Hello again, and thank you very much to Karina for reviewing the last chapter.
If I may go off on a tangent, this story was mainly inspired by the accidental worldbuilding the anime added in when they transitioned out of one filler arc and into Daisya's, using a character with a name and nothing else and giving him another small filler arc. However, in adding a few harmless lines of dialogue and a backstory, a few questions were inadvertently raised. Why did Kanda have to meet Daisya in a small, presumably German town instead of at headquarters? How did Daisya come to be less scared of Kanda than even Lavi? If he's known Kanda long enough to accurately read him (a difficult feat), then precisely how long has Daisya known Kanda and Marie, and why does Marie (the friendlier one) act more coldly (relatively) towards him than Kanda?
I wondered for a while particularly about why Kanda said to 'protect' or 'take care of' (dub and sub respectively) Daisya, which is uncharacteristic of him but not OOC, given the anime's more nuanced take on his (Kanda's) character - namely that, while he is irritable, angry, and bitter, he values life and will save whoever he can while incurring the fewest losses. Frankly, I prefer that version of Kanda to his character in the first 40-some chapters of DGM, where I find him to be little more than an angry piece of cardboard.
Either way, the purpose of this story is to create just one possible past that could have built up to Daisya's death without making Kanda a completely bastardized version of himself. That being said, his actions in the first section of this (named 'The Road to Budapest') he'll be a bit more emotional and more erratic, as he would have only been alive for two years, and the trauma of the incident with Alma would have a heavier effect on his actions. Also, this particular chapter features the whole gang operating on maybe three hours of sleep, so they're all acting a bit oddly.
So, if you'll pardon the background, continue as you were. I hope you read, enjoy, and review, hopefully in that order.
...
Marie relaxed, and opened his ears to the sounds of the port. Children crying, the urgent but comforting voices of parents, the flow of the river.
The heavy breathing of the three sleepers was a velvet texture on the edge of hearing, thankfully devoid of snoring. Marie had once had to switch finders and partners because of that. His sensitive hearing was as much a curse at times as it was a gift.
Time wore on, and the exact details of the mission remained opaque.
Why had the finders disappeared? Generally they were able to file a report before being offed by akuma.
Why was Kanda here with them? Why did he and Daisya need company? Exorcists younger than them had taken solo missions before, provided their finders were competent.
But there were no finders, and too many exorcists.
Perhaps it was a way to get them out of the Order's hair.
But that was irrelevant, at the moment, because beside him he could hear not one, now, but two higher-pitched rhythms of breath, calm for once in sleep.
That was what was important.
…
At the end of the day, the ferry had pulled into another port, and another two hours laid themselves out for the slaughter. They had to catch the train tonight.
The four travellers sat on their coats at the base of a wall, trying not to fall asleep, to a greater or lesser degree of success. Even Daisya had nothing to say, instead staring out at the street without even a disparaging laugh.
People passed in the fading sunlight, and the dull roar of the crowd a few streets over echoed off of the deserted stones of the alley. Marie picked out a woman complaining about the quality of bread, a child crying about a dropped toy, and a man attempting to calm down a frantic horse.
Clop, clack as the horse backed down.
And then, the strains of a fiddle on the edge of hearing, and tapping feet.
Daisya started, as if remembering something. Perhaps he'd passed from exhaustion into the destructive kind of energy brought on by going beyond being tired.
"Hey, Kanda, wanna kick the ball around a bit?"
"No."
"Because I really need some practice if we're going to run into akuma."
"Football has nothing to do with Innocence."
"Yeah, but it has got something to do with mine."
"Yeah, right."
Daisya laughed.
"Give me five seconds."
He turned over, and plunged his hand into one of the bags, eventually bringing out a small bell, a cage of metal around a small ball.
"This is it. Can only use it if I kick it."
Kanda stared for a moment, but didn't remain surprised for long. His expression hadn't even changed.
"That's pathetic."
Daisya tossed it up, and caught it, cutting off the ringing sound.
"So, what d'you say?"
"No."
Kanda hadn't even bothered to look at him, but Daisya's expression of mild amusement had already set.
"Think of it this way: I'm going to be useless if I don't get any practice. It's like you're training me. And I promise to go easy on ya."
Tiedoll took a moment to intervene. Though, whose side he was on was debatable.
"Daisya, Kanda doesn't nearly have the same experience with football. It's not very considerate to ask him to play against you now."
The statement was quiet and polite, and had exactly the effect it was intended to have. The General had not earned his ranking for his battle skill alone.
Kanda grumbled under his breath, and shot a heavier glare at Daisya.
"Fine."
…
"All right!"
Daisya laughed, and bounced the ball from one foot to another.
"That was sorta good, Kanda."
The shot in question had, completely by chance, ricocheted off a wall before hitting a crossbeam from a half-timber house at precisely the right angle to drive it straight down over Daisya's head. Kanda had been satisfied with that one.
Of course, Daisya had just stepped back and caught the ball on his knee, which made Kanda even more livid than before.
"That was useless," he said curtly, "If someone returns it like that, you're dead. Do it better this time."
"Yeah, yeah, but you can't say I'm not great at this."
Daisya kicked the ball up again, headed it, and whipped around in a roundhouse kick to drive it within a centimetre of Kanda's ear.
To Kanda's ever-increasing annoyance, Daisya was right.
…
At one point, Kanda managed to catch Daisya off guard, but that was the greatest of his successes.
The day after that, he achieved twice that.
The dust whipped up in the fading sunlight a third time, and then a fourth, killing time in the squares and side streets.
...
The inn they found a few days later should have been a nice, quiet place to get a rest. The wooden furniture was elegantly cut, if not carved, and the sheets were merely off-white instead of the usual suspicious yellow colour.
Instead, it was no less exciting than anywhere else.
Daisya's heels dug into the ground, but Kanda had firmly attached himself to the bedframe.
"No way, bastard! I haven't had a good sleep in days because of you!"
The protest would have been a roar if Kanda's face wasn't buried in the blankets.
"But Kanda, it's for your musical education," muttered Daisya through gritted teeth, "You'll enjoy it."
"No," snapped Kanda, "Go pester the old man."
Daisya let go for a moment, readjusted his grip on Kanda's ankles, and started pulling again before Kanda had a chance to kick.
"He's on the phone."
Kanda twisted to the side, almost knocking Daisya over. Geez, the kid was strong.
"Then ask Marie!"
"Nah, he'll just tell me to go to shut up."
"That's the point, imbecile!"
"Well, he's probably going to say the same to you with the racket you're making."
Kanda's momentary burst of angry, obscene indignation loosed his grip just enough for Daisya to separate him from the headboard. He hit the floor, curled up defensively by instinct, and tried to shake Daisya loose with a couple of kicks.
However, Daisya was expecting it, and pulled Kanda up by the shoulders, quickly getting him in a full Nelson. The kids in his village had been way more trouble than this.
"Hey, Marie! Kanda wants to go see the dancing. You want to come with us?"
His shout had no reply.
"Eh, he's probably somewhere else," he said to himself as Kanda shook him off.
He grabbed Kanda's hand before he had a chance to recover, and dragged him out the door.
…
Marie, as it turned out, was already leaning against the half-timber walls of the inn, listening to the music.
A vehement grumbling and annoying laughter alerted him to his company.
"So you were here, after all," said Daisya blithely.
"Yes, I heard the racket," Marie replied quietly, "But the music is good, so shut up before you ruin it."
Kanda was stewing with a bitter sort of fury, but Daisya's hand was around his wrist with his thumb on a pressure point, and Marie's comment stopped him just short making a scene.
"Hey, you wanna join them?"
Kanda kicked Daisya in the shins as he felt the brush of breath in his ear.
"No."
"Why not? You liked the note game, and dancing's fun, anyway."
"Shut up."
"Come on, just one song. Everyone's doing it."
"No."
"Aww."
Daisya looked at him with a mock-imploring gaze, then appeared to think of something.
"You at least know how to dance, don't you?"
"No, why the hell would I?"
Kanda glared as Daisya looked at him with disbelief.
"How can you not know how to dance? My sister knows how, and she's five! Just try tapping your foot to the beat, or something."
"No."
Daisya sighed.
"Spoilsport. Tell you what, I'll shut up when you ask me to until we get to Budapest."
"No."
The reply was automated, so Daisya tried again.
"I'll actually do it. How about that."
There was a brief moment of thought from Kanda.
"I hate you."
"All right!"
Daisya peeled away from the wall, dragging Kanda behind him.
"Hey! I didn't–"
"You'll pick it up fine! Just follow me."
The barrage of notes from two or three different instruments hid the melody, and Kanda couldn't hear the beat for the cross rhythms. Somehow, though, Daisya could plant his feet in the middle of all of it, and jumped on each beat like a stepping stone.
Kanda hated the speed with which he moved — he could barely keep up without tripping over his own feet.
There would be hell to pay in a couple of days.
But for now, Daisya was spinning around with an idiot grin on his face.
And at first Kanda had been tripping over his own feet.
And he still resented the fingers gripping his.
But, in his anger — at the slipperiness of the beat, and the creepy bastard dragging him around, at the sleep-deprived jitteriness of his thoughts — he felt alive.
I am pathetic, and I cannot think of a better word to describe the lowest depths of my soul. The main excuse I have is that Kanda is probably too tired to think properly, let alone give Daisya a good beating. Daisya, on the other hand, has an inexhaustible supply of being annoying in its purest form, and uses it as he likes. Marie, of course, just likes a good show.