Naou: I'm happy you like it! One of this story's weak points is my poor English and I certainly hope to go and correct everything when I'm feeling more sure of my abilities. The story's different setting also allows me to justify a relationship between Allen and Kanda that would have been hard to build otherwise. As for the points you are curious about, hopefully I'll be able to fit them in the plot.
A/N: Thanks a lot for the reviews.
Synthetic Soldiers
Capítulo 17 – Inimigo intocável
·÷±‡±±‡±÷·
Kanda didn't know for how long he stood there, unmoving, eyes still glued to the discreet cut he'd made in Allen's tent. There was a chance he could be caught spying, either by a member of the group or by Allen himself, but it mattered little to him right now.
Today had changed everything.
Never before he had thought he would prefer the idea of a mentally sick Allen, but it seemed less dire than the reality that had presented itself. He had assumed things couldn't get any worse than they had been, had expected the truth to be the way towards a solution… now that he knew it, however, there was no sense of relief, only a worry even worse than the already great one he had been carrying ever since things started falling apart.
How had Allen managed to endure this all by himself, and for how long?
He observed the boy's back, heavy with defeat and anxiety. Allen's countenance was very much a reflex of Kanda's own and the Japanese knew, right now, that the one he was looking at right now was his Allen.
But… for how long would he be able to make sure of that?
Kanda had grown in a world where swinging his blade had been his way to survival. Yes, there was intelligence and cunning involved in staying alive, whenever he infiltrated a city, spoke to one of his contacts in order to arrange his trades or traced the correct paths. But that had always been a small part of the whole picture. Mostly, his day to day was filled with unceasing violence. No matter how smart and crafty you could be, there were times when raw strength, speed and instinct would be demanded in order not to become prey to Akuma, Order officials or exiles alike. Kanda, as a master of his sword, had been able to excel and endure for a time far longer than one would expect from a lone traveler.
Now, for the first time, he was confronted by a new kind of fight – probably the most important one of his life – but Mugen remained deactivated, unable to aid him in winning it.
What good would it do to unsheathe his weapon, when destroying the enemy also meant killing the one you wanted to protect?
What in the world would he do now, and how long before it was too late?
·÷±‡±±‡±÷·
And despite all that time passes, indifferent to people's hopes and sorrows.
·÷±‡±±‡±÷·
Three months later
Gloved fingers tied the remaining package closed, before placing it in the very last free space in the large pack. Closing it, the white haired boy placed it over his back and turned to the others.
"Let's go," said he, instead of the usual 'is everyone ready?' that would possibly be followed by someone who couldn't quite finish their packing and a collective and somewhat humorous effort to fit everything inside. Everybody was, indeed, ready to go; it was like the past months had imposed an efficiency they didn't have before.
Still, some things didn't change.
"Er, Allen," said Laboun, in reluctance that used to be uncharacteristic of him, "Lenalee and Miranda, they haven't-"
"I'm quite aware they are late," Allen cut the other man's speech, "but it won't do to dawdle in the area any more. We have planned meeting points; hopefully, they will find us soon."
No one said anything else, and it was for the best.
Three months ago, after Allen's very last mental crisis, the shorter exorcist had been initially filled by a great insecurity that stopped everyone in their tracks. Kanda had expected such a thing to happen, hardly imagining the boy would be able to continue leading a group in this awful world while under such a great strain. But day after day, and week after week, despite Kanda's attempts to try to keep him from the others and find a way to stall their progress without causing much damage, Allen's attitude started changing dramatically. In less than a month, the boy was filled by a conviction unseen in him before, and he started driving the group in their work with a ruthlessness that had been unexpected and, for a while, received with mixed reactions.
That night months ago, after watching the projection, Kanda had initially wanted to barge in the tent and try to soothe the boy somehow, but felt a strong hesitation. That message had been the proof of his newly found fears, the menace behind it tangible and ominous. Even as he stood in front of the entrance, he hadn't known what to do. Allen was being threatened by his past self who, for some reason, wasn't the same person as the white haired boy he knew. And though Kanda still needed some time to process what in the world was happening, the fact was that he simply didn't know what to do.
They started their travel, not as fast as enhanced bodies could manage, but quickly enough so as to strain everyone to a point. Kanda made sure to march in his usual spot by Allen's side, even if being in that place was becoming harder as of late. The boy who initially had isolated himself inside his tent after some time started interacting with others again, and then grew in sureness and resolve and started changing everyone's dynamics; that newfound independency also meant he became much harder to accompany, and it was now impossible to watch his every step.
Despite any discontentment, however, it was obvious Allen had been producing more results than ever in his quest. Plans had been traced, not merely to stay alive or stop the Order from progressing any more, but now also to actively destroy it in a future that seemed nearby. Allen had now a determination in his eyes that was so strong that, despite tiredness and fear, everyone in the group obeyed him wholeheartedly. The boy wasn't by any means rude, but the warmth of before had given way to an impersonal way to deal with others and yet, notwithstanding the receding friendliness, he brought a certain sense of purpose to everyone… or rather, he made their purpose stronger than ever.
"It is because we have never felt safe, to start with," clarified Reed two weeks ago, when asked by Laboun about everyone's determination and effort. Laboun had initially felt slightly unsettled by the stricter demands from their leader and the absence of the amiable allowances of before. "We already live in paranoia and fear of death, ever since becoming exorcists. So if we have to live this way, it is better if we at least have hopes of a better future… if we see the fruits of our labor faster. I have friends who did everything they could for me, even after discovering I had an anti Akuma weapon. If they sold my location to the Order, they would have been rewarded very generously. Instead, not only they kept my secret, but also did everything they could to protect me." He seemed saddened by the memories, and poked the fire with a stick, releasing it when it started being consumed by the flames. "I don't know where they are, and the possibilities of what they could have gone through after I left are dire. Winning this war… is the least I owe them."
"Allen has always been our hope," Miranda had said then, also staring unflinchingly at the bright flames. "If he found a way to end this hell, then we will do whatever we can to help."
That night the whole group, sans Allen, sat to eat and talk about what motivated them until now. It was likely a way to maintain their strength of mind, and everyone but Kanda spoke about their motives and why they were now more optimistic than ever, despite the newfound hardships. Kanda had been the only one to just listen and stay silent, and no one questioned him. It was likely because he was the one who had shown himself the closest to Allen and also the one the boy most trusted.
Or at least, had trusted. As of now, it was difficult to say; they had grown distant, even if appearances showed otherwise. And for the life of him, Kanda couldn't say whether the one he now lived with was his Allen or not.
For a long time he hadn't known, for sure, the identity of the one lurking behind silver eyes. Instinct and familiarity told him his Allen had been fading in the same proportion that the confidence in the boy had grown… but he tried not to fall for mere assumptions.
It wasn't to say Kanda hadn't interacted with Allen. Not once had the boy tried to avoid him, always ever so friendly and apparently open, more than he would be to anyone else. But that could very well be a pretense, and Kanda found himself stuck in paranoia. Every gesture, every single word poisoned him with doubt. The uncertainty on whether Allen was himself or not tormented Kanda day and night: he couldn't say a single sentence to the boy without having it carefully calculated… and he feared the shorter exorcist was acting the same way towards him.
Kanda had never spoken of what happened that horrible day, not after what he saw in the tent. The memory was fresh, the worry new and still growing, and the urge to take Allen to a side and speak frankly to him was too great. There was so much to say. Kanda wanted to tell him he was aware of the problem, that solving it would become his life's mission; he wanted to formulate a plan with Allen, to try somehow to make progress out of this ordeal together with him. More than everything, he wanted to have a frank conversation with Allen, the first one in three long months, but…
…he simply couldn't. When enemy and friend inhabited the same body, what could he do? What if it wasn't Allen looking at him, listening to him and speaking to him, but that other Allen, the very one Kanda was planning against?
It is impossible to be open when you don't know who you are talking to.
·÷±‡±±‡±÷·
"Rabbit."
The redhead stopped writing in that mysterious book of his, one he always carried around and wrote in but that seemed to never run out of pages.
"Yuu?"
Lavi had known him long enough to know Kanda wanted to be called by his last name, and obviously expected an angry reaction in that amused, infuriating way of his. His body was already tensed, ready to jump at the slightest sign of violence.
But Kanda, for the first time, didn't have the energy to attack or even rebuke the insufferable exorcist; instead, he went direct to the point.
"I need a favor from you," he declared. Lavi raised an eyebrow, and Kanda decided he didn't like the way he had sounded. "Scratch that. It is a favor for Allen. He is going to be the one benefitting from it, after all."
That seemed to get the other's attention; his body relaxed and he leaned back in ease. "What is it, then?"
"Have you ever heard about Froi Tiedoll?"
Lavi chuckled. "Well, of course. He is a general, no? Never saw him, though. I don't fancy them, the Generals. Could cut us in tiny bits without much effort, really."
"That's right," said Kanda, without preamble, "and I want you to contact him."
The redhead didn't answer for a while, staring at him with one incredulous green eye. "Huh, man," he said then, seeing as Kanda wasn't about to take his words back, "did you hear even a word of what I just said?"
"Tiedoll won't kill you," snarled Kanda with impatience, "he's not violent-"
"I'm a fugitive, and he's a general-"
"He doesn't care!" exclaimed Kanda, knowing Lavi was his only chance. It was either the hammer wielding exorcist or himself, but Kanda couldn't leave Allen alone, not for so long. Lavi even had a better chance than him, with his extensive contacts and knowledge. Kanda hadn't contacted Tiedoll all these years for a reason; it was an almost impossible thing to do, and would likely result in death or a lifetime sentence in prison – for him or for them both.
And now, Kanda needed to convince the rabbit to go and do what he hadn't been able to by himself.
Lavi seemed uncharacteristically skeptical. It was strange, seeing that face that was usually distorted into those abhorrent smiles now displaying a certain degree of calculation.
"How would you know?" asked the boy finally. "You are best friends with the old man or something?"
Kanda realized, in that moment, that Lavi wasn't making a joke. In his words there was true speculation, and Kanda would have demanded the reason if he didn't have more pressing worries to deal with.
"I know him… very well," admitted Kanda and, seeing as Lavi wasn't saying anything, he clenched his teeth. "He… he has stayed with me for a while, years ago." No good. He shouldn't be saying anything about Tiedoll. Should this cause the man any trouble, he'd never be able to pay for this treason… but the need for the blasted boy's cooperation was too great, and he was willing to risk everything.
Even the general, he thought, bitter but accepting of the fact; the other option was to leave Allen unattended and that, in the end, was never a choice.
Lavi chuckled and in that moment Kanda would admit, if only to himself, that the boy looked a little sinister.
"So that's what he was doing during those years, huh?" the boy murmured to himself.
Kanda, however, could hear murmurs very well. "What did you say?" he asked, tense. What did Lavi know, and why? He had never expected, not even once, that the idiot would know anything about this whole mess.
"Let's say I like knowing what happens around," said Lavi easily. "It's what makes me useful in this group, you know. Now, why don't we make a deal, Yuu? You tell me an interesting story, and I will try to do whatever is it that you want so much."
He had him.
And for the life of him, he would make that boy pay for forcing him to do that; but as of now, he needed help, and only the redhead could offer it to him. He knew it, and so did Lavi.
He sat down abruptly, ready to edit and omit as many facts as he could, and already mentally asking the general for forgiveness.
·÷±‡±±‡±÷·
"Next time I visit a city, I will do as you asked," Lavi had promised him, after managing to extract much more from Kanda than the Japanese had expected to reveal. He didn't want to think the reason behind the interest on a few years of the general's life.
With Allen giving them tasks so frequently, it didn't take long for the redhead to depart – but not after receiving a very clear warning from Kanda about what exactly would happen to him should he use the information to trouble the general in any way.
Kanda blamed himself for risking Tiedoll's safety but, at the same time, knew he would do it all again if he had to. His only chance was in the data from the Second Exorcist Project, and the general must have enough clearance so as to get his hands in some archives. Komui, one of Allen's contacts, was a scientist, but Kanda had never directly messaged him and couldn't trust the man. Instead, he would try to arrange a meeting directly with the general. Hopefully, the man still enjoyed some of the freedom he had had in the years he raised Kanda while they were hidden from the Order.
Hopefully… he would agree to listen to Kanda, after all this time.
Tiedoll was no scientist, but was quite knowledgeable. Perhaps he would be able to get him a clue on the effects the experiments could have had in Allen's mind. He looked at the other exorcist, who had just finished talking to the leader of a group of exiles. It was so difficult to make plans with the boy as a centerpiece without telling him about them. He remembered the look Allen had after being left by himself in the tent before the projection; Kanda had promised, even if silently, that he wouldn't abandon him, and he hadn't – but he wanted to reassure the boy somehow.
"Allen."
The white haired teenager stopped his movements, turning towards him. Silver eyes blinked, and Kanda bit his lip. "Yes?"
Kanda took a deep breath, before staring at the other's eyes unflinching, not showing a sign of fear. "Don't you worry," he started, and then he placed his hands over the boy's shoulders. "You are going to win. Do you understand? You are going to emerge victorious. Please believe that."
Allen seemed surprised at his declaration, as he should be; Kanda hadn't showed any sort of hostility at the boy lately, but hadn't been this open either. Allen finally smiled.
"Thank you," said he, resting a hand over one of Kanda's own. "I'm quite aware. The Order has its days counted."
Kanda tried his very best to react with proper satisfaction, though he was far from content: Allen's answer hadn't been the one he had wanted to hear; he hadn't been talking about the Order.
But despite the misunderstanding, he still stared deeply at those eyes he'd been avoiding the past months, hoping to discover the secrets they guarded. "You have always been strong. Keep fighting. You can do it," he said, trying to reach the one he truly wanted to speak to.
Allen turned his gaze to the horizon, the healthy shine from his eyes gone. "Yeah. Don't stop, keep walking. I know, I know," said he, before shaking Kanda's hands off gently and leaving him behind, not showing a sign of recognition.
It was really unbearable.
·÷±‡±±‡±÷·
And as days went by and Lavi just wouldn't come back, it only got worse.
Today, part of the group had stayed to clear a community free of Akuma. With Lavi gone, Allen and Kanda had gotten to the meeting point first. The boy had readied them a quick meal, and they sat side by side in a log, eating a soup that would be better if it only had more than just one kind of vegetable. Kanda spooned the thing into his mouth automatically, but was far more aware of the person sitting to his right than of the weak potato meal inside his bowl.
They finished and remained together in silence, and that was agonizing for him. It had been months since he had last spoken to Allen – truly spoken to him, without the careful words filled with double meanings. His hands clenched hard, his body almost succumbing to the urge to tremble, the urge to lose his control and fall apart right then. These past months had been, to him, about a restraint of such extent he had never had to put so much effort in controlling himself before. Outwardly, he hoped he seemed only slightly disturbed. It wouldn't do to become transparent in front of the one before him.
He didn't know whether it would be safe.
The pressure of the last weeks seemed to have accumulated, however, and he would burst if he didn't release it somehow. His friend had to be alive. Allen had to be alive, by his side, right now, and he would wait no more in order to confirm it.
"We… have to continue with our… mission, Allen," said Kanda finally, awkwardly, but trying to make a point… trying to reach Allen where he had failed so many other times. "I'm sure we can do it-"
"I understand. You don't have to tell me that, you know."
"What I mean-"
"The Order ruins our lives again and again, and every single person in our little group has been a victim from them. That is why I count on you all to eradicate their evil from this world," said the boy in that preaching voice of his. Allen raised his eyes, unfamiliar eyes Kanda had been trying to hard to avoid. They seemed as infected, as corrupted and wrong as they had been that day when Kanda had the unpleasant experience of watching Allen being temporarily taken over by the enemy. "It is good to have you by my side in this journey, Kanda," continued he, still by his side, ignoring the fact that the taller man was very obviously close to a breakdown.
Not Yuu. Kanda.
Kanda.
There was only one occasion when Allen had called Kanda by his last name – it was right after awakening from those feverish dreams, he now remembered. Kanda realized, nauseated, that it hadn't been his friend back then.
And the one by his side today wasn't Allen, either. Not at all.
Unable to endure it anymore, Kanda got up from his seat in a flash, running towards the shelter of trees. He couldn't determine whether it was because of the unbearable nausea he felt right now or the revulsion at the idea of staring at Allen's face and not seeing him.
He only managed to run a few meters inside before he fell to his knees and lost his lunch. He vomited everything he had in his stomach and more, convulsing violently, nails gripping the earth, yet his body's discomfort was the least of his problems.
Kanda was very sick, and stayed in there for quite a while, trying to regain his breath, when all of a sudden he felt a touch on his bent back – so surprising, so unwelcome, when had he followed him? – and the hand moved in circles slowly, a parody of the way Kanda had tried to comfort Allen long ago. Kanda raised his eyes towards… Allen, who was kneeling by his side, seeming worried about his discomposure.
He couldn't take it.
Slapping the hand away so violently it had to have hurt, Kanda jumped to his feet, trying to fight the strong vertigo that took over him and threatened to bring him to the floor once more. One hand clenched his stomach, and the other touched Mugen's hilt. Allen also stood, tranquil and unworried about Kanda's actions.
"I know who you are," said Kanda, "I know who you are!"
Allen tilted his head at the shout, and it was so reminiscent of his friend's habits it was sickening. "But of course. You would be a fool not to." Even as Mugen activated, still sheathed but radiating menace, the boy had yet to even twitch. "I do wonder how much you understand, though."
Having had enough of the enemy's taunting, Kanda jumped towards him, fast as only an Apostle could be. One hand clenched around that thin neck, so hard he could feel the pulse strongly against his fingers, and the other raised his Innocence, pointing it towards a face he shouldn't be forced to attack. He wanted him to be scared, to disappear to wherever he came from and just leave them in peace, and that wish reflected in the strength of his grip and the deadly shine of his weapon.
And still, there was no reaction from that bizarre version of Allen that seemed always so sure of himself.
"Ah, Kanda," said Allen, smiling sadly. His voice was strained by Kanda's grip, but pacific nonetheless. "You must be the only person in this world I don't have to defend myself against. The only one I don't have to struggle from, not even if you say you are going to kill me, not even as you grab my neck, able to crush it oh so easily."
Kanda's breath was erratic and he let the blade touch that white skin. The body in front of him was so familiar, but he hated the one he now talked to so much more than he hated anything else in this world. Right now, the whole Order and every Akuma in this planet was of no matter: Kanda knew there was only one individual he wanted dead, and he was in front of him. However, when the blade drew a thin trail of blood from the white haired boy's neck, the Japanese flinched and took it away.
Allen chuckled. "See?" he asked, now calmly removing Kanda's hand from his neck, one finger at a time. "You, Kanda, are the only person who would never, ever hurt me."
Though his hate didn't diminish any as Allen easily removed himself from his grasp, Kanda felt the truth of the words freezing him to the bones. He knew his greatest weakness, and so did the enemy. Was that it? Were they both – he and the true Allen – truly damned?
"You are someone who should be dead," he snapped, hating every second of this exchange. "You are taking his life away!"
Any pleasantness from Allen seemed to leave his whole visage. He didn't seem menacing… only very disappointed. This Allen, Kanda noticed, was never truly angry at him. Just melancholic, whether he expressed that through a frown or a smile.
This time, it was the former.
"You are so quick to sentence me do death," he whispered, "but it is understandable. You love him ever so much. Allen…" silver eyes looked towards the grey sky, or the small parts of it that could be seen through the treetops. "Another victim of the war, Kanda. He is still here… but is almost gone." He turned determined eyes towards the Japanese man. "Winning the war is the least we owe him, Yuu. It's what he wan-"
The words were cut by a backhanded slap – because Kanda had yet to manage to exercise full force against the other exorcist, and he doubted he ever would, but the strength of the hit was enough to send the white haired leader falling to the floor in a messy heap. With bitter satisfaction, Kanda noticed that, for the first time, he had managed to surprise the bastard, if the astounded expression was any clue.
"It's Kanda for you, you son of a bitch," he snarled, spitting on the floor in front of the other exorcist's feet, before turning and going towards the meeting point.
He'd wanted to know who lurked behind those silver eyes, and now he had his answer. The idea of staying ever a second more than necessary near to that… person was unendurable.
Unbeknownst to Kanda, he would come to regret putting more distance between himself and Allen that day.
·÷±‡±±‡±÷·
Two days after the disastrous fight with Kanda, Allen made his way towards a familiar place, having managed to enter a line of caravans and people and make it seem as if he was a part of it. After receiving a very important message from an acquaintance, he quickly extricated himself from his group, having had no time to explain anything. Hopefully, they would be wise enough to wait for his return. Entering without documents would be another matter altogether, but as of now, he had some time to think.
Allen didn't know how he should feel about Kanda. The whole situation was painful for everyone, but he knew part of the conflict had been his own fault. He had never meant to provoke the other exorcist – Allen held no dislike against the man. But looking back, he felt almost as if he had provoked Kanda… and why would he? Really, none of this should be happening. The younger Allen, in his last day of full control, had exposed his situation to the Japanese exorcist, but with broken words and an obviously confused state. That was all Kanda had known of the situation, and it wouldn't be hard to convince him that had been a mistake. If anyone was able to impersonate the younger Allen, it was Allen Walker himself. He knew the boy more deeply than even Kanda did, having watched every moment of his life. So why was it that he had failed to convince the dark haired man, making a ridiculous mistake such as calling him by his last name, something his counterpart would never do? Even before, when he had a chance to react properly to Kanda's prompting, he hadn't truly acted his best.
But even with such troubles, the last months had been much easier than imagined; he had expected his first appearance to his younger counterpart to be the start of a long battle of wills, but the other Allen hadn't been quite the challenge he had expected. He had felt the boy in the back of his mind ever since he started taking over.
The boy was there, yes, but his resistance was futile and, more than that, it was much weaker than expected. He had waited for the child, who had been in control for so long, to strike back in a desperate bid to survive. Instead, however, he had only felt the boy as a weak light, struggling, but not with much fervor. He was aware that they both watched everything that happened to them with the same eyes, but the younger Allen had only manifested more in the first month, started losing the battle in the second and, in this last one, had been barely trying.
Though initially unexpected, this apathy from the person he'd divided this body with for so long had an obvious reason by now.
Kanda.
The man had abandoned Allen, even after hearing the boy's heartfelt confession about his troubles... or, at least, that was what the younger Allen had believed, but it was very foolish of him. The boy had been losing hope from the start, but it was obvious Kanda had been worrying terribly about him and didn't externalize it for fear of the one in current control.
This last impressive burst of Kanda, however, had made things clear even for the younger Allen, and as of now he felt a greater struggle from him… but it was far too late. Control given up was much harder to get back, and the boy was too deep in the oblivion of his newfound prison, from which he could only watch events passively until he fell unconscious for the last time.
Kanda made a mistake by making it look as if he was uncaring about the younger Allen's plight, while the boy made a worse mistake by giving up just because of that. When you had an objective, a dream, you didn't stop. Not for anything, not for anyone.
Remembering his own tragic death caused by his father, in that day he refused to attack back, the older Allen let out a bitter chuckle and wondered whether he really had a right to judge the two friends. His thoughts were interrupted as he finally reached the gates, and he tensed in expectation. Would he be able to worm his way with help, or would he need to try to leave the line and enter without getting caught?
In the end, Allen entered the city aided by what the Black Order would call a corrupt guard, but he considered an ally. It was ever so convenient that his contact would be on shift at the same time he needed to enter. For his plan to work, he needed to avoid the disturbance that would be caused by any sort of alarm.
Looking at this known place was a surreal experience. It had changed, yes, but even after these decades it still remained the same, somehow. For every part that had been taken down and rebuilt, he could also find a building, a street and sometimes even old trees he had passed by in the past, when he had been an official exorcist of the Black Order… and for all the grief the organization brought him, being able to be a legal citizen who could go from a place to the other without fearing an attack had been a luxury he had missed terribly ever since being accused of treason.
Of course, he watched all of that from a secluded spot he'd found with some ease. This city was set in a place far away from most of the exile communities; that also meant less Akuma circled it, and the city was somewhat… easygoing. Less watched, perhaps. Guards were everywhere, yes, but their vigilance wasn't as paranoid as that of those who worked in cities that suffered more frequent invasion attempts; as long as he played his part well today, he wouldn't have to worry about having to deal with any of them.
Making sure no one was coming in his direction – which would be quite unlikely, considering he was hiding in a corner over a rooftop – he opened his bag and retrieved a few items. They were few and of a light weight: a mirror and a wig, plus a few clothes that had been difficult to get his hands on… elegant ones that would make him at home amidst in the city's richer areas, that was for certain.
He quickly discarded most of the older, somewhat battered clothes he'd worn outside, dressing in the well tailored black slacks and white shirt, a pair of new shoes finishing a simple but respectable look. Huffing in exasperation at what he was about to do, Allen picked the wig and carefully placed it over his head after hiding white strands that fell over his face.
This wig was quite different from the two others he carried, of darker and duller colors that would help him mingle with the crowd. Today's wig was filled with thick hair, dark red and long. Allen stared at his reflex in the mirror and became speechless, despite the fact that he should have known what to expect. It was just that the difference it made on him was breathtaking. His face was still not completely right, not truly his own, but with the scar and the addition of his original hair color, he almost indulged in the fantasy of being back in the past, when he hadn't been killed by his father and didn't have to kill an innocent in order to survive. The fact that he was in one of his favorite cities he'd visited so many times only added to the nostalgia, making his chest hurt.
He placed the mirror back in its pocket and hid the old backpack that didn't suit his elegant attire. That was it; his clock showed him that it was time, and any more dallying would make him late. Cross, a man whose continued existence and youth had to be the result of very advanced magic, had sent him a detailed account of Nea's likely whereabouts through an Akuma Allen later disposed of. Nea would be here again only in the next month, so it wouldn't do to waste today's opportunity.
Allen tried to calm his nerves, unable to control the anxiety that came with meeting his mentor once more. Still, despite the small fear he held at the prospect of Nea's reaction, he smiled at his little plan. It had been quite a while since he had pranked his dear teacher – fifty years, to be exact. It was about time they met again, and they should do so in style.
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A/N: Please leave a comment.