I've sort of been making this up as I go along, but from this point onwards it's a lot more improvised than it has been, so forgive me for the drop in quality and frequency of updates. I'll probably revisit these chapters sometime, but for now, I'm just keeping it moving. Slowly. Sorry about the long breaks between chapters, but I should have a break in homework by the end of the month. Or not, you never know.
Side note: there was this kid in grade eight who I shall not name, but he did us the wonderful favour of accidentally hitting the most annoying kid in class right over the head with a soccer ball as he passed the field where the soccer mod was playing. Other side note: I couldn't resist using Kanda's catchphrase just once.
Anyhow, thanks to those who reviewed! Without further ado...
The Road Onwards, Chapter 1
Daisya wandered through the cafeteria with a stride that made his full soup bowl a miracle.
After weaving through the hordes of finders, he dropped his tray down at a table of young-looking exorcists. There were a couple of girls a year or two older than him — sisters, maybe? One of them looked pretty tired, with big black circles under a pair of equally big eyes, and the other one might have looked the same, if her skin wasn't so bronzed as to hide it. Next to them was a Spanish-looking boy about the same age as the cheery Chinese girl sitting next to Kanda, nose-deep in what looked like a book of jokes. Occasionally, he told one to the tanned girl, who chuckled only for a moment. They were never very good.
The older ones were clustered at the other end of the table. Two girls and a boy were chatting in an insistent, low murmur. Headquarters was a pretty exciting place, but these guys didn't seem to be enjoying it nearly as much as they should have. One of the girls was braiding her blonde hair, the other staring off into space with one pale hand holding a mug and the other under the table, and the dark-skinned boy with braided hair was darning a pair of socks. Boring, boring, boring.
That left Kanda, sitting across from him, and the small girl next to Kanda. The one he'd heard refused to synchronize for a while. She seemed pretty interesting.
"It's way too crowded in here," he muttered though a mouthful of bread, "Isn't there anywhere else to sit?"
"No."
"Too bad. Want to play a game after?"
"No."
Daisya sighed. Even Kanda was being boring, now.
"Aww, come on. I haven't played in ages."
Kanda looked away in exasperation, and rapped the table twice.
"''Twas but a fleeting dream," Daisya muttered, trying out some of the words he'd been reading. Oh, well, at least Kanda'd used more than one way to say 'no.'
"Don't."
As usual, Kanda considered himself clairvoyant. He was right, of course, that Daisya just wanted to use the words he'd learned from the plays Tiedoll had given him, but that was beside the point. He had a right to use fancy words, too. They made stuff more interesting.
He quickly finished up his meal. The stuff here was darn good, even if old Cookie still held a grudge regarding that incident with the cake batter.
"Anyone here want to play some football?" he called, craning his neck to see the end of the table.
He could hear Kanda getting up to leave, for whatever reason. Everyone else seemed to take the same path of ignoring him. The big-eyed girl shot him a tired stare, without any contempt or exasperation to spice it up.
"Come on," he whined under his breath, turning back to the front.
"What's football?"
The timid girl across the table had leaned forward, and moved sideways into Kanda's spot.
Ah! There was a lone flower or thistle or something in a field of boring grass.
"It's a game. You kick a ball around. You any good at kicking things?"
The girl nodded vigorously.
"I think so."
"Okay. Do you want me to teach you, then?"
She nodded again, this time haltingly. She seemed to have gotten a bit less shy during the weeks he and Kanda were away.
"I guess. My brother says I should do more things with the other exorcists."
Daisya grinned.
"Yeah, he's probably right. If you don't, you'll end up like Kanda."
The girl looked confused, and twisted a strand of her hair around one of her fingers. Her expression looked slightly taken aback, like a kitten's when it can't figure out why it can't catch the sunbeam.
"But Kanda's nice…"
Daisya could have burst out laughing there and then. Kanda? Nice?
"What's your name again, by the way? I think I forgot it."
"I'm Lenalee Lee."
"That's a nice name. A lot of 'lee's' Are you a crybaby?"
The expression of confusion returned.
"No…I don't think so. Am I?"
Daisya hopped up from the table, and stretched his arms above his head.
"I'll take that as a 'no.'"
"Okay."
He wandered over to Lenalee, and offered a hand.
"And are you boring?"
"I don't know. No one ever tells me if I am."
Lenalee took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
"Well, that'll have to do for now. Follow me!"
The two exorcists went running through the tables, out towards the back field. Well, one ran, the other one hopped along in his wake, as if not quite registering what was going on yet.
...
"Okay, so basically all you need to do is get it between those rocks," said Daisya authoritatively, pointing at the makeshift goalposts, "I'll tell you the rules later.
Lenalee nodded. She didn't look like she'd be too strong yet, but she'd insisted on backing up quite a ways.
"What are you waiting for?"
"Er, nothing."
Lenalee stopped staring at the goalposts, and took a swing at the ball, which took off at an alarmingly sharp angle, at least six metres straight up.
Daisya looked on as it arced through the air, flying past the field and over the heads of the fighters punching at sandbags twenty metres over.
He stood on his tiptoes to see the final trajectory of the ball, and grinned before addressing Lenalee. For some reason, he kept his eyes fixed on the field where the ball had landed.
"You know…" Daisya began thoughtfully, "I think…"
"What? Did I do it wrong?" Lenalee asked nervously.
She stood up on her tiptoes to try and see where the ball had landed, and winced.
"Oh, I did."
"Nope, not at all," said Daisya cheerfully, "I was just about to say that maybe, if I work really hard, I might be as good as you at this. But how about I say I did this one for now? I can't be saying I got beat by an eight-year-old."
"Um, okay…"
Her response was forestalled by the ball whipping back at them with all the inhuman strength Kanda could muster, followed by the unfortunate Kanda himself.
Daisya sidestepped, and roundhouse kicked the ball to the ground before it broke any bones. He grinned.
"So you changed your mind?"
Kanda came skidding to a halt in front of him, visibly holding himself back.
"Yeah," he growled, "I think I'm going to kill you now, instead of later."
Lenalee held up a hand.
"Um…"
"Well, why don't you try to beat me first?"
"Hey, guys…"
"No way in hell!"
"Excuse me…"
Daisya waved a gesturing hand at Kanda, and turned to face Lenalee.
"See? You don't wanna end up like him."
"Tch."
Kanda's expression was the epitome of contempt.
Lenalee smiled, in an attempt to ameliorate things.
"Kanda, why don't you play with us, if you're over here anyway? It should be fun."
Kanda was unimpressed.
"Yeah, right. It's not a good idea to be anywhere near Daisya, you know. He talks too much."
Lenalee appeared to consider this, then turned to Daisya.
"If he plays with us, will you be quiet?"
Daisya grinned, and nodded.
"Sure. Anything to get him to play, of course."
Lenalee turned back to Kanda.
"See? It'll be fine. And I promise I won't talk too much either."
Kanda sighed, and glared at Daisya.
"Have you even taught her the rules?"
"Nope. But you don't really need them with three people, right?"
"She should still learn them."
Daisya rocked back and forth on his heels.
"Fine, if you want to."
Ten minutes later, and it was Lenalee and Kanda against Daisya. Rather an unfair match, if Daisya did say so himself. Winning all the time was boring.
Another ball shot at the goal, and he blocked it effortlessly, and shot it back to Kanda.
"Want a replay? I'm sure you'll do better this time–"
He jumped up as the ball whizzed by, letting it hit his shoulder before kicking it to Lenalee, who had taken the position of defense.
"You want to try?" he asked slyly, "You might be better than Kanda, though that ain't saying much."
"Daisya..."
The ball soared through the air, this time upwards instead of outwards, and landed heavily on Kanda's head for a second time. Daisya nearly cackled in glee: Kanda's fists clench hard enough to make his skin even whiter. Lenalee had achieved by accident what he suspected would take months to accomplish. Hopefully this wasn't just beginner's luck.
He was talking about hitting Kanda over the head, but having enough of a hold over Kanda to make him hold his rage for a moment could fit too.
Daisya kicked the ball up, then balanced it on his knee.
"Okay, I think it's my turn. Watch out!"
...
An hour or so later, Daisya had narrowly avoided several bloody noses and been a bit too slow to avoid one of them; Kanda had nearly overloaded his system with bottled-up rage; and Lenalee had proved she was to be reckoned with when it came to kicking force, if not aim.
"All right! Wanna go again?" Daisya asked, enjoying the after-effects of morphine both endogenous and artificial.
Kanda took a look at him, made a facial expression Daisya wished he could replicate, and slowly walked off. Lenalee looked slightly guilty.
"I think I should probably go back, too. My brother says I shouldn't strain myself."
"Oh, okay. Thanks for playing, by the way. You could be really good, if you practiced a lot."
Lenalee looked slightly bashful.
"I'm only really good at it because of my Innocence," she said quietly, "I have to be good at kicking."
Daisya shrugged.
"Doesn't change that you're as good as Kanda, and you're not creepily strong like him. Wanna play again sometime?"
"Maybe," Lenalee said, turning to walk away, "See you at dinner!"
She broke into a light run, and Daisya decided that maybe it was time to get a cloth. His shirt was starting to stain red.
He grabbed a small vial from his pocket, popped a couple of tablets in his mouth, and started to run in the direction of the laundry.