We're a little delayed! This one has haunted, taunted, etc. We've had a wave of spam accounts. We've had thunderstorms and heat warnings. I still hate my job. God willing, this will be done before I quit. Thank you to my few and wonderful readers and (presumably) my even fewer silent haters. You're the best
Kanda regained consciousness halfway back through the dead village. That only meant he wasn't dreaming any more. He still couldn't walk. The wounds he had forced him against Daisya's shoulder as he limped along.
Daisya didn't ask what happened.
"Hell are you doing?" had been the first question from Kanda who actually remembered who he was.
"I should be asking you."
"I went for a walk."
"After that," Daisya snapped.
They lurched over the ground in a three-legged run that wasn't winning any races. Kanda did go on walks, he wasn't lying. And in the middle of the night. Daisya lay up awake in bed sometimes while he was gone, not waiting for him, but too jumpy to sleep. Those treks just tended to be shorter than this one.
And they didn't end up with Kanda practically dead and hobbling.
"How long?" had been the second question.
"Dunno."
"Guess, then."
Daisya whistled low in his throat while he counted. He could barely see the moonglow over them and he wouldn't remember how to tell the time by it anyway. They walked right under the open sky even while the houses cast shadows from it.
"It's two thirty? Beats me. My watch is still in the bag," he mumbled. "When'd you head out again?"
"Can't remember."
"Liar. Seven thirty."
Weakly, Kanda grumbled. "I don't look at a clock every time I move."
"Hey, me neither," said Daisya.
The snow had lightened up again with fewer flakes, and larger. They mounded up on their shoulders and in the folds of their clothes.
"Why didn't you go to bed?" was the third question.
"You know I get worried when something's up with you," Daisya complained.
"No you don't."
"I do too. You're worse than my sister, acting like I don't care."
"Shut up."
Daisya felt fingers curl more tightly around his side as Kanda dug in. He realized he was clinging to Kanda just as much.
"I like to know you're there," he muttered.
"I don't care. Don't stop for me," said Kanda.
"I told you, I can't help it!" The bubbling anger flipped open Daisya's lid for a second. "You think I like running sprints all day? All night? Whatever."
"Yeah," was all Kanda said.
They shuffled over an icy stretch that cracked beneath their boots.
Was that a joke? Was he joking now, of all times? Daisya wondered if this was now Kanda felt around him.
"Okay. I don't like this," he said.
The snow melted where it touched Daisya's skin. He could feel it drip down his neck, trickling under the bandages. His teeth were starting to chatter.
"Are you cold?" he asked. "It's freezing out."
Around them, the darkness didn't seem so pitch black as it was an hour ago. It wasn't light, either, just a dull, fading grey.
"No."
Daisya bowed his head. "Yeah, right."
What sort of thing could he say to Kanda? Nothing he ever did got through. It was like throwing himself up against a brick wall, except he could explode brick walls if he wanted.
They passed under a tall arch between the wall and stone, church-like building that didn't show the sign of the cross anywhere.
He wanted it to stop. Everything. He wanted everything to go away. If there was nothing else here, then what he did didn't have to end with tomorrow morning.
Was that weird?
Daisya loved when there was something in the world to work against, something he could spend his time figuring out. Even tonight, he felt the rush when all the town was opened up under his nose.
That feeling had drained out. He just wanted to stop moving, lie down, and sleep for three nights.
He wanted Kanda to be there with him.
There wasn't anything he could do that Kanda would want. That Kanda could need. His body would take time to heal, but Daisya never had any patience for that.
Damn it!
Daisya sniffled like a kid.
…
By the time they got back to the inn, Kanda had gone back to the spaced-out state where he'd found him. He managed to stay standing, swaying a little, while Daisya forced the key through the frozen lock of the side door. It was uncanny feeling him watch, knowing he wasn't going to make any rude remarks. He still couldn't find it in himself to relax.
After the sticky wood got forced open, Daisya had nearly had to carry Kanda up the stairs. They lurched in tandem this way and that in the narrow hall outside their room. He had to keep Kanda balanced on one hip like a shopping bag, for Christ's sake. He didn't know how they made it the last few feet.
But they did, and the moment they'd reached the bed, Kanda lay down on the sheets and went out like a light.
Daisya sat down next to him.
He stared into nothing, breathing. It was like the time before creation. The world was all around him but until he saw it, he wouldn't know.
He couldn't blame Kanda. Daisya himself could barely move his feet, after the night's…fun. No human was meant to be out this long after an early morning, not up here when it was pitch black until halfway to lunch. He liked the cold and the night.
Rolling some life into one jarred ankle, he hummed. Yeah.
He did like the promise of not knowing. He didn't ever like getting kicked out of bed and asked to work like he was back home on morning shift.
They were going to have to leave here when they could. He had to get them ready tonight. They might sleep too long into the morning at this rate.
Gripping the edge of the bed for dear life, Daisya pushed himself back up. There was nothing left of the world without the pressure underneath his thighs. He moved through the darkness like a swimmer, limbs outstretched.
The perfect place to start fresh.
First off, he couldn't see a thing! He'd have to fix that. The rest of this whole unsalvageable nightmare could wait.
Hands skipping from surface to surface, he felt his way to the shutters. Wrenching them open gave him just enough to glimpse the edges of the furniture. The clouded night kept all the light close to the town rather than letting it fall up to nowhere.
A draught blew at him out of the tall window's frame, and Daisya realized he was freezing too. There was one thin spare coat in the bottom of his pack he could find, but he'd been running around down just in his shirtsleeves. His sweat was already cooled to ocean temperatures.
Daisya could navigate the narrow room without a problem, now. The bed against the wall left enough space for just one person to fit between it and the wardrobe against the other wall, if you sidled through sideways. There was one tiny patch of open floor near the door where he'd put his things. He bet there was only space left there to allow the door to swing.
He grabbed his bag and dumped it out straight out on the bed, not bothering to dig through. The spare cloak fell out on top of a pile of junk. Voilà!
Daisya pulled it on over his undershirt, over top of the bandages. Still cold. It didn't make much of a difference.
He had other things to do than complain about it. With that small shield between him and the chill, he went to work.
Spreading the rest of his stuff out, he turned his attention to the biggest thing he'd taken with him.
Kanda's body would be working like a steam engine underneath that skin of his. He knew first-hand how long that recovery could be when it came down to the wire like this. When it was his turn coming back from the brink, Daisya had been knocked out for days. It was a surprise Kanda'd still been awake to mutter at him even with his extra concentrated blood juice.
This room barely had space to fit the bed, and the bed barely had enough room for Kanda. Beneath the long window, he slotted into its glow like a body in a coffin.
Daisya looked him over. He was sleeping soundly enough for a fully-clothed guy face-down on the mattress. Chances are, he wouldn't be disturbed that easily. He also wasn't the best sight. Getting beat to hell and left in a dumpster would do that to you. It was going to be safer if Daisya bundled him up in dry clothes now. Besides, Daisya wasn't about to share with someone's cold wet boots. No way.
He set aside any pairs of socks he could find, then shoved the rest of his things back in their bag and threw it aside. They'd need all the help they could get to avoid coming down with a chill. Manoeuvring around the wardrobe, he managed to get its door open without blocking off half the room. He took out the blankets he found inside. Not many. Those went over the foot of the bed for later.
Then, Daisya bit some life into his fingers and went to work on Kanda's way-too-many buckles.
The boots had to go first. After a short struggle, Daisya peeled them off and threw them over by the door. Now the coat.
He turned Kanda over by the shoulder, wondering a little if he'd wake up. No luck—his head just lolled back at an angle that was going to give him a cramp in the morning. Daisya'd have to get the rest of his soaked clothes off himself.
The buttons were pretty quick. He slipped them out of the holes easy-peasy and then opened the sides and—
—stopped dead.
Daisya had seen Kanda in rough shape before.
Hell, he'd picked shrapnel out of his guts while he was still awake and talking to him. It was another thing to get surprised like this. Kanda had on the usual uniform undershirt and another one under that. They were supposed to be off-white, Daisya knew, and it was dark out. He couldn't see right. He was still sure they weren't supposed to be spotted over with black. He looked like he'd been dragged through ink. What the hell happened?
Swallowing hard, Daisya moved Kanda's arms like a ragdoll's while he worked the sleeves off. The scuffed coat got tossed to the same corner as the boots. At first, he'd just planned to take off the stuff Kanda had that would dirty up the sheets. Now that he'd got a closer look, Daisya had the sinking feeling that there might be some first aid required.
The back of his throat stung. Was this what the old man said was heartburn?
At least Kanda's legs seemed fine, he told himself. No blood there.
It took him a few tries for Daisya to get both shirts off, not helped by how much his hands were shaking. The fatigue was not going away now that he'd slowed down. Actually, it was getting worse. He could barely keep himself standing.
Kanda's arms were fine, too. His torso was pretty badly bruised, but that didn't explain the amount of blood. There was just the crusted-over line that ran along his collar, up his neck…
His fingers rested on the back of Kanda's skull. The surface under the skin wasn't supposed to be this rough.
The akuma hadn't used their powers on either of them. If akuma was what they were. Kanda wasn't shot or even pierced by anything.
Daisya looked away, out the blue outline of the window. There was some commotion if he strained his ears to hear. The bakers and the milkmen were awake already. They'd want to leave pretty speedy in the morning.
He kept his mind on the task at hand. Under hand. Too soft and wet in his hand. You know, Akuma had perfect disguises up until they pointed their guns on you. It wasn't hard to get them to that point. Exorcists just had to be watching for whoever was trying to get them out of the way, get them killed, or get them trapped.
Those ones he fought definitely fit into category B. Never mind them having a go at him, they were sure they'd killed Kanda already and taken his Innocence. No human was going to be interested in Innocence, right?
He followed the glow down along the windowsill. It hopped from there to the headboard, just a few pieces of wood hammered together, over the pathetically flat pillow, down on to Kanda. Daisya could see his breath puff up little clouds of fog in the draught from the window.
No human would think Mugen had any real value. As a weapon, sure, it was fine, but worth stealing? It wasn't like people fought with sabres anymore, it was all about artillery. Humans had finally caught on to it. There'd be no reason for any person to actually steal it.
Daisya wasn't stupid. He was even smart. He could put together that the things he'd sunk under bricks in the alley were fleshy bodies. The Charity Bell didn't resonate with them like it did with the akuma's metal shells. They were too wet. There wasn't a single mark of the akuma virus on him or Kanda, not a bullet hole, not a mark of any of the Level Twos' weird powers.
Kanda had his skull smashed by someone real. They killed him without anything like a reason.
Daisya tugged the sheets out from under Kanda's cold body. Once that was done, he shoved him over close to the wall. The sheets went on top. Then, he unfolded the spare blankets and spread them over top.
He went to the window to pull the shutters closed. The latch would keep them shut enough to ward off at least part of the cold and the noise that was going to start in an hour or two.
The room was small enough that it wasn't hard to move around in the pitch dark. Another two steps, and Daisya was back at the bed.
He sat down on the edge.
Leaning into his hands, he cried for a few minutes.
When he'd done that, Daisya stood back up. He took off both boots with a minimum of hopping around on one foot as he tried to balance, then threw his coat on top of the blankets.
Daisya went to bed.
Under the cover of not enough blankets and not enough night, he curled himself around Kanda. It was harder than it used to be. He'd gotten a growth spurt this year, leaving Daisya behind at the same height he'd always been.
Warming up took time. Daisya was shivering there for an hour, maybe. Two? It was hard to tell if clinging to Kanda like this was working to share heat, or if the guy was just stealing his hard-earned energy. Why'd he have to be so darned cold?
After another half-hour, or five, he felt bored enough to at least let go and turn the other way.
But with snake-like speed, Kanda's hand shot out, gripping his wrist like a vice.
"No…"
The sound was hoarse, cut off by some instinct. Daisya looked back with dark-accustomed eyes and found himself touching noses with Kanda's panicked face.
"Chill out," he said evenly. "I'm just moving around."
The grip let up without any apology. No snarky comment, either. He'd never seen Kanda get shaken up like this. Hell, he hadn't felt this weird himself in a while. Now the adrenaline was gone he felt…cold. Chilled through. All he could think of was the work it'd take to get out of town tomorrow. He should be more, he didn't know, touched. Sad? He killed somebody real. And Kanda was clinging to him like a little kid.
He didn't want to pat him on the head or anything. Everything in the room was awkward and unliving. There wasn't any comforting bullshit he could spin up. He just wanted to have Kanda tight against him until they became the same body with the same marks on it. That was it—for once Daisya didn't have anything he was trying to get out. No energy, no buzz. He'd been emptied. He needed to fill it in.
"You want to talk?" he asked.
"No."
"Yeah, I figured. You want me to talk?"
Kanda shifted like a marionette in a way that he'd take as a shrug. Daisya thought for a moment.
"I don't know," he said.
He turned over like he'd meant to, mixing his legs up in Kanda's so he could still feel him there.
"I mean, there's nothing I can even talk about. I went out looking for you. You're here. It's not complicated. It's boring."
Shoving a hand under each arm, he tried to warm up. Still cold. He might even miss the summers back home if this night dragged on any longer.
"Do you," Kanda rasped, "Remember?"
"Remember what?"
"Everything. Even if it didn't happen to you."
Daisya tried to think of whether there was any sense Kanda could be making, or if it was just the head wound.
"Sure? Not everything, but if somebody tells me a story, I'm pretty good with those."
"That's not what I mean."
Leaning his head back into Kanda's shoulder, Daisya stared at the wall that hovered a few feet from his face. The wood skirting and cracked plaster were plain as day.
Or, wait, was it just him, or was dawn starting? Had they stayed awake through the night? Daisya's teeth were close to chattering from the comedown, from freezing to death from running around without his damn coat, or whatever else.
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I don't."
It wasn't like him to be this cold.
"I remember being…taller," Kanda gritted out. "Stuff that didn't happen since I've been alive."
Dreams? He wasn't talking about dreams, was he? Daisya threw away that possibility. Even Kanda knew what a dream was. He wasn't that dumb. They both had plenty of experience with dreams, since they ran into that Noah. Kanda would say if it was like that. He wouldn't be trying to put together this idea for Daisya from weird odds and ends of phrases.
"Nope. I know I was born. I don't remember that. Then I grew up. Here I am."
Kanda grunted.
"If you're talking about what happened when we got caught by that Noah…"
"No. Not that."
Reaching back, Daisya felt around with a hand until he found Kanda's. The moment he spread his fingers, it closed tight around him like a dead spider. Daisya gripped right back.
"Then what the hell's going on?" he asked.
"I told you. I was…someone else."
Daisya was going to have more luck staring through the wall than he was going to have understanding Kanda.
"Why'd you ask me? You sure your injury's healing up okay? I bet your brain's just scrambled," he said.
"Shut up." If anything, that told Daisya that he was doing just fine.
"First you tell me to talk, now you want me to be quiet. Make up your mind."
There must've been some kind of bite that came through the words. Kanda didn't snap back or sulk like he should.
"…never mind," he mumbled. "You weren't there."
It was like he was hearing someone talking in another language. Daisya's train of thought had hit the wall. He was too. He was what? Older than Kanda? Older than himself? Some kind of a hybrid monster made up by the Order from failed Innocence? Kanda's own bone shards could be buried in his brain. Why would he remember anything else? Why would Kanda think he remembered?
"Did you know someone like that?"
He didn't get an answer. Daisya kicked the back of Kanda's knee.
"Kanda?"
"Yeah."
Then, Daisya lay stunned.
It was real?
"Really?"
"Tch."
His head spun.
"Who proved it?"
"Yeah."
Kanda wasn't just muttering whatever came into his cracked head. So there was somebody out there who'd told Kanda that he wasn't the only one. Said something Daisya couldn't.
But why'd he ask, if he didn't expect him to say yes?
Daisya's mouth moved around the next question without his say-so. It was like it was there inside it already. He just needed to clean it out of his head. Another question whose answer he didn't need to hear. There was somebody he knew who'd been out of his reach since always. Almost the start. Who he remembered without ever having met.
"Who was it?" he asked.
"Alma."
Every time it was the same.
Daisya watched the wood skirting intently, in case it decided to give him an explanation.
That was it. That name that chased them both around.
Well, Kanda never seemed to be able to stop thinking about it. Daisya just happened to be there with him while he was thinking. Alma. Alma. Kanda's first friend, or at least one of his friends. Daisya could only guess what happened between them apart from Alma trying to kill him. That was the one thing Kanda gave up.
Tears slid off of Daisya's face on to the sheets. Just the same as the ones that fell when you got an eyeful of cold wind, they didn't mean much.
So even now after everything, Kanda still thought it was Alma here with him. Huh. Eight years walking next to Daisya and it was Alma, Alma, Alma…
Once, Daisya would've given up his pinkie finger to hear more about that story. What did Kanda mean, memories from before? Wasn't it time he told Daisya about the first bit of his own story he let slip?
Daisya gave up his hold on Kanda. His hand slid out through the gaps between his fingers. Pulling his knees right up to his chest, Daisya curled around himself. It was important, yeah, to stay warm through what was left of the night. The morning. Whatever.
His body was shutting down parts minute after minute. Soon he'd be able to sleep.
There was someone who knew. Kanda thought that he knew. Alma knew. Kanda thought he was Alma.
It all came back to the start. Daisya's skin burned off because Kanda thought Alma was there, with them. Alma never was.
Only Daisya.
He gave up on consciousness completely. That was a sucker's game.
Except, then Kanda moved.
Daisya could see it with both his eyes tight shut.
With a corner of their blankets in one hand, Kanda threw an arm over him and wrapped them both up. Daisya stopped breathing just so he could hear.
Kanda did something that rustled the bed around him. Daisya didn't know what. He pushed his hair out of the way, sweeping over Daisya's face. Then he leaned over him. Daisya felt the warmth coming off of him, spreading into his shoulders.
Just like that, Kanda stopped a while.
Then, barely touching, left a kiss on Daisya's jaw where it jutted out above the sheets.
Was that supposed to be "sorry"?
Feeling seeped back into Daisya like a fever.
"I—" he started.
He felt Kanda's forehead, ice cold, touch the base of his skull. Like this, he couldn't see Daisya's face. Did he know it was Daisya here when he wasn't looking? Or did Kanda's old memories fill in Alma, or whoever it was that taught him to act like this.
"I l—"
If he had to stay awake any longer, Daisya was going to wish he had his own head smashed in.
"I'll be here," he murmured.
That was enough. The last thing he felt was one warm exhale across his neck.
I don't even know how to describe what Kanda and Daisya have going on-are they dating? Can't really go on dates when you're either together 24/7 or in different countries. Are they boyfriends? They're definitely not planning to get married. What kind of a relationship is it, when you've been bound by promises and life debt since you were 12 and decided to kiss about it? Who can say!
