It's late at night and tomorrow I've got two assignments due, a seminar, and a test, and I've just gotten back from some travelling without access to a computer, so I have to make this quick. Thanks so very much to the three commenters for the last chapter - the comments were really good this time around. I'm afraid chapter lengths are a bit inconsistent due to my having typed this all up as one written work a few months back, but I'll try to post either longer chapters or more frequently now that I've been clearly asked to do so! Anyhow, I don't have the time to respond directly to comments now, but I'll try to update this later in the week to do so. Enjoy.
"Oh, how cute!"
This innkeeper was a girl, regrettably so.
"Ah, aren't they? My sister was rather fond of them, before she passed on."
Kanda was of the opinion that Tiedoll was spinning as cliché a story as he could with the opportunity given to him. The innkeeper seemed to be buying it, at any rate.
At least she hadn't tried to touch him yet.
"What a pity about the parents. You said you're looking for their relatives?"
Tiedoll nodded.
"Yes, we've been looking for a while, but this village seems to be a candidate. I hear it's a rather special place. You do present evidence of its wonders."
The innkeeper, who was of about the same dimensions as Marie, blushed. Kanda used every ounce of willpower available to keep his face straight.
"Oh, you flatter me. We're really nothing special, we just sometimes get travellers. Not such as yourselves, but the ones that never stop travelling, you know," she said, waving a hand as if searching for a word, "Uh…"
"…nomads?"
"Yes, yes, that's the word. Like the circus! It's coming in a week, very exciting."
Tiedoll bowed slightly.
"Yes, we are quite looking forward to it, should we stay that long. I'm afraid we have to unload at the moment, but the children can keep you company in the meantime."
With another small bow — a habit of his, when he was trying to be especially polite — he left Kanda and Daisya to their mutual demise.
…
"Oh, and how did you get those tattoos?"
Half of Daisya was relishing in the attention, and the remaining half was cringing in his seat.
"Um…well, of course, I got them after the accident. As a memento of," he said, desperately laying tracks beneath a moving train, "Uh, my parents, and of home. Yeah. It's nice to have them around."
He smiled, and tried to ignore Kanda's sideways glance of disbelief and the kick in the shins he so generously offered.
"I guess I know how it feels," the innkeeper replied wistfully, "I lost…someone, I think. I can't quite remember it, because I was so young, but I still know it happened."
She apparently doubled as the bartender, and was busily cleaning glasses as the boys sat on the barstools, legs dangling beneath them.
"And how about you, do you have anything to help you remember?" she asked, addressing the question in a slightly more patronizing tone to Kanda.
Daisya noted that her sense of self-preservation was apparently as weak as her self-control in the area of chatting. If Marie wanted information, what they'd collected would take a week to sort through. At least she hadn't asked about the burns, even though the old man had explained them away with the accident. He had a feeling Kanda wouldn't react so kindly to them being brought up.
Speaking of which, he wasn't reacting so kindly to the question now. Daisya smiled, trying to communicate that maybe this was not the time to snap.
Kanda seemed to have gotten some of the message at least.
"I just remember sometimes. That's all," he muttered, managing to keep any emotion out of his voice.
"All right, but you must remember once in a while. It's important to remember everything that happens, if it's good or bad," said the innkeeper cheerfully.
Her German was tainted slightly with an accent, but as time went on Daisya was pretty sure it wasn't Magyar. The old man and Marie were probably the experts, but he had his own set of skills.
Up to and including keeping an entirely straight face as he listened to Kanda's replies.
…
The dust that Daisya kicked up settled in the still air, turning golden as the sun dropped closer to the horizon.
He drove the ball around, controlling it when he suddenly turned at a right angle or more, and occasionally driving it at the wall of the inn. He'd managed to get used to the pain of moving, and the old man still gave him enough painkillers to knock someone out. Sometimes he was pretty sensible, you know?
He ran around again, but it was pretty boring after a while if no one wanted to play. The hard-packed dirt of the courtyard jarred his ankles more than grass, but less than stone.
He ran back, circled around, and aimed the ball at a set of shutters.
It bounced off with a clatter. This was to be expected, as was the lack of a response.
He went around again, and again, listening to the clatters and their echoes and watching the dust motes. Target practice, he reasoned, was the most important thing when you were fighting.
Eventually, Kanda opened the shutters, and yelled down at him.
"Would you shut up?"
Daisya shaded his eyes from the glare in the west, and called back.
"Wanna play with me?"
"No."
The shutters snapped closed, and Daisya had no choice but to hit them again.
"I told you, no."
Kanda glared down at him again.
"Hey, a boy can dream!" Daisya said back, shrugging, "I guess you'll just have to put up with my lack of practice once we start fi–"
He cut himself off, remembering that they were supposed to be quiet about the whole exorcist thing.
Thanks to Kanda's ever-so-persistent refusal, he had but one option remaining.
"Please?"
He was expecting another scoff, sigh, or whatever, but he didn't get a sound. Kanda just looked at him.
There was something in his eyes he'd seen before. The same ghost as when he was standing on the windowsill as the flames worked their way towards the kerosene.
The dust settled, and Daisya didn't bother to wince as the light streamed past his fingers. Something else held his attention. Someone else. Someone in Kanda's eyes.
He looked at Daisya like he'd caused the very destruction of the world. This was Kanda, so that softened it a bit, but still.
What did he ever have against a bit of politeness?
Daiysa returned to kicking the ball in zigzags as the shutters slammed with what had to be enough force to shake the building.
…
The chords were faint, but the harmony when they shifted was calming when quieter, Marie had discovered.
He slipped from C sharp minor into A major, into B major and back to C sharp, adding an F sharp to suspend it.
C sharp minor was the key of emotion, of burning grief mixed with absolute joy. And when played quietly, it exuded a warm type of melancholy. Its twin, D flat major, was no less beautiful, but its tone was milder and more bittersweet.
He shifted again, and again, slowly modulating through E major to F sharp minor — a similar key, but with a more mysterious timbre.
To D, to E, to C sharp minor, then to A.
He couldn't decide whether to use a major or a minor, at the moment.
He was not sad, nor angry, though there was no sense of self-centred joy in it. So, if it were in a minor key, the tempo would not veer above an allegretto, or perhaps a moderato.
Kanda and Daisya, despite the odds, had neither killed each other nor died — yet. And the General seemed to be in a good mood. But there was still the aura of tension around Kanda, and the fact remained that they were dallying where people had disappeared.
The music would not be stately, if it were slow. Not solemn — it would require a certain melancholic tension no matter what the tempo.
He moved one note, anticipating the chord, and then slid into G sharp minor.
But were it not for the logistics of the post of 'exorcist', he would be entirely happy. Kanda was having fun, for lack of a better word, and the General had his students back.
And he could play the role of mentor.
The key spliced together B major and G sharp minor, before ending in E major.
The night was warm, and quiet without the General and Daisya. To respect it, Kanda waited until the final glimmers of sound had died away.
"We're not really here to collect information, are we?"
Marie let the strings retract. His Innocence suited him — innocuous, but strong.
"In a way," he replied, honesty warring with logic.
"There's no point to just waiting to die. It doesn't matter if they know we're exorcists — they'll try to kill us anyway."
"Yes. We are trying to seem innocent. If they don't know who we are, they won't be prepared."
There was a sliding noise as Kanda presumably shifted position.
"They probably already suspect we're exorcists. They should have known we'd come eventually."
Marie nodded.
"Yes. The General just says that, at worst, the effect will be the same as if we announced ourselves."
Kanda made a derisive noise.
"Except we'll just be less prepared. Daisya hasn't even guessed what we're doing."
Kanda was on edge — Marie could hear the tension in his voice.
But there were no further counter-arguments.
It, like most of the General's moves, was a risk. Nonetheless, he was an experienced gambler — he had survived this long, after all.
…
"I've got to say, I'm going to avoid doing laundry as much as I can for as long as I live. If boredom was a thing, it would be laundry," called Daisya from the window.
He finished squeezing the last of the water out of the bandage, then wandered back to the scrap of a shaving-mirror, standing right next to Kanda to force him out of the way.
"Well, you're either going to have to get used to it, or just shut up about it."
Kanda stepped a few inches away, but no more than that, keeping a bit of the mirror for himself. He slowly picked a comb through the ends of his hair, which had become so knotted as to become solid.
"Yeah, yeah. Or I could just not wash anything while I'm on a mission."
Kanda scoffed.
"You already don't clean them much, and you stink."
"If you cared that much about it you'd have brought it up earlier," retorted Daisya, contorting himself in an effort to re-wrap a bandage around his shoulders.
"I had to get through everything else first."
Daisya chuckled, now winding the strip of cloth around his neck.
"What's so funny?" asked Kanda suspiciously
"Ah, nothing. That was a nice line, by the way."
Kanda said nothing, dragging the comb through a patch of hair.
Silence continued for a few more moments as Daisya finished covering up the burns on his head, securing the bandage with a safety pin.
"Well," he said cheerfully, "Almost a day in, and no one's tried to kill us yet."
The comment was not without sardonicism, and Kanda briefly considered the possibility of Daisya being observant before dismissing it. The kid tidying up around the mirror was not a candidate for the title of 'perceptive', with his stupid grins and penchant for chattering.
He started picking at another patch of hair, adding to the clump that was collecting beside the mirror. He liked long hair, but nothing was more tedious that combing it after a few days of neglect.
A few minutes later, his eyes landed upon a distinct space beside the mirror, and he nearly broke the comb in a moment of mild rage.
…
"Give it back."
Daisya was ninety-six percent sure that there was no way to get out of Kanda's straddle without dislocating at least on joint.
"I don't– aaaargh, don't do that, I've got burns, you know!"
Kanda lessened up the pressure.
"Give me back my hair tie. I know you took it."
"Okay, okay. Get off me first, at least!"
"No. You'll just run away."
"Promise!"
There was a moment of cold consideration, and Kanda relented.
"There will be no mercy if you escape."
Odd words to be spoken in that high a voice, but they served their purpose.
Daisya got up gingerly, holding out the alleged piece of string.
"Either this is really important, or you're more violent than that Cross dude the old man talks about."
Kanda snatched back the article, and tied his hair back in a ponytail.
"I can't fight without a hair tie," he muttered defensively
"I think I could argue."
…
There was the thick silence of sleep — breathing patterns hung in the air, and blankets rustled on occasion, but the warm felt of drowsiness covered up most other sounds.
Despite that, Tiedoll kept both an eye and an ear on things.
It was pushing it, to be sure, but he still had enough medication to last for a few more days, and he'd gotten a good amount of sleep during the day. It was better to be safe.
Still, the sheets over him were enticingly comfortable, to his regret. If their hostess decided to pay them a visit, it would require some willpower to get up and greet her.
Nonetheless, his hands felt the outline of the Maker of Eden under his pillow, and caffeine-laced blood coursed through his brain, forestalling any chance of slipping off.
Now, to wait.
oh yes and and thank you very much to waterlit for the comparison ❀(*´◡`*)❀ once i stop blushing, it'll take me a bit to deflate my head.
and to lostinmusation, at first I thought his saviourism was a major part of the story (I watched the anime first), so I decided to take advantage of my error and shift it here.
Finally, in case anyone's confused, Daisya is not the only person to have pushed Kanda off something high to save him, nor is he the only person that suffered as a result.