¯\_(ツ)_/¯
"Why did you leave?"
Daisya couldn't for the life of him remember how he came to be standing in front of his little sister.
He had walked in through the crack, trying to get past the rocks, when the sky had turned silver. Even now, it was shining like a mirror. There was something holding him back, freezing him in place, but not something static. It was a wind that blew around him, somehow hemming him in from all directions and whipping at his bandages. Now, they wove in the air around him like snakes, half covering his eyes and his ears as he held the Charity Bell in one hand and fixed the other one around his wrist. He couldn't let go. He could not let go.
"Why?"
Daisya didn't look down at her. His hood had blown off, and the tail of it was flapping behind him. They'd nearly taken his Charity Bell.
His sister tugged at his cloak, and looked up at him with a tearful expression. A few feet off, their mother stood with arms crossed and a disapproving expression on her face.
"You should come back home."
He'd worked his way through the forest, testing the Innocence. Each direction seemed to hold a different potential; every time he'd chosen his path, the mountains had been the ones that raised the hairs on the back of his neck and made him stop in his track. So of course he'd slowly made his way towards them, zigzagging through the forest, then over a small field to the base of this foothill.
"You don't know what happened to us," his brothers piped up, "We nearly starved."
They spoke in perfect unison. He didn't know where they came from, either. His heart was starting to beat faster again, tugging him away from them.
There was a small cleft in the hillside, covered by rock. When Daisya had ducked under to look, the ground had given way, dropping him under. When he'd hit the rock beneath, he'd tumbled forward, and staggered out into an opening. From above, the light came though, and hit flat grey stone cut through by a creek. Opposite Daisya, a silver tree stretched out of the bare rock.
He couldn't remember much after that.
Another tug on his cloak made him stagger back, and then it was Lenalee standing there.
"Why did you abandon your family?" she asked, "Did you like us better?"
No, no, that wasn't it—
Kanda, standing behind her, glowered at Daisya.
"Don't bother answering. You can't stay here.
"Now, they both seemed to speak with the same voice.
We don't like you."
Hah, was all Daisya could think. I could've told you that.
The images shifted before his eyes. Marie, then the old man, then someone tall whose face he couldn't make out. They writhed, and collapsed.
"Please, come back home."
Daisya's father spoke last, and wearily, as if disappointed.
There was something wrong here, Daisya thought through the haze. Something wrong. But what was it?
His mother, his father, his sister…they were all normal. His brothers, too. And who knew what Lenalee thought?
Something was wrong, something was wrong.
"Don't bother staying…"
"Please, come back."
"Go home."
"Come home."
Daisya was standing in the middle of the forest. There was nothing but forest for miles, around here.
But when Kanda ran close enough to him, the landscape warped.
Daisya was clutching his Innocence in his hands, and staring up at the mountains and a silver sky. His bandages hung in the air around him, as if blown by an intangible storm.
Beneath them, the scars knit together to form a mottled pattern, evidence of the coals that scorched there.
Kanda tried to take a step.
He was frozen to the ground.
"Go home.
"Go home.
"Please come home.
"Don't stay."
The cacophony of voices was deafening, and Daisya couldn't do anything but stare at the seven figures crowding him, closing in on him as the wind whipped a storm around his head.
Louder than everything was the voice of his sister.
"Why did you leave us? Come home…"
And beneath it, another litany took precedence.
"Don't stay with us. Go home."
Kanda.
There was something wrong.
Why was Kanda saying that?
The storm grew louder, but at the same time gave Daisya a window of quietude to think in.
Quick — what's wrong with Kanda?
What do we know about Kanda?
Kanda. Short. Pretty. Likes his hair tie. Likes Marie. Likes Lenalee.
Kanda couldn't care less if the finders died.
Kanda cares if the exorcists die.
Kanda doesn't care about people, but he doesn't want the exorcists to die.
He's weird like that. He's a big old meanie, but he wants the exorcists alive and working.
Hurry up — what about me?
Kanda said he wasn't going to save me.
Kanda said he'd kill me if I was going to die.
Kanda wants the exorcists alive.
Kanda…
…
For a single moment, time unfroze, and Kanda could move again. The dream had faltered.
That was all he needed.
"Mugen, unsheath!"
…
Daisya fell to his knees as the noise redoubled, clapping his hands over his ears at the pain that drilled into his head.
I should go home. I don't belong, I need to go home. Go home. I want to go home…
Something screamed though the air, and Daisya's head jerked up as if pulled by a string.
Through his blurry vision and shaking breaths, he could see something ripping through the seven spectres.
The mirror broke, and the sky shattered in pieces.
Black started to swoop over Daisya, leaving him time for one last thought.
I hate that place.
…
Kanda's feet scrabbled across the rock as he slid, grabbing the front Daisya's collar before he redoubled his speed, dragging the body out of the pile of debris slowly building up around him. After a moment's struggle, he swung up and over his shoulders in a fireman's lift. The entrance to this open cavern was blocked, but it gave way when Kanda, turning a shoulder forwards, rammed through it. Shards of stone scratched at his face, and dust burned his eyes. Daisya would be coming out of this a bit worse for wear, though his own wounds would heal quickly.
Emerging from the tunnel, the landscape Kanda remembered had changed in the time they'd been trapped. The hills that had gradually sloped upwards crumbled, some leaving a narrow path, some falling into the bubbling current of the deep-cut river that seemed to underscore the plain. He'd heard of Innocence protecting himself but - but nothing like this. Now that they'd escaped, it should have quieted down.
Instead–
The feeling of weightlessness his Kanda like a punch between the ribs. Beneath his feet, the earth crumbled and gave way, giving him just a few seconds to jump out of the way.
He could survive this, easy, if he was alone. But with a hundred-pound weight — strike that, hundred and five — on his back, the chances of them both getting out unscathed were smaller. Dragging Marie around was fine on flat ground at a walk, but even a light burden like Daisya would slow him down with these stakes.
He caught his footing again, and his muscles kicked into action. If he kept his momentum up, it would give just a few extra seconds of lift to his jumps.
He'd need them.
–it was trying to kill them.
…
Kanda's limbs burned as he ran, trying to outpace the crumbling rock.
In the few seconds of thought he could spare, he wondered if it was this was enough to keep away the finders, and to generate the illusion of flat ground around both him and Daisya, while still leading them along the narrow strips of solid ground.
This could also be an illusion. No, it was an illusion. Something like this would have eroded the ground to nothing ages ago, drawing together to make a single river.
Probably.
Kanda didn't want to risk it.
He leapt sideways as another crack started to open up beneath his feet. Daisya had to be stone cold passed out right now, didn't he? Why couldn't it be just one of his pranks?
And he just had to be the one to try and do this alone in the first place.
Daisya was a problem.
He looked ahead, and tried to figure out the fastest route back to where he came from. He thought he'd remember the path, but now he was less sure. He could swing right, and head diagonally through the grasslands and into the forest, towards the road. That was fastest, if this was actually the landscape he remembered. If this was an illusion, then he was fucked either way.
A few pebbles slid beneath his feet, and he skidded along the grass, jumping off to avoid tripping. He landed heavily on his right foot, and pushed off to skirt a hole that had opened up beneath him.
After the half-hour of running through this changing maze, he didn't know how much more he could take. If Daisya didn't wake up soon…
And this wasn't Innocence activity, he'd decided. This was something twisted. Maybe the Heart, but maybe something else. Something like what the General had described to him back in Hungary.
Noah.
If that were the case, he was as good as dead. The Daisya he was carrying might not even be Daisya. The Noah might be anywhere, doing anything, being anything. He would be insignificant. The Innocence would have been a trap, if there even was one.
Sweat dripped down his hairline, and he stopped for a moment to catch his breath and slow his pulse.
That was a mistake.
Willing himself back into a run, he glanced around him. To his left, the grassland stretched on for a bit before meeting the trees; to the right, the forest was closer, maybe ten minutes' run away, at most.
The trees, at least, would be a change of scene.
He turned right sharply, and tried to forget the pain.
At his shoulder, a pair of eyes blinked open.
…
It took a minute for Daisya to fully wake up, and when he did, he wished he hadn't. It felt like he was in an old farm cart jolting over as many potholes as the driver could find.
He shut his eyes tight, then opened them again, looking around. Or looking at ground. Same thing, basically. Something was carrying him. And, if his senses were all intact, that something was a human. Someone's bony shoulder was poking into his chest, and one arm each (those were bony, too) hooked around his knee and elbow kept him from falling off.
Daisya's heart nearly stopped when a crevasse split the ground beneath them.
Thankfully, he wasn't the only one who reacted quickly. His carrier had stumbled for a moment, but managed to get a grip on the air. They leapt over it easily, recovering his footing even with the extra weight on his shoulders. They were fast. Fast, bony…come to think of it, the ground seemed to be a little close as well. Short. Whoever it was had to be stronger than any normal human.
Which meant…
"Kanda?"
His carrier skidded for a moment, knocking the breath out of Daisya, before balancing and continuing the pace.
"What is it?" Kanda shouted through gritted teeth. Man, he seemed angry.
Then again, he was running from a really powerful illusion-creating, reality-warping thingamajig of divine origin. With Daisya on his back. He had some reason.
"Can you put me down?"
"Only if I don't stop running."
Daisya thought for a moment, and tried to gauge his own balancing skills.
"Tell you what, could you hold on to my right wrist with your left hand when I count to three?"
"What–"
"I'll have to step on your right shoulder a bit, but I think I'll be fine. Okay, one, two, three…"
Daisya heaved himself up, planted his foot on Kanda's shoulder, and leapt off him in the space of a second. He was quite proud of the manoeuvre himself. Kanda's grip on his wrist pulled him forwards, and he hit the ground running.
"I hate you," Kanda muttered.
"Oh, that's mean," Daisya retorted, laughing. "Do you know what happened? I can't remember much."
"No. Just shut up. This probably isn't even real, but I'm not taking a chance."
Man, Kanda was angry. Not even happy angry. Just angry.
"You don't belong…"
The crowbar of recognition pried open the door of fatigue, and Daisya stumbled.
What had happened? Why had some Innocence been able to do something that powerful?
Something about it felt like the town back in Hungary.
"Daisya, hurry up!"
Kanda tugged at Daisya's wrist as they passed into the forest. The tamping sound of shoes on soil and dry grass was replaced by crunching leaves and snapping branches.
A cut landed on Daisya's cheek, narrowly missing his eyes.
"Kanda! I think I remember what happened," he shouted against the wind that had whipped up around them.
"What? Is that important right now?"
"Yeah, I think–"
Daisya's reply cut off as the ground disappeared beneath their feet.
In midair, time seemed to stop. So there had been a bit of a canyon, where the river dropped down to run along the side of the forest.
Daisya barely had time to think, even so.
"Innocence, activate!"
The Charity Bell flew through the air, and this side of the rock bluff started to crumble, falling and turning first to sand, then to dust.
…
Kanda just enough time to react.
They were falling. A din was ringing out in his ears, but he could just make out the collapse of the cliffside, and the oddly neutral expression on Daisya's face. Not a grin, but just a slight frown, as if in concentration. He seemed to be staring past Kanda, not even noticing him.
Funny. Normally Daisya seemed to laugh in the face of—
—danger.
Daisya had tightened his grip, and beneath Kanda, had almost protectively curled around him.
It took a second for his reflexes to kick in, but there was still time.
He pulled Daisya in, reversing their position, and hit the ground first.
The loose dirt was softer than rock; still, it was more than enough to splinter his ribs.
But Daisya didn't need to know that.
…
Some hours later, a girl of about twelve hopped along the bluff, skirted the Innocence she'd hidden, and the corners of her mouth turned down.
"Aw," she whined, wringing her hands around her umbrella, "Don't tell me someone else got here first."
"Well, I don't think it was the circus," the umbrella answered anxiously, "But, uh, you never know."
The girl looked even more disappointed than before.
"No, you're probably right."
She started swinging the umbrella around in circles.
"And now Tyki's going to be all smug about my traps not working. That really sucks."
"Yes, mistress, very much."
The girl skipped, despite her downcast face, and hummed a tune that scraped across the nerves like the bow of a violin.
…
"No."
Daisya's hand froze, about to knock on Kanda's door.
"Just wondering if you were doin' anything," he muttered, "And how'd you know it was me?"
"One, you make too much noise, two, you're one of about five people who come up here to bother me, and three, you're the only one with that accent."
Daisya leaned against the door, and tapped his fingers on it.
"Yeah, whatever," he said softly, "Well? You doing anything or not?"
"What would I be doing?"
"Beats me. Playing solitaire?"
Daiysa heard a sigh of annoyance, and promptly fell over as the door opened into him.
"What were you doing?"
Daisya winced, and looked up into Kanda's sullen face. He'd already closed the door behind him, but Daisya was prepared to bet money that there was a game of solitaire underway inside the room.
"I was just standing there. Got a problem?"
"Yeah."
"And that is?"
"You were standing there."
Daisya pulled himself to his feet.
"Sor-ry. Hey, you look pretty good, considering you just fell off a cliff."
"It was nine metres. I'm not that weak."
Kanda's eyes were shifting sideways. He wasn't feeling too well. Hell, he hadn't even tried to blame it on Daisya.
Now was probably a bad time to bother him, then, if Daisya wanted to come out of this without any unnecessary pain.
"Well, thanks, anyway," he said simply.
Kanda looked at him suspiciously.
"For, uh, taking the fall. As it were. I've got some painkillers if you want them."
Daisya opened his hand and held it out, showing a small glass vial of tablets.
Kanda just looked blank.
Man, he was acting really weirdly.
"I'm starving, so see ya later."
Daisya tossed the vial to Kanda, who caught it reflexively, and turned to walk away.
"Daisya–"
The shred of sound caused Daisya to whip back around. He was more tense than he should be. Heck, even his heart rate was going up. Kanda was pretty scary.
He was just lying to himself by now, and he knew it.
"What?"
"Your shoes are covered in mud. Quit tracking it all over the place."
Daisya grinned.
"Have fun cleaning it up."
He didn't see the look of indignant rage on Kanda's face, having turned to run before Kanda could retaliate.
Even if he hadn't turned, he wouldn't have seen it.
It wasn't there.
Kanda's fingers closed around the vial, hard enough to make his knuckles whiten.
That damn Daisya.
Why did he always try to have the last word?