A Kanda and Allen One Shot fanfiction
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Hoshino Katsura. And the title and lyrics quote at the top belong to my favorite band, The Birthday Massacre.
We're all dancing to the same sad song.
And we're not sleeping, but it won't take long.
Unbeknownst to many was the love shared between two distinct individuals.
He was a young boy whose kindness and determination to save reignites even the most pessimistic of mentality.
And he was a dispassionate exorcist whose awareness of his former past strives to distance himself from the world and people around him.
They had been pulled together, interweaved by the crossing passage of fate and circumstance, and enchained by giving themselves to each other.
Allen Walker. A kind disposition embraces him both in spirit and in conviction. He lives with a strong fortitude of the mind to protect the smiles of everyone around him and the smile of his father, Mana Walker, who lives on in his memory. They have willed him the strength to withstand the weight of world salvation and given him courage to relentlessly pursue the path as the Destroyer of Time, which has been preordained by fate.
Kanda Yuu, a rare specimen of the Second Exorcist Project. A survivor, at best. He was the pride of the scientists of the Black Order, the epitome of success. They had revived him, utilizing everything they could, out of the desperate need to harness greater power against their enemy – The Earl of Millennium. The experiment had been done at the expense of his memories, though it has remained unclear if it had been deliberately sealed off in the process for weak images of his past managed to find its way back and when questioned, they had refused to divulge in him anything.
He became troubled, angry and frustrated at himself for having little to no recollections of his past. It impeded understanding of his former identity and of himself as he was now. The knowledge of him living on borrowed time however, and time severely constricted by the count of the slow withering Lotus, had transformed him as he converted all the pent-up frustrations and anger into motivation to seek for the girl that had once too often revisited his memory. That in itself was the purpose he had lived for.
Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered.
He didn't believe in human relationships. Being part of a Utilitarianism society, living in it, and worst, being aware of being used, inevitably his trust in men had fallen to rock bottom. He couldn't understand the necessity of forming, what he had called, gratuitous inclinations to feel needed and loved when it so clearly manifested mutual exploitation. His heart darkened, emotions staled. He wore a cold front to impede those who attempted to approach him, effectively denying himself of any possibility of forming friendships or relationships.
It was strange thus, with a slight push from fate, that Kanda should meet Allen, one whose purpose to live was very much dissimilar from his, and he had began to question the need for human relationships for it seemed to be the essence of the young boy's resolution.
He had watched how hard Allen battled, face full of conviction and burning passion, and it'd puzzled him. Why does he work so hard for a society that was so patently utilitarian in principle and in notion? How does fighting for others benefit him?
But benefitting or living for oneself has never once been on Allen's mind, Kanda had been quick to comprehend. Allen fought because he wanted to protect those he loved and to save the fallen souls. It was infectious. Allen's selflessness was infectious. His resolve to search for his past, and make sense of it, had began to falter. And his heart had began to stir. Emotions once stale took root in the emptiness of his own existence.
At first, he had been convinced that the memories he shared with others was sufficient to answer the void, and that fighting for such a cause was a good enough reason. But it was not, the void has yet to be filled, for the hollowness had continued to exist, continued to grow, within his being.
For that, he could not see. He could not feel. He had been unconsciously suppressing his emotions, sealing them away, so that he could deny the emptiness of his heart and continue living the life which he had cut off from others.
But there was one person who had made his way into his world, lifted the emotional blockade, and embraced the loneliness with his joy and optimism, filling in the void with love.
That someone was Allen Walker.
Kanda could never quite track down the day when he had first revealed a little of his heart and his past to Allen. He could never understand why he had done so.
Allen had said it was the one time when they were dispatched to a mission together as a team, and Kanda had acted as a shield for him, taking the bullet shots from an insurmountable hordes of Akumas, and his injuries were so severe it had taken him longer than usual to recuperate and Allen, fraught with worry and distress at having been the cause of it, took upon himself to nurse Kanda back to health. They had spent days residing at a village inn, Kanda seeping in and out of consciousness, all this while Allen had personally tended to his wounds, gently removing the blood soaked bandages and dressing him in new ones. He'd noticed the blemish, black with irregular contours, crawling all over Kanda's left shoulder, and his inquisitive hackles rose. He'd then incessantly prodded the exorcist, asking time and time again of its origins and the effects, and Kanda had finally relented, divulging in Allen the true account of his 'birth'.
Kanda would smile, whenever he reflected back to the incident, amused that Allen's constant pushing and pushing had enabled him to forcibly make his way past the cold exterior and into his heart.
But at times, Kanda had said it was Allen's genuine and selfless worry for him that warmed him, shaking and moving the depths of the emotions he once believed to have sealed away.
Kanda would return from his mission to find Allen waiting for him, shivering visibly from the cold in the dark.
"What are you doing, beansprout?" Kanda asked coldly.
"I-I was… I was waiting for you."
Kanda narrowed his eyes. "Whatever for? Have you become so incompetent your duties to have been relegated to a gatekeeper job?"
"No!" Allen yelled. He balled his hands into fists and in a very earnest tone, continued. "I just wanted to make sure you're back home, safe and sound. I just wanted to watch you come home."
Allen's head was bowed low but still, he could see the smile in Kanda's voice.
"I'm home, Allen."
Neither could ever agree on the true origins of their love, because obliviously, at some point in time, Allen had already fallen hard in love for Kanda, and Kanda for him.
But Allen was certain, he was certain that his love for Kanda first took roots on the return journey, when the feelings of regret and lament got the better of him and he'd been murmuring in his sleep, Kanda had provided him the solace to pour out those bottled up feelings.
Allen has been fighting so hard, for so long, and left so detached from the self he'd first recognized, he could barely breathe for his soul. His relentless pursue to validate Hevelaska's prediction of him being the Destroyer of Time was consuming him - consuming his identity, making him vulnerable to external forces and it'd impressed upon him the need to undergo continuous transformation to meet the Order's demanding expectations of his power. His optimism remained intact, but cracks were slowly breaking through the unwavering smile, it was not insusceptible to the emotional ordeal of the war between the Black Order and the Earl of Millennium.
The cracks grew larger, bigger, and with each day, each passing second, watching the cold bodies of his comrades carried into the hall, the once tenacious optimism had began to dissipate. He could no longer see himself in the mirror and smile earnestly.
The war was killing him.
It tore him apart.
And one day, he had simply stopped smiling.
Grief and regret were shoved under the guise of his smile, it grew along with the darkness lurking in his heart, for in every hard battle won against the Earl was at the expense of millions of innocent lives. It'd dawned on him that he wasn't fighting for salvation, he was not saving anyone, at all. He saw himself as nothing more but a puppet on strings – living and acting exactly the way the Earl had planned him to be – and perhaps, a tool of destruction for the Black Order, as well.
It angered him.
His vision blurred, he could not see the future which was prophesized for him.
Salvation for the world? Or, salvation for themselves? What did they expect from him? Could he still save anyone?
With more deaths, his hands became stained with blood. And it seemed, no matter how hard he washed, the metallic smell would never leave. Phantasmagoric visions haunted him, unremittingly. He could hear the cries of the departed, the villagers whom he could not save, and the cries of those who was left without a kin, a family, their loved one.
And every night, he would whisper, over and over, begging for forgiveness.
The haunting never ceased, it could never, for his heart was so deeply conflicted and torn from within, it needed someone to pick up the fallen shards, mend it and embrace it with love.
And Kanda had been the one to hear and answer the pleas of the waning heart.
They had been sent on a mission together and were abroad a returning train back to the headquarters. Allen had been murmuring in his sleep, as he always does in his room at night, begging for forgiveness and begging to be left alone. He'd clenched his fists tightly, and shaking, curling up in the corner of his seat.
The murmurs did not go unnoticed by Kanda for he had settled himself down beside Allen and, grabbing hold of Allen's hands, held the small hands in his own large owns.
'It's alright, it's alright to forgive yourself. Forgive yourself, Allen.'
Allen's shaken frame ceased, and his countenance was one of relieve.
The ghostly faces of the deceased was slowly dispersing and they were smiling, thanking him for trying his best. And Allen had been crying, still unable to forgive himself but nevertheless finding the weight on his heart considerably lightened.
When he'd opened his eyes, he found himself crying, and his head resting on Kanda's shoulders. His hands too were held gently in Kanda's palms. The warmth and the relieve he'd felt in his dreams came from the very same man who was sleeping before him.
Allen still smiled when the memory flashed across his mind, never would he have known that the nonchalant exorcist could exhibit such acts of kindness and concern, and that he, like Allen, had fallen in love on some level.
And these very same acts of kindness and concern were once again brought to the fore when he, Allen, for some compelling reason had paid a visit to Kanda's room and literally sought for his company to pass the night.
Kanda had found Allen knocking on his door, and asked if he could borrow some of his time to accompany him until he falls asleep for the haunting visions have yet to cease entirely, and that his presence brought him solace.
In truth, Allen did not harbor high hopes, and he had been hesitant in asking for something so ridiculous and so embarrassing. But he could not sleep, he could not close his eyes without hearing the incessant cries, and seeing distorted faces of those he had failed to save. Certain he was that Kanda would believe him to be delirium in the state of mind and turn down his ludicrous request, he'd began to walk away, head bent down in reprimanding shame.
"Come in, beansprout."
Allen swiftly spun his heels and looked at him, blatant surprise etched on his face.
"I won't repeat myself," said Kanda, and he began walking back into his room, his door left open.
What possessed him to allow Allen a room in his bed, Kanda could never tell, but there was one thing he was certain of - they had both sought after warmth, comfort and company, which have once felt so inexorably out of reach, so that they could live on in the world feeling the other's presence, feeling the other's support.
In those short hours of the night, Kanda had watched over Allen's sleeping frame, he provided the solace Allen needed, and in return, Allen dissolved the emptiness in his heart.
They had both convinced themselves that a night spent was suffice to satiate their needs and when daylight was awash, they'd resumed to putting up facades; facades which they had created out of the need to withstand and to confront the pain of living.
Chancing upon the other, their masks would slip off momentarily, and within those short brief moments, they could see the pained expression reflected in their eyes. But the façade never failed to resurface, feigning ignorance and suppressing thoughts of the night before, they had both walked away, taking different routes.
Nights would come again, and the same hollowness, the same emptiness would engulf them in the darkened measure of time.
Allen stirred, shifting restlessly on his bed, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the man who had provided him solace. His eyes lingered on every dark corners.
He felt so… alone.
For days, the need to hear, to touch, and to feel the other's presence has become so deeply entrenched in his heart and in his mind, he was simply left more dejected than before.
And for what seemed like an eternity, Allen, discarding all sense of logic and self-justifications, had made his way to Kanda's room, hoping – just hoping – Kanda might let him stay for one more night. That was all he wanted, just one more night, one last time to comfort his troubled soul and to affirm these unfamiliar feelings of desire.
But now, standing before Kanda's room, Allen had half the mind to spin his heels and leave. He was afraid, so afraid the man would reject him for, in his current weakened state of mind, he could no longer hold in his disoriented emotions.
What happened next however had blown away the uncertainty and distraught.
The door opened, slowly, revealing a tall, well-built stature.
Kanda was there, he had been waiting for Allen.
It seemed almost too sudden, too quick for neither of them to comprehend, for a floodgate of emotions had been released, and they were caught in the surge.
Kanda had his lips pressed against Allen's, kissing him fervently, and his arms wrapped around the petite frame. He held him close, yet so gently, as one would to protect a flower. And Allen, weak in his knees, had been falling, falling into his gentle embrace.
They tasted each other hungrily, feverishly, and as the kiss deepened, so did the warmth embracing their empty hearts. It chased away the ill visions, the void and the pain. It made the other feel alive. It was a course of which neither could live without. They needed each other. They needed to feel, to hold and to touch the other so they might live on to the end of their time on earth.
And so every day, when twilight fades, they would both find themselves in each other's arms. The heart once cold and steel was beginning to feel warm, and in return, Kanda's love became a refuge to mend Allen's broken dreams and passion.
Allen had given him purpose; purpose to fight so that he may protect the person most dearest to him. And Kanda ignited in Allen his past hopes. He had picked up the fallen shards, mended it, and embraced it with love.
They held each other so close, so dear to their hearts that they could wish for nothing more but to protect what they had achieved together as one who was entwined through fate and circumstance.
They gave themselves to each other.
The pain, the hurt, and the bitter cold – all were replaced with love.
But the love they shared was ephemeral – it was never meant to last. Not for this lifetime, not when fate, pulling them together, also pulled them apart by a thrust of power equally strong.
One evening, Kanda, having returned from his mission, was in the supervisor's office and relating to them the results of his battle. They thanked him for yet another successful job done, and requested him to pass a letter of deployment to his comrade, Allen Walker. The front was engraved with the seal of a personnel from the higher order, asserting its high priority and covert operation. It faintly disturbed him, though he could not place a finger why, and after making his way back to his room, he quickly tore off the seal and read the contents of the letter.
It was an official mission deployment letter; the instructions stated that Allen was to depart forthwith and travel to a neighbouring city, where he was to make contact with a chancellor who has in years provided the Order with war espionage.
He read it over and over, running his eyes over the minute details and the signatories it bear.
The contents of the letter casted shadows in the parameters of his acumen, but there was very little evidence to substantiate a doubt based on intuition - he knew that perfectly well… yet, he could not disregard the heavy weight that rested on his heart.
What must he do so that he may protect Allen? What can he do?
He crushed the letter in his palms.
"Welcome back, Kanda!" A cheerful familiar voice suddenly intoned, breaking his reverie. Allen was smiling, elated at seeing his lover return home safe and sound, but the smile quickly faded when he saw a piece of white parchment in his hands.
"You're leaving on another mission, aren't you?"
He rushed to Kanda's side, whose face threw a hard cast at the ground.
"Where are you going this time, and for how long?" Allen asked, a hand clinging to Kanda's shirt sleeve. He peered into his countenance, and saw nothing but a twinge of sadness reflected in his eyes.
A cold shot pierced through his chest.
Allen remembered seeing this expression before, it was the same look Kanda wore when he had first spoken to him about the lotus in the hourglass, and how it determined the duration of his life. A prescribed circumstance, one which Kanda, and only him, must bear for it was his curse – his curse for living. Allen hated it. He hated how weak and powerless he felt, watching the petals fall lifelessly, knowing he could do nothing to preclude the death that lurks around every corner.
And at this precise moment, the same feeling of helplessness washed over him again, cutting him off from his lover, as if an impenetrable wall has been raised between Kanda and him. And even if he was to reach out, break down, or try to make his way over the wall, Kanda would be looking away.
"Why won't you say anything?" Allen clenched his fists, fighting hard to hold back the tears. "Why won't you tell me anything?"
"Do you keep silent because you have nothing to say to me, or simply because you don't want to? Why, Kanda, why do you always have to do this to me?" Tears were falling now. "...Why? First it was the lotus... and now this... "
"Allen," Kanda called again, a little desperately this time. "Just what are you saying?"
"I-I...I don't..know anymore...Kanda.." His lips quivering as he spoke. "I don't know."
"Allen, listen to me." Kanda grabbed hold of his arms, forcing his lover to look at him. It pained him to see his loved one so distraught, so wrought with trepidation. He needed to be firm. He needed to be strong for Allen. "This mission will be a short one. I will be back. Trust my words on this. I will be back, I promise you."
"Then take me with you," Allen peered into his eyes, searching. "Kanda, take me with you. I know you will go no matter what I say. So please, take me with you on this mission."
Kanda was silent.
Discontented and worried, Allen hurried on, "If you don't.. I-I'll follow you! I won't keep you out of my sight, and I'll follow you!"
"Alright," he said, finally. "We'll leave tomorrow. Together."
"Really? You promise you won't leave without me?"
"I promise you, Allen. I promise you." And with those words, Kanda took him in his arms, pressing his lips against Allen's.
When they broke apart for air, Kanda was regarding him with the gentlest of smiles and, breathing softly into his ear, he whispered, "Let me hold you."
Kanda gently placed him on the bed, slipping off Allen's clothes and then his own. They kissed fervently, ardently, their lips never once parting. He held Allen's petite frame close, tightly, feeling the heat and the warmth emitting from every pore.
When Allen was ready, Kanda entered him, moving deeper and deeper. And their bodies moved together, coming together, feeling a wave of pure pleasure rising and breaking over them.
The room was filled with heat, passionate and tender lovemaking, words of love and of promise whispered through the air.
When exhaustion finally caught up with them, they remained lying on the bed, resting in each other's arms. Kanda gently caressed Allen's face, eyes soft and kind.
"I love you."
"I love you too, Allen."
And Allen smiled, eyes slowly closing, allowing slumber to consume him.
"Goodnight, my love." Kanda whispered, pressing Allen's body close to his and closing his eyes so that he could stop the tears that have fallen. "Goodnight."
His heart was aching, it seemed to tear and sear from within. But he remained silent, still and composed, spending the night watching his loved one sleep so peacefully.
This would be his last. This would be the last time.
Rapidly and heartrendingly the hours flew by, and when the first rays of sunlight came streaming through the windows, Kanda kissed Allen softly on his forehead, whispering over and over his words of love, and to forgive him for breaking his promise.
Casting one last, longing look at Allen, he left.
It was raining when Allen finally awoke, he had found himself alone in the empty room, his lover nowhere in sight. And the cruel revelation of reality was fast to hit him, he felt his heart stop, he knew where Kanda had gone to.
Kanda had left.
And he was abandoned.
The promise. His promise. It was all a lie.
But he had known it then. He knew Kanda spoke of only lies when he'd consented to him coming along. He knew because he could feel, he could see that sadness and regret flickering in his eyes. It meant that Kanda had longed made up his mind on this and would, in every tenacious streak in his being, see to its successful execution, and he, Allen, was not part of it – he couldn't be because this was a mission Kanda had decided to take upon himself.
A multitude of emotions - anger, concern, fear – came coursing through him, he trembled, hands over his face to stop the tears that seem to fall uncontrollably.
He wished he could of at least done something for Kanda. Kanda shouldn't have to bear everything on his own, Allen thought, he didn't have to hold it all in for me.
He felt so helpless then, staring around the vacant space.
Shadows were shifting restlessly with the pelting rain, they crawled from the windows, and extended above the ceiling, enveloping the room with black skeleton fingers. They clutched the figure that had curled up against the wall, but with a sudden bellowing of the thunder, the fingers dissolved, the flash of light illuminated the room albeit temporary. It was then Allen saw the letter that has been left for him.
Quickly, he leaped from the bed and, with shaking hands, he opened the letter and read it, eyes darting back and forth. His heart sank deeper and deeper with each passing line, and with each passing second.
And finally, when it felt as though his heart could withstand it no longer, his legs gave way.
"You don't seem very pleased to me, Chancellor." said Kanda, looking at the gentleman levelly. "Or rather, should I call you...the Earl?"
The man laughed, deep and cruel. "You are a rather smart boy, I must say, to figure out I had a spy placed within the highest ranks of your impenetrable Black Order society. And yet, you took the bait knowingly..." The Earl scrutinized him. "You have the look of a man who would formulate plans before executing an action. You are alone, are you not? If so, how can you look so calm and composed knowing you're staring at death in the face?"
"I won't let you have him, Earl." Kanda's voice was steel. " I won't allow you to lay a finger on Allen."
The Earl smiled a cruel smile, "Well then, boy, let's set the clock, and watch how long you can last against my lovely creations."
Behind him, hordes of Akumas hovered midair in the dark sky, faces plastered with malevolence.
There was an explosion, buildings groaned as they collapsed, and windows cracking and smashing and falling in shards on the ground.
And then, it was over.
The sound of a metal sword clinked heavily on the floor… that was all.
None, but the higher-ups involved in the war espionage, would have known that on that fateful day, Kanda had proceeded to the supervisor's office and, in a steel, composed tone, informed them of a mole planted within the highest command of authority in the Order. He produced to them the mission letter, revealing the contents, and proved beyond a reasonable doubt that his reservations was not to be dismissed.
Very grudgingly did the superiors agree to the validity of his suspicions, and questioned him of his intention to resolve the issue he had brought up.
Kanda resolutely requested to be dispatched to this mission, in the place of Allen Walker, so that he may source out the root of evil intent.
When further enquired on the means of which he will execute this mission, Kanda had told them, very calmly, "Death. My death will validate my suspicions."
They had given him their consent. Allen Walker was a soldier too precious, and too important, to lose. His identity as the Fourteen could mean a greater boost in power for the Black Order. And Kanda, to them, was a scientific revolution created out of the need to protect that power.
Kanda was appreciative. He was appreciative that he could protect his loved one. Even if it meant the end of time for him, his life would have purpose if he could live, and die for someone he loved so dearly.
He was Kanda Yuu, a man reconstructed in the world of Utilitarianism, used by and purported to live life like a standardized production of the greater human. In effect, his principle, tainted, has him substitute the need for love with pragmatism. He did not believe in human relationships, neither did he care for it. But Allen made his way into the heart he once believed to have discarded, and soon he had began to search within himself the validity of his notions. Unfamiliar and unappealing was the disposition of love placed upon him that he had sought to divest himself of this burden – this baggage of superfluous emotions. Yet each time in earnest desire of escaping had he found himself pulled back by the strong hands of fate to Allen Walker.
And he, Allen Walker, was a young boy who took upon himself the weight of world salvation. His conviction, his belief, once strong and unwavering, had began to falter with each battle won or lost. The grief and the pain of watching the accumulating, never ceasing, war-torn bodies consumed him. His mental acumen suffered, and senses deluded him, and it showed him nothing of the future but of ghastly visions that haunted him. It was then an unexpected figure, Kanda, guided him out of his psychological malady. He provided him the solace and comfort from which the foundation of their love took root.
Time could not tell of the passing age of their love, it has been deeply entrenched within the soul of the living such that his spirit, his love lives on. Nor could fate which had pulled them towards each other, and pulling them apart, break the chains that bonded them as one.
They had both been convinced this was a little warmth, a little kindness they could offer each other so they might survive. So they could live on in the barren world.
But that kindness, that warmth, had transformed to love.
And from love, grew purpose, meaning and reason to live.
They have lived for each other.
They had lived for each other.
To my dearly beloved,
I love you, Allen. I love you, so very much.
I have loved you from a time unbeknownst to me.
It pains me thus to write this letter, uncertain if I should depart from this world, never again to have a chance to hold you in my arms and whisper to you these words of love. And it pains me greater to leave you.
But I will not say good bye, for it would mean the end of our love, and the end of everything that holds you so dearly to me.
Please, my love, do not cry.
I have been happy, meeting you, knowing you, and finally, being loved by you. You have given me reason to live. I have no regrets therefore of laying my life for you. The only regret I bear is having to leave your side.
I wish I could hold you longer in my arms, and see your kind eyes peering into mine, or the smile you always have for me. Know that I will always love you.
I always have, and always will.
I love you very much, Allen.