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Bleached Jester
DGM/Bleach AU
Chapter 1: Never Again
Summary: While Allen Walker's life started off bright and full of cheer, he quickly found his world turned into a quagmire of tragedy and despair. With powers not seen before in the world at his disposal, he must face his destiny and rise above the darkness that plagues him.
And maybe in the end, he can find the light once again…
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This is a DGM/Bleach crossover; Allen Walker with the powers of Ichigo from Bleach. This was a collaboration between me and an individual that wishes to remain anonymous. They had pitched this idea via PM, and after a few rounds of editing, we came up with an outline we enjoyed. This is a slow burn story with an Allen/Lenalee pairing.
Hope you all enjoy!
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I am marking this story as M for Mature, mostly for Kanda's swearing and dark themes.
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Conversation Guide:
"Speaking."
Thinking
Old Man Zangetsu
Memories/flashback.
"Words spoken in flashback."
Thoughts in flashback/memories.
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BLEACHED JESTER
CHAPTER 1: NEVER AGAIN
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Allen huffed, sweat pouring down his face. Up and a little to his right was a handhold that was just slightly out of reach. Bracing his right knee against the cliff face he was currently scaling, he brought his left foot up to a previous handhold, wedging it into place. Then, he leveraged himself up far enough to grasp the new outcropping he aimed for, slowly but surely climbing up the wall.
He certainly had an easier way to get to the Black Order's headquarters, one that didn't rely on him struggling up the side of the plateau the organization called its home, but he found the physical exercise to be soothing. Recent events plagued his thoughts. It was all he could do to stop dwelling on his helplessness.
Never again.
Grunting with effort, he sought the next handhold and pulled himself up.
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When he finally reached the top, Allen was thoroughly drenched with sweat and covered in dirt, the tips of his fingers ragged from digging into the unforgiving terrain. He flopped onto his back, feeling the sword strapped to his back dig into his spine. It was sharp and uncomfortable, but ever since his mother had died, his life had ceased to be soft. Now, that discomfort was merely familiar, a reminder of where he had been and where he was going.
Loosening the tie around his neck that held his shirt tight, he let the gentle breeze cool him down. At this altitude, it was brisk, a sharp contrast temperature-wise from what it had been at the base of the cliff. For a few minutes, he simply laid there, letting the wind ruffle his hair and tug at his clothing. It was cleansing, allowing the clean air to wash over him, but alas, he had a purpose in coming this far. He couldn't laze around now that he was here.
Stumbling to his feet, Allen glanced at the foreboding tower that stood before him. It certainly lived up to its name: The Black Order. A dark and intimidating building, it was creepy in a way that he couldn't explain, grating against his instincts in a manner not unlike the way General Cross had behaved while he was training with the man. But it didn't matter what the place looked like or how it felt. This was where his master had told him to go.
Picking up his briefcase, he squared his shoulders and marched towards the tower, burying his apprehension beneath a layer of determination. After searching for a year, he finally was looking at the end of his first mission. He probably would have gotten here sooner if he'd had a guide, but for all the disparity that had plagued him up until this point, he wouldn't have wished his journey to have gone any different than it had.
He slipped his right hand into his pants pocket, thumbing the watch stashed there, reconsidering that conviction. It was a gift, of a sort, a memento to remind him why he was walking this path with such resolute need. And it was the result of his failures up until this point. Truly, a double-edged sword, but it still brought him comfort. He supposed, in the end, that there were some things that he desperately wished had gone differently, but there was no sense hoping for the impossible.
He had fallen into that trap in the past, too.
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The path from the edge of the cliff to what he assumed was the front gate was short, taking him through a small gathering of trees before spitting him out at the base of the black tower. He frowned as he looked around, feeling eyes on him from everywhere but not seeing their source. His instincts told him that whatever it was posed no threat, but it made the back of his teeth itch in anticipation. He wondered if the Order had cameras in the forest. It would certainly explain the sensation…
Stifling a sigh, he shouted, "Hello?" His voice fell flat in the clearing. "Hello? My name is Allen Walker. I would like to speak with an executive of the Order." He resisted the urge to cross his arms, stuffing his hands into his pockets instead. What was once a nice breeze was biting now that he had cooled off, but he didn't want to seem stand-offish. He turned and looked around again, seeing in the distance something small and fluttering with tiny wings.
It didn't feel alive to his senses, but it was there, nonetheless, gazing at him with mechanical awareness. And when he saw one, he caught sight of the dozens of others all fluttering in the air, high enough up that he would have had trouble seeing them through the canopy in the tiny, wooded area he had passed through.
Ah, so that's what was watching me.
He was about to step towards the closest one and repeat his hail when a shift in the air behind him had him turning back around, reaching over his right shoulder for his sword in the process. The wall itself seemed to come to life, a statue with the appearance of a face animating to focus on him. It felt strange, too. Not quite alive like a person, but it had more of a presence than the flying cameras.
It lurched at him, but Allen dug in his heels, fighting off the urge to draw. Anything he did could be construed as a threat. It was bad enough he had reached for his weapon…
"I will perform the entrance exam in order to determine whether you are human or an akuma!" the statue declared moments before shining a bright light on him. Allen grimaced at the brightness, squinting his eyes against the glare. A few moments passed, the animated wall muttering, "What's wrong with this thing? I can't get a reading…" Allen shifted, the cold wind on the plateau making him shiver. He didn't like the light. It felt wrong, like it was seeing inside of him.
"Failure! Failure! I see pentacles! He's an akuma in disguise!"
"What?!" Allen objected. "No, I'm not! I was trained as an exorcist!" The wall contracted in visual fear, cowering away from him. Allen had no idea how a wall could move in such a way, but here it was, shifting its form as much as was possible.
Allen shifted his feet, falling into a ready stance, albeit reluctantly. He wasn't about to let himself be attacked before he could explain to someone in charge, and there was a rapidly approaching presence that screamed threat.
He felt the man land on the balcony above before he heard him. "You must think you're clever for trying to get in here alone. That, or you're stupid." The man (was that seriously a guy?) stood with a weapon in his hands, staring down at him with a threatening glare, long hair fluttering in the wind. He slowly unsheathed his sword, sending a chill up Allen's spine.
Seriously?! Not even going to let me explain?!
Allen reached back for his sword, barely avoiding the other man's sudden strike, instincts screaming at him to move. Swinging his blade up, he met the follow-up slash, knocking the opposing katana to the side. With a yell, he leaped forward, the other man side-stepping his downward attack. He pivoted, not fully bringing his blade up to block in time, the other male knocking him off balance.
"Tch. Having a bigger weapon doesn't mean you're automatically the better fighter. Especially when your blade is such a brittle thing."
Allen righted himself, noting the knicks in his sword from the other man's attacks. He had never had the blade damaged before. He had no idea what it meant or what he was even supposed to do about it.
"You're weak, and now, I'm going to kill you."
Allen gritted his teeth. He hated to be told that, but just because he didn't want to hear it didn't make it any less true.
"It's strange. So many people sacrificed their lives for your own, yet you are too weak to even deserve death."
The other man lurched forward, his katana snapping towards him in a deadly arc. Allen caught his blade on his own, horrified when his opponent sliced straight through his sword. Allen stumbled backwards from the recoil, even as the weapon he could no longer block cut a painful path across his chest. With a shout of pain, he collapsed to his knees, both hands pressed pitifully against his bleeding wounds, the hilt of his sword dropped and forgotten on the ground in front of him.
It wasn't the first time he had been hurt, but all of his previous injuries had been caused by akuma bullets, never by a sword. It burned in a way nothing else had before, blazing a trail of agony across his chest. Distantly, he knew that he should stand up and face his foe, but part of him wondered why he should even bother. Sure, he had come here with the hopes of getting stronger, but could he really?
Weak.
That's all that he was. Nothing but a pitiful excuse for a fighter. Even Cross had given him shit for his ability (namely the lack of any), but the man had approved of him referring to himself as an exorcist. Now, Allen wondered if the general had simply wanted to be rid of him. After all, if he was so pathetic, he certainly wouldn't have wanted to tarnish his name with such a subpar apprentice…
Allen wasn't aware of his surroundings going gray, of a man stepping out of that haze, until a deep baritone voice asked him, "Do you want to fight? Or are you going to just give up?"
Allen looked up, seeing the world in shades of gray, feeling for all intents and purposes like time had stopped. A man stood before him, a black cloak shifting lazily in a non-existent breeze. Long black hair fluttered gently, a hint of brown appearing where light caught the strands. The stranger had yellow glasses obscuring his eyes, but Allen got the feeling that he was staring at him with a sharp gaze. Despite the rough exterior and stubble gracing the man's jaw, there was a quality of refinement in how he presented himself.
"Who are you?"
"I am Zangetsu. I am your strength, the resolve within yourself to face the hardships of the world. Will you call me? Will we fight together? Or will you choose to die here this day?"
Weak.
It was what he was, but he didn't want that to continue. "I want to fight. I need to get stronger. I don't want to be too weak to protect anyone anymore!" So many people had died because of him, whether that was due to his own poor choices or his lack of ability. Never again. That was what he kept telling himself.
Never again.
"Very well. I will guide you there."
Allen blinked, finding himself right back where he had started. The pain in his chest was less, his hands coming away red, but there was no more bleeding. He stood as if in a daze, grabbing the hilt of his broken sword. He felt strange, like a well of power was rising within him. He felt his body take a stance, his opponent staring at him in apparent disbelief.
Abandon your fear and face your enemy. Zangetsu's voice rang in his ears, as if the old man were standing beside him and speaking. If you retreat, you will age. Hesitate, and you will die. Now, shout out my name!
"Zangetsu!" Allen cried, feeling power crescendo in his body. From his broken sword hilt, a flash of white light erupted, temporarily blinding him. When it faded away, he looked down in awe at the blade in his hand. It was similar to his old one in that it was long (the blade itself was as long as he was tall) but that was where the comparisons ended. This one sort of reminded him of a very large kitchen knife, lacking a guard between the blade and the hilt, the curved edge glinting wickedly in the light.
"What the fuck, Shortstack?" the other man demanded.
Allen rolled his eyes. "My name is Allen."
"I didn't ask."
At some point when Allen had been distracted, a girl that looked around his age had appeared, with brilliant violet eyes and black hair that shined almost dark green where the light struck it. "Kanda," she chided the other male, "my brother found Allen's recommendation letter from General Cross. You can stand down, now." Her voice was firm, stopping any potential argument from being raised. For that alone, to stand up against a man that had cut him down so easily and had such a bad attitude, she was…
Well, she was cute. And very brave.
Allen intended to smile at her, but what came out instead was a grimace as a rush of energy ran down his spine. It felt like it was coming from within, a steady buildup that was demanding release. His hands tightened on Zangetsu's hilt. He couldn't feel his arms anymore.
"I-It's Kanda, right?" Allen asked the other swordsman, trembling with the effort of not raising his sword into the air and hating the stutter in his voice. He was only partially successful, watching as his numb limbs steadily rose regardless.
"If you can't be bothered to pay attention, then you don't deserve to hear it again." The girl gave him a disapproving look.
"Well then, BaKanda," Allen gritted out, making the other man twitch. It seemed he didn't appreciate the nickname. Too bad. Sweat broke out across his face. He could see the tremble in his arms as his sword rose ever higher. "I hope you can deflect this then." Power lightened Zangetsu's deadly edge, making it shine like a beacon. He couldn't hold it back anymore, if he had even been making any progress to begin with.
Kanda darted forward, eyes wide in realization, the flat of his blade connecting with Allen's wrists just as his arms came down, redirecting the thunderous burst of energy at the last second. Just before Allen passed out, he noted that he didn't hit the Order with that attack.
Thank goodness.
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*x*Kanda POV*x*
Kanda could admit to being surprised by the runt's surprise attack, the cacophony of sound deafening him to the world around him, not that he would ever admit that out loud. He didn't know what kind of power the Shortstack had, but it had gouged deep trenches in the earth. Whatever it was seemed to have cost him though, leaving the white-haired boy passed out face down on the ground, his ridiculously long sword beside him.
What a joke…
"Kanda, can you do me a favor and bring the kid down to the lab?" Komui's voice echoed through his golem, the radio call faintly scratching with interference.
He slammed Mugen's blade into its sheathe with far more force than he needed to. "You seriously expect me to drag his sorry ass inside?"
"Now, now, Kanda. Are you saying that you would rather my precious Lenalee carry the poor boy in?"
Kanda gritted his teeth in barely restrained frustration. Of course, he would never force the girl into something like that and the Chief knew it. He wasn't callous enough to put her in that sort of situation, carrying a potential threat deep into their home base, but what did he care if the elder Lee wanted to risk an attack from the inside? "Tch, how annoying," he grumbled, ignoring Komui's gushing thanks.
Lenalee was standing beside him, eyeing the canyons cut into the plateau with a thoughtful look. When she caught him looking, she commented, "I guess it's not so surprising that his attack did this much damage. I mean, he was trained by General Cross." He narrowed his eyes at her. She shrugged. "I just wonder if this means that he is already General class."
He frowned at the unconscious boy. "I doubt it." He leaned down, turning the kid over so that he could slide an arm under his neck and another under his knees, not caring in the slightest that he was being less than gentle. Lenalee shot him a questioning look, seeming to carefully avoid saying anything about his rough handling of the newcomer based on how her eyes shifted away from his charge, so he elaborated to distract her, "He didn't have any control over it." He glared at the sword on the ground. There was no way he was going to carry that, too, despite how light the Shortstack was. Thankfully, Lenalee noticed his predicament and lifted it.
"What do you mean?" Lenalee asked, staring at the sword with a fascinated expression. She appeared stupidly enamored with the blade, but maybe he was just projecting his frustration with this whole situation onto her. Either way, he wasn't all that surprised that she could pick up the weapon. The Shortstack didn't look all that strong.
Shifting the kid in his arms, he started for the main gate. "He couldn't prevent the attack from forming and didn't seem able to change his aim, either. And the very fact that he had passed out afterwards tells me that he wasn't physically prepared for using that power." The boy was weak, both body and mind. He was so easy to enrage. It would be simple for any enemy to take advantage of that.
Lenalee was silent for the moment, hefting the giant sword in what was probably an effort to make it easier to handle. It looked ludicrous in her arms. As they passed through the gate and it closed behind them, the sword faded into non-existence, the blade simply disappearing between one step and the next. Eyes wide in shock, she gave the kid a worried look before glancing at him, like he might have an explanation. He didn't know what to think at this turn of events.
Worrying her lip, Lenalee asked, "Do you think he's a threat despite being Cross's apprentice?"
Kanda resisted the urge to sigh, not wanting to brush off her concerns. They were legitimate, especially after all the surprises the runt had thrown at them thus far. But despite his own hang-ups over the kid and the rumors surrounding Cross's deviances, the man was loyal to the Black Order in a way he would never be himself. There was no way that he would send someone to them that was anything less than the genuine article. "If he doesn't self-destruct, he might just end up being useful, but I wouldn't bet anything on that."
Lenalee smiled. It was a small thing, the corners of her lips quirking up in amusement, but it was there.
And if I'm wrong, and he does end up being a threat, then I'll kill him myself.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Kanda is just too fun to right. Such an asshole, lol!