what a normal person would want to do. Yuu had his whole life stolen by the Order, and it was his right to get it back… or, at least, know what it had been like. Who was Allen to say he couldn't? He had no right to think Yuu would have the same problems he did, the same limitations. Yuu wasn't as unbalanced as he was, and likely didn't have such an insane and troublesome past.
"Then let's do it," whispered Allen, tightening his arms around his most important person. "Let's do it together."
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Inside Vatican, the enormous tower buzzed with movement. It was quite intricate and decorated by extravagant designs that provided it with a beautiful yet fearsome appearance, while sinning in practicality and defense. But then again, it had been built during the time the church had the greatest control over the Order as a whole and, to it, looks were as important as power. In the past years, the great building had been improved with many quality devices that raised an insider's ability to defend and attack from it, and it also counted with the help of some of the best exorcists, scientists and Crow that the Order had at its disposal, while retaining that old religious look that made more than a few tremble.
The war had stained the church with an image of violence and menace that it wouldn't be able to get rid with chants and praises to God.
Most members inside the tower were living a day as normal as any and wouldn't be able to guess anything was wrong. Inside of the conference room few had the clearance to enter a meeting among the highest ranking members of the Order happened, hidden from prying ears and eyes with security provided by trusted personnel. It should be perfect, but it is said that every large group is bound to have one or more traitors.
This one was no exception.
The discussion had been happening for hours. No one dared to leave the room, the thick tension that permeated the air compared only to that of the rare instances where the Earl himself attacked the once religious group.
In the middle of it all, the mentioned traitor that was sure to exist carefully memorized each and every word said by the Black Order leaders, while thinking of the implications and calculating the damage.
Oh, the damage. It seemed immensurable, and he could only hope he would be able to control it, even if just a little.
Allen Walker, what are you doing?
It was interesting that so many leaders could be reunited with the purpose of deciding on a course of action, yet no move was made in so much time. The worry in everyone's minds wouldn't allow them to reach an agreement, as any suggestion offered by any member would be seen by the others as a possible ploy. The greatest human organization in the world couldn't exist without the constant worry of being infiltrated by the enemy, whose powers they had yet to fully understand.
The good part, if he could say there was any, was that they weren't suspecting him; No, he, who was a powerful leader on his own, remained seen as a nothing by those supposedly more influential figures, who only allowed him at the meeting because they needed someone to represent his province.
"The accusations you make are quite serious, Inspector Leverrier. I hope you realize that a mistake on such an important matter could result in your permanent... termination from the Black Order."
Ah, death threats. They don't usually fall so low towards their own personnel. This one must be truly unhinged. "I merely report what I know as true. The conclusions you make with my information are of your own responsibility, esteemed General."
And of course this man wouldn't like accusations towards another General, simply because that showed that someone holding the position didn't mean they deserved absolute trust. This would hurt him, to an extent. Sometimes he thought the Order could have won the war long ago if it wasn't composed by leaders who thought first and foremost about themselves before considering how their actions would affect the organization as a whole.
The story of the Order went so many hundreds of years back, to a time when humanity didn't enjoy even a tenth of the progress it had achieved now but already fought against the likes of the Earl and his damned family. Then it changed when an internal conflict between the Noah weakened the evil clansmen temporarily and, afterwards, with the birth of Allen Walker. The next important moment occurred with his death, that gladdened the Black Order, but it was foolish of them to be so happy, as Walker had also been a powerful enemy of the Earl's.
And then story was marked once more with the rebirth and escape of a certain exorcist from the broken Asian laboratory number six, though that day had been considered as nothing more than the loss of an important project and brilliant minds.
Until now, that is.
"Ever since I was a lad and heard about Allen's Walker death, I've had the misfortune of listening of the pathetic whispering of hopeful followers who tried to spread that he was back. More than once, exorcists and even civilians would try to impersonate him, to no avail, of course. I had hoped such ridiculous play would be limited towards those senseless people, but to see it in the Black Order is very disheartening."
"Allen Walker has always had supporters everywhere. It doesn't surprise me they can also be found in the Black Order," said another disdainful voice.
Leverrier sneered internally at the two commanders who had spoken. They liked to speak of others' foolishness, while the Order was sabotaged under their very noses.
Then again, their idiocy has only been fortunate for him, until now.
"Considering it was the Black Order that revived Walker," said the black haired man who Leverrier suspected enjoyed a much higher intellect than the previous speakers, "What I find disheartening is to see everyone here so adamant to deny his existence now, the same way our predecessors made the mistake of believing he was no threat until he had thousands under his control."
"What are you saying about Walker being revived? People cannot just-"
"This was a secret project conducted in the laboratory in Japan, whose destruction you all have heard of already," clarified Leverrier, because if he didn't speak others would, and being too silent would only make him a suspect. "The reduced number of Innocence Accommodators has been a crisis for almost a hundred years, already. The only solution found by the Order was to create or revive their own exorcists."
When none of the higher ranks denied his admittedly unbelievable words, the room explode in arguments.
"Reviving? How could you?"
"I heard about forced synchronization, but rebirth-"
"-chose Allen Walker?"
"You can actually bring back the dead?"
Ah, finally, that anticipated question. The one that was made one half of morbid curiosity and one half of the immediate greed that would awaken in any human at the possibility of rebirth. He could already hear the wheels turning in their little minds, screaming words about power, revival and immortality.
"We cannot, actually," said Renny Epstain, one of the few who had clearance to follow the proceedings in Japan. "Not anymore. And the procedure had great limitations. You would need a freshly harvested brain from the deceased Exorcist, which means they couldn't have died from a severe head wound. The brains would need to be put inside synthetically created bodies, for any natural human one would result in instantaneous rejection. Even then, the procedure has been done with dozens of exorcists, and only three awakened after so many years of work."
Noticing everyone's attention on her, she continued. "Those who awakened went through the same forced synchronization process we perform on relatives of exorcists who passed away. The first one, Alma, synchronized moments before his death. That made him useless to the cause, but created expectations to the one still alive, Yuu. And little time after that, a third Apostle awakened, giving us new hope: Allen."
"Allen Walker?!" shouted an indignant young man. "But how-"
"For goodness' sake," growled Leverrier impatiently, "you've all been prepared to hear this. Save your indignant shrieks for later. Please continue, madam."
"Thank you, inspector. Yes, that was Allen Walker. Do understand, however, that part of the procedure was to erase the Apostles' memories of their past lives. That was the best way to ensure them to be loyal and molded to the Order's standards, shielded away from the world as they were. Walker should have been nothing more than a child, though a powerful one."
One of the leaders raised his hand politely before speaking when she nodded. "What I don't understand is your mention of years of synchronization attempts. As we all know, one failure is enough to have the Innocence attack and kill the rejected Accommodator. How would you manage to keep them alive for so long?"
"The Chang family is responsible for that. They have always produced the best scientists for the Order, ever since the 1400s. Their seal of healing allowed the Apostles to take deadly damage many times, thanks to the fast recovery rate. The synthetic bodies were also made in order to be much stronger and faster than that of the average person's."
"A seal of healing... how come other... exorcists do not have that?" said an elderly man, the same one who had exclaimed about the possibility of resurrection. Someone was clearly thirsty to live longer than was his due, thought Leverrier sourly.
"The synthetic bodies were made to withstand it, sir," murmured a short, young blond teenager who sat in one of the most distanced chairs. "Normal bodies will reap no effects from them."
"Bak Chan!" exclaimed Louis Fermi, smiling like a predator. "How come I have not noticed a member from the very family we are speaking about?"
"Well, if the youngest Chan is here, I guess he can help clearing many of our doubts."
"I'm not the youngest, I'm the last one," said Bak with his strong Chinese accent. "And due to my great involvement with the Black Order, my family has never informed me of much but the basics. I have always been seen as somewhat of an outsider who shared their blood."
Leverrier doubted that very much. The Chan family had been a very powerful and influential group that aided the Black Order while charging it expensively. More than that, they had been its co-founders centuries ago. Guarding their secret techniques like the treasures they were, they made sure the Order would always depend on them for most of its medical and weapon related advancements. Their strong sense of duty towards family wouldn't allow them to exclude young Bak who, despite his young age, was hailed as a genius.
But it the boy didn't want to cooperate with the Order, it was better for him, Leverrier thought with an inward smile, while storing this information for later perusal in the recesses of his mind. Bak Chan had the potential of becoming an important ally, and the boy was clearly shaken by the loss of his parents and great-grandfather at the laboratory incident.
It was obvious the group wanted to ask more about the seal of healing and the resurrection procedures, but held their tongues for now. Bak was questioned for a few minutes but, clearly, nothing of useful was going to come out of the boy's mouth for today. In the end, there was only one conclusion everyone could reach.
The reluctance in their hearts was great, but they had been preparing themselves for this ever since the first signals started to appear.
"It seems like our paranoid little friends were right," said Morris with a smirk, though it clearly stank with anger. "The Second Exorcist project was a mistake, and it is very likely that Allen Walker is alive."
"Yes," agreed Epstain, before surprising most in the room with her next words, Leverrier included. "But he isn't the only Apostle we need to worry about... and, perhaps, Walker isn't even the most important."
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A/N: Happy New Year!