91Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray Man in any way, all credit goes to Katsura Hoshino.
Summary: Forced to leave the Order, Allen comes across a secret hidden in the depths of the Ark. Now, hunted by the Noah Clan and considered an enemy by the place he once called home, he has to search for the truth... The truth about Mana, Neah and himself. Where he came from and who he really is. Uncovering a web of illusions and doubts, Allen still moves forward as he promised to do... But what do you do in a war, when you feel like you don't belong to any side?
"Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it – memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey." – Tad Williams.
Act Thirty-Four – Of Homes and Promises
Two officers stood at the entrance of one of the smaller tents in which Cosimov was being kept before they took him to the station along with the rest of the troupe, which Allen had a strong sensation they thought should've happened by now, especially with the discovery of the child's body.
"We'll be there the entire time." Officer Rossi's voice, as they approached, was likely meant to be reassuring, yet it barely registered to Allen, the nervousness that had started to stir inside him ignoring everything else. Numbness and coldness competed inside him as he tried to shield the rational part of his mind, repeating to himself what mattered: The chance of information, the chance of the truth, how necessary this was, how it was worth it…
He could help to put that man behind bars.
It was worth it.
Then… Why did he feel like he was about to get sick?
"Are you sure you want to do that, Walker?" The subtle gentleness in his tone didn't register in Allen's mind.
"No, I don't. It's a dumb idea. It will hurt. It always hurts and oh, God, what I was thinking, I need to get out of here before they see me, and then I'll be in real trouble." The incessant thought came along with memories and Allen found his voice was refusing to work. Part of him wanted to give in. To go away.
"But I need to do this. It's like Officer Rossi said." He tried to tell himself. "Cosimov might be surprised to see me, it may throw him off his game, get him to confess something…" He wasn't so sure about that. He remembered Cosimov… His mind remembered his appearance, how he spoke, how he walked… His body remembered his strength, his violence, how much pain he could cause…
A tall, thin-faced man who always had smiles to show the audience as they applauded and laughed… Allen hadn't been allowed to watch the show, but he would peek at times. Untouched by the lights and colors, he would see that smile, the shine in Cosimov's eyes, and feel that the man was taking the enjoyment from the audience and keeping it somewhere inside, without truly giving anything in return. Even then, the child had understood that whatever pleasure Cosimov felt, had less to do with the act in itself, its roots on the attention received alone…
Now, Allen realized he had never known (or cared) whether Cosimov had ever wanted to be a performer or was one due to a lack of options… While the answer was irrelevant, Allen felt there was something about it that was… Uncomfortable, to say the least.
Oh, why think about it at all? It wouldn't make any difference now, no more than it would've back then. That was why he had never thought about it when he was a child, was it not? Because it had no effect on his life... And he had just… Just accepted the man as a constancy in his life.
It was how things were.
It wasn't as if he could avoid Cosimov, though God knew he tried whenever he could… Had he misplaced one of the man's clothes or tools? Had he not cleaned it enough for his standards? Cosimov would let him know. Had the audience's reaction not pleased him enough? Someone had looked at him funny? A girl had rejected his advances?
For any reason. For no reason.
Once he had been sitting there… Just sitting outside the tents, watching the sky… Then suddenly, pain. He tasted the dirt of the ground, the back of his head a sea of pain… He turned, just enough to see Cosimov there… Eyes burning as he went on and on and on…
Not that there was any comfort to be found with the rest of the circus. Early in life, he had understood people had two reactions to him: Either they dismissed his existence or they didn't mind taking whatever frustrations they felt out on him, be with hands or words, both did the job just fine…
It was how things were.
Allen bit his lower lip, realizing he was standing on the edge of those memories, almost falling into them again. Why were they coming back? He had kept them at bay for so long, now they were all over his brain…
"It's okay…" He said to Officer Rossi, his voice firmer than he felt, tugging his own glove, adjusting it around his arm… Realizing what he was doing, he stopped. The cold grew in strength. But it was… Had been, part of the rules. He had to help around. He had to stary out of sight. He had to keep his arm hidden. No one should be forced to look at that rotten thing, had they? It wouldn't be fair to others.
It was okay. He was always been careful about that.
He didn't like his arm either.
At times, Cosimov would twist it.
Sometimes he would be muttering about how it would be better to cut it off, sometimes he would be laughing. Red never knew exactly what to expect, besides the blows… When had it first happened? He couldn't remember… When he was four, five? No use… He didn't know. It wasn't as if he had been able to keep track of his own age without anyone's help or birthdays… And when he had become old enough to understand their existence, they had soon become unimportant.
A child with no name doesn't need a birthday.
He wasn't like those children he saw from afar, those who came to the circus with their parents, well-fed and laughing… Once, when he was very small, he had tried to approach two boys who were playing around, thinking that perhaps he could ask them to join the game, that maybe… Just maybe…
One had screamed upon noticing the red fingers and black nails sticking out of the wrapping and the other had laughed, making gagging noises that had followed him as he ran back to one of the tents… After that, he had never tried to approach any of those children again… The fact that, somehow, Mr. Thorne had learned of the event and gave him a little "reminder of the rules" had only strengthened the resolve.
"It'll be okay." He said once more. Officer Rossi seemed about to say something else, then changed his mind and glanced at Raz. The girl gave no signs of noticing or acknowledging it. There was no emotion whatsoever to be seen in her manners, yet Officer Rossi was already sure it would do no good to try dissuading her from accompanying Walker. Well, maybe she was not involved in those matters, but her presence might give Walker a sense of security that was different from that of authorities' figures.
He didn't know, but Allen had already insinuated that she might prefer to not be there for this, only for the Noah to look at him. She had simply looked, with knowing eyes and he had abandoned all the pretense and just felt the warmth that her decision made him feel.
Officer Rossi nodded to the two and gestured to the other officers to get in position, hoping that this would work while Walker entered the tent.
The man seated at a table had been looking upward until the brief brightness from outside or the rustling of the fabric called his attention. Face thin, strong features that might've been carved, and that would have been handsome if not for the annoyance they expressed. Sharp bright eyes. Still the tall man Allen remembered, whose ballet dancer-like grace had been an important factor when performing.
Like before, there was no "aura", no special shine in his eyes, nothing that denounced his true nature to those who crossed his past.
"Who are you now?" He didn't bother to hide his irritation, leaning his body back in the chair as he evaluated both, a shadow of a smile on his lips. Allen knew the signs and they were enough to claw at his heart. Who had been insane enough to bother Cosimov like that? Didn't they know the sort of man they were dealing with?
"Don't tell me they sent two brats to question me…" Cosimov muttered to himself, clearly having had enough with the whole ordeal despite the amusement he displayed. Allen knew he wasn't even considering that they had anything to do with the investigation, just like he knew that not knowing the reason for their presence was just another factor that provoked the man's temper.
Allen said nothing. He didn't know the words or if he would be able to say them. With his white hair and scar, it was not a surprise that Cosimov didn't recognize him right away… It was a relief in a sense…
The man crossed his arms, staring at them. Allen noticed his hair was speckled with gray.
With a measured gesture, unsure almost, Allen pulled the glove and lifted his arm, revealing the red flesh. Recognition flowed in the man's eyes, the surprise relaxing the facial muscles for an instant.
He smiled. Allen wanted to run.
"Fucking shit, Red?" Cosimov laughed. Laughed, as if meeting an old friend. Allen wasn't fooled, he heard what was underneath the sound and knew the brief glint in that expression had nothing to do with happiness. He wondered how many times Cosimov had wanted to find him after he had run away… And Allen knew that if he ever had, Cosimov would've killed him. "What's this, some joke? What the fuck you're doing here now, you brat?"
Those eyes. They looked so much the same…
Allen was afraid. So afraid that he realized he would've preferred to deal with the Millenium Earl himself at that moment.
Raz, feeling this was a personal matter and that perhaps she shouldn't interfere, leaned closer to Allen, resisting a sudden impulse of holding that man's body and starting to open it… Carefully removing layers of skin and flesh, allowing his organs to be seen… No…
What was she thinking? She didn't want to want that.
Yet she did.
"Where have you found me?" Allen wanted to end this as fast as possible. He hoped his voice didn't sound as weak as he sensed it, but considering Cosimov's expression, he had doubts. His heartbeat was a neverending cry. It was never a good idea to ask too much in this place. Okay. Okay, he could do it if he didn't back down. No reason to prolong an exchange of words, no need to stay.
Cosimov's arms relaxed, crossed on the table, as his gaze went up and down Allen as if evaluating the effect of the passage of time before snorting, dragging one foot against the ground.
Allen felt himself before a bull kicking the ground.
"You changed." A smile sliced his face. "I thought this rotting arm was gross enough, but then you appear here with the face fucked up like that. What did you do, cut yourself up?" The question was laced with a false worry that didn't hide the mockery. He snickered. While the sound still made Allen shiver, he wondered if the man had any notion of what was going on here, of what he was being accused or if Cosimov believed he could still get away with no consequence.
And why wouldn't he think so? It was how it was. How it had been for years.
"I just want to know where you found me." Allen repeated, firmer this time. He had to keep the focus on this matter first. If he mentioned the dead child right away, it would only serve to make Cosimov defensive.
The man laughed with scorn, shaking his head.
"Oh, man… What now?" He stared back at him. His fingers drummed on the table as if - through the sound – he wanted to remind Allen of what he could do. Such intention was clear in his manners. "You think mommy and daddy are searching for their little freak?"
Allen said nothing. His heart flinched. Why… Why after so many years, that man could still hurt him?
Before the lack of a reaction, Cosimov's smile twisted as he likely wondered why the police outside had allowed Red to come in here at all. Finally, he waved, dismissing him.
"You know already." The pretense was gone and he leaned forwards, his stare and the way a corner of his mouth pulled up often being a promise of pain. "You were left near some road. And what did you do after we took you in? You just got up and left with a faggot out of nowhere."
Rage took Allen's body.
He briefly moved his hand to the side upon sensing Raz flinching. He didn't risk taking his eyes off Cosimov. His hands were closes into fists… With all those signals he knew so well, a part of him was still scared, still trying to find a way to back down, to not provoke him further…
Yet, somehow, the fury pushed through fear, and what Allen saw was not Cosimov's rage.
Instead, he saw that child with a bruise… The child whose name he didn't know, the child who probably would forever see his brother being beaten up to death when he closed his eyes… And listening to Cosimov speaking of Mana at all burned his blood just as well.
"I guess if I hadn't, I would be in some grave by now." The cold in his voice, perhaps more than the words, made something flicker in Cosimov's expression, far too brief to be properly identified. Allen sensed Raz tensing and subtly moved his hand. The gesture would easily be taken as him trying to keep her behind, stopping her from stepping forward, but the firmness carried another message. "What road and where?"
Bitterness came to Cosimov's features. Allen felt his arm shivering, the flesh recalling the man's hands twisting it, the heavy foot coming down against it, rubbing it against the ground…
"You spend a couple of years loafing around and think you're a great man. Don't piss me off, Red." His tone made it clear what would happen otherwise. "You need to know your place in life."
One of Cosimov's pearls, something he often said, never finding it a bother to remind Red his place. And how he should be grateful to have a place at all… Mr. Thorne had been similar in this regard, at times speaking almost kindly to Red, to the point he actually had been grateful on some occasions and ashamed of his bad behavior…
"Just tell me what I want to know and I'll leave" Red… Allen, carried on, a new coldness finding its way among the words and before he realized the words, they were leaving his mouth. "Or do you think I came here to waste my time with someone like you?"
His heart jumped.
God, what was he thinking? Something inside him screamed in fear, was he insane?
A loud thud when the chair fell. Cosimov's eyes were those of a rabid dog.
"You little shit, I should…" His muscles trembled with rage. "Who the fuck you think you are?"
Allen frowned… In his memories, Cosimov was bigger… The arms were still strong, but the neck's skin had lost its firmness… The shoulders weren't so large anymore… The years had passed by and left a mark…
This was the man who had beaten a child to death. This was the man who had laughed when Allen cried… He had killed Mana's dog for no reason other than the audience and the staff around liked Mana more…
"And you, who do you think you are?" He tilted his head. "I honesty wonder… What do you see when you look in the mirror?" No mockery, the question was sincere despite the coldness growing. Cosimov didn't seem to notice.
It happened fast.
The tabled was tossed aside. The closed fist would've hit Allen, had he not held it. The man was too slow if compared to an Akuma and Allen's red hand closed over Cosimov's. The man growled, but Allen saw a flicker of surprise in those eyes. Behind them, Officer Rossi rushed inside. Catching the message in Allen's eyes, he nodded and stood there, ready to interfere should it become necessary. Cosimov had noticed nothing.
He was angry and when that happened, he saw nothing besides whoever he wanted to blame or deemed a good target… Now, he was surprised, too. He wasn't used to having someone facing him like this. He wasn't used to someone fighting back.
"I am not a child anymore, coward…" The whisper was cold, a part of his wanting to crush those fingers, to break that hand, to make Cosimov feel like that child had, like he had years back, how all those he had hurt had felt…
"Fuck off, you freak!" Cosimov's face twisted in hatred. He didn't try to get free, not yet, and attempted another verbal stab. "What do you think your mother thought when you came out of her and she saw that arm?"
Allen released him, forcing his hand back. Not close enough to make Cosimov stumble, but enough to push him. He knew that in the man's eyes, he was still a child… Or less, a thing he could take his frustrations out on. A wave of heat came inside him, strong enough to make him nauseated and it was a good thing Officer Rossi was right there, otherwise, Allen knew he might very well have forgotten his original goals.
"Tell me where you found me" It had been one thing to keep a calm tone when talking with the Noahs in the past. It was a greater challenge to do so with Cosimov, but it seemed to work. He spat at Allen's feet, his arms tensed. Allen realized his own hands were closed now, burning with the desire to do something.
"Fucking freak…" The man muttered between teeth. Allen once more tried to ignore the words, his hand slithering to take hold of Raz's wrist. He couldn't tell if it was out of needing her touch or because he had just noticed the shadows darkening into drops of oil, shivering on the ground as living curses.
As confident as he seemed to be, Cosimov had more to deal with at the moment, despite the impulse (natural, for him) of beating the boy up. The man held his head high.
"I should've forced the guts of that mongrel down your throat." He muttered and groaned a sigh. "Hell if I know and hell if I care. Somewhere near a village, near west."
A truth or a lie? Allen couldn't tell for sure.
"Specifically, if you will? He said, making Cosimov laugh.
"Or what?"
Allen said nothing. As long as he didn't fall for Cosimov's provocation, he had a chance.
"Who knows, maybe those people outside will be interested in what I have to tell about the time I spent in here…" Which he would do anyway, but Cosimov had no means of knowing it and if the threat worked, that was just fine. A part of him, however, considered the other options… Perhaps showing Cosimov the claws of Crown Clown or letting Raz scare him…
"Wait. No, that's not how we solve things…" The thought came more due to fear of considering those ideas rather than anything else. Yet, the idea didn't leave.
"And you think someone would believe a thing like you?" He laughed. Was there something different about the sound? "Never knew you were so fucked up in the head."
He stared at Allen. He made a conscious effort to keep any emotion from touching his eyes or face. Just stared back, trying to not blink. Seconds passed, dragging on like hours. Allen's eyes started to prickle, still he didn't blink or looked away.
Finally, Cosimov groaned.
"Near Bristol. I think it was Ivorfalls. Happy now?"
"Not quite…" Allen said slowly, making a display of polite curiosity, similar to how Tyki had once acted. Asking about Mana would be a waste of time, this he knew. He had better chances asking Mr. Thorne or someone else who might have actually spoken with him. "Why did you kill that child?"
Cosimov smiled. Allen remained still, knowing the reason behind the gesture.
"I didn't ever even lay a hand on the brat." The light tone could've fooled someone. Allen had heard too much of the man's lies to fall for it and he saw the mockery in his expression.
"Yes, you did." He replied in an even voice. "You used to hurt him, didn't you? Just like you used to hurt me."
"Hmm, no." The man shrugged and waved, dismissing not only the idea but the conversation. "Was never friends with the brat, but I wouldn't hurt a child."
"You hurt him, but someone saw you. And you panicked." Cosimov's smile twitched at that. "You lost control."
"I did not." The smile was gone now and the man stood straighter, looking down at Allen. How many times had Allen heard those denials? Just as many times as he had heard Mr. Thorne's honeyed words about discipline, he supposed.
"You lost control and you killed him." He continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, still calm. The fear was distant now, floating somewhere too deep inside Allen to matter. "Because you're a coward who only feels good about himself when he is hurting someone."
"I am not a coward…" The man groaned, shoulders hard, leaning forwards.
"Only you can only go after those who you are sure that are weaker. Children." He shook his head in exasperation when it seemed Cosimov would protest once more. "Everyone outside knows it already. Others will, too." It was Allen's turn to smile. "Don't you see it? You've lost, Cosimov."
"I didn't lose."
"You did. You were always a loser, and you'll be in jail for the rest of your life. And the men there, well, I don't think they will be intimated by a coward who hurts children. I think they will be quite pissed, in fact. You lose, simple like that."
"I DON'T LOSE!" The man roared, his eyes ablaze. "AND WHO THE FUCK CARES?! YOU THINK ANYONE WILL CARE THAT I KILLED A NAMELESS BRAT?"
"I do." Officer Rossi said behind them.
Cosimov looked from the man to Allen.
A second of silence passed by, as he realized what he had just said and who had just heard. No doubt, the other officers at the entrance of the tent had heard him as well. However, instead of diminishing as lucid thought became possible once again, the look in his eyes worsened.
"You little son of a bitch…" He lunged forward. Officer Rossi was on him in a second, holding his arms back. Cosimov let out a sound of rage. Unimpressed, the other just tugged his arms.
"Don't give me a reason." He said between clenched teeth. Cosimov stopped moving, panting, his eyes moving quickly.
"I… I can make a deal."
The officer didn't even pretend to consider it. He just stared at the man.
"I really don't think so."
"No fucking judge will have the balls to throw me in jail!" It was hard to tell if he actually believed this or was just saying it for some unknown reason. Officer Rossi ignored him as he shackled his wrists. "No one can prove shit!"
There was no response to his words. Cosimov's breathing slowly normalized and he seemed to calm down, perhaps realizing it would do him no good to keep fighting for now. Allen wasn't sure, but found that he didn't care… Somehow, he wanted to leave just as much as he had before coming in here.
"Fine. Fine…" Cosimov was saying, suddenly smiling in that way that hid everything else. Suddenly, he turned to Allen. "I'll still see you around, Red. And you know what?"
Tall and still quite flexible, he managed to lean towards Allen in a way that most people likely wouldn't be quite able to.
"This cunt you've got. Is she a good fuck? After I'm done with you I'll be in the mood, anyway. And besides, I can pay more than you."
It happened fast.
Raz turned around, fast like a snake. Most of the terms escaped her understanding, but the feminine instinct warned her of the meaning, and to the Devil with control, she was going to break that man to the point his bones would shatter if he ever landed his hand on someone else.
Bam!
It was a loud sound. Bone against bone.
Cosimov fell with the impact. He might have fallen if Officer Rossi wasn't still holding his wrists, knowing better than to let the man loose. Allen's gray eyes were ice and he approached the man's face.
"You've always gone after those who can't fight back, haven't you? Well, I've told you already…" His whisper was poison, something that had been unleashed after years of silence. "I'm not a child anymore. And if you ever so much as look at her again, I will help you realize how much of a coward you really are."
By now the Officers who had been standing guard outside were in here as well. Cosimov looked around.
"He threatened me!" He said out loud. "You all heard me! He assaulted and threatened me!"
"Oh, poor you…" One of the officers, whose name Allen didn't know, said while Officer Rossi nodded at Allen and Raz, clearly telling them to leave the tent.
It was unnecessary, Allen was already taking Raz's hand and pulling her along before anyone said anything else. The Noah remained in silence for some moments, having already seen Allen angry and knowing this was different: It was hatred. Not that she had any room to say anything, not when she longed to get back in that tent and… And what? Test the limits of what a human body could sustain without dying?
"I wish I had done that…" She muttered, referring to the punch. Allen, however, sighed as he shook his head and stopped walking, running a hand through the white hair as he tried to calm his own breathing.
"That bastard…" He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Damn it, I don't even know if I should have done that…" Seeing the surprise of Raz, he explained. "It's not for him or anything like that, I… I can't lie about that. But… When I look at him, I wonder… If when you start to use too much violence, you just don't know how to stop anymore."
Wasn't there enough violence with the war, as it was?
Raz hesitated, somehow unsure.
"I… I don't know, but I'm sure he deserved a lot more than that."
Allen shook his head again. The truth was, a part of him still wanted to go back in there and hurt that man… He was not innocent, he wasn't a poor soul, he was someone who only took pleasure when hurting others. Yet, Allen also felt… Empty, somehow. Now that everything was said and done, he just felt empty and tired…
It was too much. He didn't feel closure, he just wanted to leave and to not look around least the memories were stirred in him again. The circus seemed to be smaller than it had been back then (though it had never been a huge one, despite the ostentatious appearance), but there was enough around to do so, so if he left quickly enough, perhaps he wouldn't remember that tent or that other stand or how he used to have to rush around, cleaning everything, washing the clothes. He had to do everything right, to make sure everything was okay. If he did that and stayed out of the way, his chances of not being hurt increased.
Not always, but sometimes.
Mistakes had a high price. Once, he had been taking the dinner to Mr. Thorne. He didn't know if he had tripped or the plate had felt too heavy in his small hands, but some of the food had slipped on the table… Was it soup? He thought it was. He had apologized… And then he was on the ground. His cheek burned, his gums hurt with the impact of Mr. Thorne's hand. Too scared to be angry, he had braced himself and apologized again before the man's hand clenched his hair, forcing Red to lift his head to see the man smiling, smiling gently at him while saying this was wrong, they couldn't have that, no, sir, now the tablecloth was all dirty and food had been wasted.
Then, surprisingly, after Red's lungs were unable to take air and his stomach was a burning stone, Mr. Thorne had petted his head, his tone as gentle as it had been while he kicked him… He had been so kind to take Red in and the boy couldn't even settle a plate down without messing up? Was that nice of him, when Mr. Thorne had taken him from a ditch when he was a baby with that arm of his?
Then he would unwrap the red flesh and force it in front of Red's face, reminding him why he had been abandoned, why he had nowhere else to go… The world had no kindness for abandoned children, let alone the disfigured ones…
Back then, he had believed it – everything – was because of his arm (there had to be a reason, right?), but after he had ran… Left, after he had left, then he had understood. No. In a sense, there had been no reason. No motive. It was how things were and that was all.
"If I were to ask them now… What would they say?"
"Well, I'd say that worked…" Someone said, calling the attention of both. To their surprise, it was the cop from before, Officer Booth. "And I think I have good news…" This made them exchange glances, unsure of what sort of good news could be found here.
"Thorne." The man told both. "When he heard you were around and willing to help us, he got nervous. I think he may also end up confessing. We also…" At this, he hesitated for a moment. "We also found a trunk with children's clothes and belonging. We need you to tell us if you recognize or even owned any of them."
Despite the black flame still in his blood, Allen nodded.
At least it seemed the investigation was going well…
Maybe, there could be justice after all…
XxX
Back in London, Allen and Raz waited in the police station for the time for Allen to give the written statement… It seemed they would have to stay for a while. If this case went to court (it likely would, despite Cosimov's confession), he would have to testify…
He had also seen the trunk, containing clothes and a few other belongings, the only ones that children could have in a place like that. Looking at that had made him sick to his stomach. There weren't many, but they certainly felt like that. As he had seen them, soon recognizing an old shirt, he couldn't have helped but to wonder how many children the circus had "employed" before him and how many after he had left… An old shirt there… A skirt… A beaten-up hat…
He had noticed that a few of the people who had worked in the circus before were no longer present (at least he had not seen there). It was fine. He couldn't say he was interested in what had happened to them anyway. One woman, however, had recognized him as she was taken for interrogatory and glared at him with fury, as if her being there was his fault.
He remembered here. She had never laid a hand on her, preferring to groan in disgust each time he passed by her.
Sitting in a dark chair, he found himself remembering how much he had longed to escape, keeping in mind that once he grew up, he would be able to run away. And he wouldn't be caught. And he would be able to look after himself and be free of all that. He could wait. He was not weak. And he didn't mind being alone.
He was not lonely, he was not…
That was just the way of the world, anyway. You could either learn to get by or you could make yourself smaller and die like a dog…
Dog…
Heh, it had been like this that he had met Mana, right? Allen almost laughed, for a reason he couldn't tell even to himself. That dog simply seemed to like him, despite the fact he had been less than pleased with the animal's attention. Once, he had been in a corner, trying to ignore the exhaustion in his muscles and the pain of a beating while trying to hold the food in his stomach… Suddenly, something warm nearby…
Certainly enough, there was the dog.
"Piss off" He had groaned. Any idiot would be able to tell the animal didn't belong to the circus. The animals looked well-cared in the eyes of the audience, no doubt, but he lived behind the curtains and knew the truth. The eyes of the circus' dogs didn't shine like that, they weren't always jumping and playing, their clothes often hiding signs of mistreatment.
The tamer always said, if you wanted a tiger to jump through a flaming hoop, you had to teach the animal to fear you more than the fire.
The dog had just approached, the fluffy collar shaking with the movement. A white and brown animal. It started to sniff at him with clear curiosity.
"I said piss off, damn it!" He had insisted, waving his arm to try making it leave, stopping when a jolt of pain went up to his nerves. The animal was not impressed, the attempt probably lacking violence or intensity enough to be taken seriously.
The dog sat at his side.
It ignored his groan like it had ignored its displeasure until now. It was all he needed: A fleabag rubbing itself on him. On purpose, he ignored the warmth of the animal.
"I don't have any food, go after ya owner."
The answer was a lick on his arm. When he tried to push its muzzle away, the dog licked his hand in turn… The ugly, red hand. And then laid its hand on his lap.
He had been unable to push the dog away. Not only because it seemed settled on ignoring the attempts, but also, somehow, he had been feeling lighter. It had sounded pathetic, even to himself, but that had been… Had been the first gesture of actual kindness the boy had known… The times Thorne petted his head or Lorenzo, the animal tamer, ruffled his hair didn't count. Not really.
A child he might have been, but he had felt that those gestures were somehow… Wrong. Lorenzo's touch was always absent, not different from a treat tossed to an animal and Mr. Thorne's… No, it was different with that dog. There was no fear that it would suddenly change its mind and bite him…
The boy hadn't been that surprised to see the dog dead, laying in a shallow grave that the clown (its owner) seemed to have made with his own hands… He knew nothing, be about the man or the dog, but had asked if the man didn't want to get revenge… It had been so obvious that Cosimov had killed the dog with his bare hands…
Mana, however, had just said that the dog was old and would've died soon, anyway. Besides, he would leave the following day and if he did anything, he wouldn't receive his payment.
The answer had made no sense.
It didn't feel right.
When he realized it, he was crying. And so, he and Mana had remained there, sitting side by side before the dog's grave, both mourning in their own way.
Somehow, he had left the circus the next morning, along with Mana. He hadn't thought the man had paid any real mind to him or cared, he was just a brat that had cried because of a dog. That was all.
Mana had sought him out on Christmas morning, telling him to make up an excuse and wait for him at the circus' entrance. There had been some urgency in his tone and, more out of curiosity than anything else, the boy had lied about checking if the posters were in place… At the same time, he wondered if he should do that. The first impression he had been of Mana was that the man was a little… A little crazy, maybe.
Mana had just asked him to come with him. Just that, as if they had been planning that for weeks now, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Why the hell?" The boy without a name had asked, hands in the pockets in an attempt to keep them warm. It was cold that morning, the clothes weren't quite enough.
What the man said had made no sense. What did he really want?
"Because you don't have to stay here."
"What does it matter to you?"
Mana had tilted his head, as if the question was the strange thing being said.
"Do I need a reason?" The tone was almost childish, making the boy groan in response. He had no patience for such things. People never did anything without a reason and he didn't see what the clown had to gain with his presence. He told the man so.
"But if you think like that, then you have nothing to gain by staying here either…" The boy had been too annoyed, too upset about the dog, too caught up to notice the curious sadness that had laced the man's words. This realization would only come later.
"What do ya want for real? Want me to work for you, that's it?" Red asked with no trust to offer. At least, he already knew the circus and what to expect, but this man was completely unknown…
Not to mention he had tried to run away once… He hadn't gone very far.
Mana laughed to himself.
"You're a strange boy, you know?"
"Ever looked in the mirror?" Had been the muttered response and he had controlled the impulse of backing away, muscles already tensing up in case the clown decided to teach him to shut up with a punch. To his confusion, Mana didn't seem at all bothered.
"I suppose you have a point…" His voice was serene. He could be speaking to himself or to someone else that the boy could not see. "Well, I can teach you to perform if you want to…"
It was not what the boy had meant and he sighed, seeing the man was making an offer rather than a condition or proposal. He knew he should get back soon, Mr. Thorne would come to check on him (and to tell him to start his other chores). He would not be pleased to find Red wasting his time with conversation.
"That's not what I… Oh, damn it, man! What do you want? What matters to you if I stay in this shithole?"
Mana leaned to him, hands on his knees, looking straight in his eyes. There was no despise or annoyance to be found in that gaze and, in the intensity of it, realizing the man was actually seeing him, the boy felt somewhat unsure.
"I just don't want to leave you here…" He hesitated, lowering his voice. "And… And maybe I'm being selfish, but to travel by myself gets too lonely…"
In the end, the boy had thought that even if Mana was being selfish, it might be easier to escape from him than from the circus. At least the man had made no display of violence until now… Between waiting to grow up and taking the chance of escaping now, the first option sounded a lot better. It wasn't much, but…
Shrugging, he accepted with a nod.
And he was surprised when Mana held his hand. Even as he said between clenched teeth that he was not a damn baby, Mana had just laughed and ruffled his hair…
Red, who would soon abandon that name to call himself Allen, groaned… While deep down, he thought that Mana's hand was warm…
XxX
Klaud, like many people, could feel uncomfortable if being stared at for too long. It was different from when she had worked as an animal tamer, those were shows. Yet, no one would be able to take notice of her stance just by looking at her as it rarely affected her behavior.
Kanda remained in silence, staring daggers at the woman, not willing to give her trust, regardless of what the Moyashi had told about meeting her and how Klaud, apparently, had said nothing of it either. It was a point in her favor, this much he was willing to admit, but not enough. He evaluated the possibilities of this reunion with the precision of a scalpel slicing flesh.
Miranda kept a serene expression, the only betrayer of her nervousness being the way her fingers intertwined, hands in front of her body. Beyond the window, the orange of the afternoon touched the light blue of an approaching night. The sun hadn't completely set, yet one or two stars already twinkled shyly.
Krory, having decided to at least hear Klaud out, explained their conversation to the others. It would call attention if the whole group was talking in the gardens (and easily noticed), so they had opted for using Komui's private office, just like they had done back when Kanda had reunited them to find out who still believed in Allen.
Klaud considered the situation. None of those people seemed to be the type that would denounce her to the Central and there was no surprise in seeing they were all people who had been close to Walker. Well… She had never seen him quite "hanging out" with Marie, but she knew him to be of good character.
Well, too late to back away now. She could only hope she wasn't making a terrible mistake.
"You didn't tell anyone? About when you saw Allen, General?" Lenalee's question was gentle, keeping a respectful tone, wanting to confirm it despite having heard it from Allen already. She was aware the woman could lie about it, but still couldn't help herself.
Klaud merely nodded.
"And your reasons would be?" Kanda didn't bother with niceties, no more than he ever had. As far as he was concerned, Klaud Nine didn't know the Moyashi as well as the others. Her motivations could not be so easily related to friendship and loyalty. Why would she take the risk to help him, then?
The woman was not at all bothered by the question. If anything, it was how she preferred to deal with such matters, anyway.
"Because I'm not blind nor deaf, Kanda." The glance she gave him was brief but sharp. "The Central's behavior regarding him was strange." She ignored how Lenalee lowered her eyes and the way Krory's jaw seemed to shiver. She wasn't there to play counselor. "Yes, he went against direct orders by helping Kanda escape and he posed a risk by carrying Noah's genes, but we received no details about his state, no greater exams were made to determine if he was turning into a Noah or not. And I don't need to mention what happened when he left the Order or the circumstances, do I?"
No answer. Not that she wanted any.
"When we… Crossed paths, let's say, I was fighting a Level Four." Lau Shimin, rushing from the door to the window, wanting to make sure there was no one approaching and no golem trying to hear (ignoring how Marie was likely doing the same thing with his acute hearing), gave a low chirp, whipping his tail against the floor. "There was nothing he could gain by helping me, yet he did. And the Noah that was with him…"
"Her name is Raz" Kanda muttered, recalling how it had been when he had found the Moyashi, the Noah girl threatening to cut his throat, only backing off when Allen had assured her that it was alright.
Klaud nodded. Oh, so this was her name…
"Raz, did nothing against me." Her self-control repressed a shiver at the memory of her eyes being touched by something that, by all means, shouldn't have substance. "They just interfered to destroy the Akuma" She noticed Kanda rolling his eyes. Probably thinking something along the lines of "Stupid Moyashi", she guessed (and wouldn't be wrong).
Although he already knew those details, Kanda once more felt the well-known impulse of hocking the boy. Could it be he didn't realize this impulsivity of his only served to get into trouble?
"What can I say? What the Central said about him didn't match his actions. Besides, you've noticed, haven't you? How the Central has… Changed, lately?"
Another rhetoric question. Kanda nearly scoffed. It was not that the Central had changed, in his opinion, it was just finally revealing more of its real nature, bit by bit. And there were still some idiots that didn't realize what was going on and mistook the loss of freedom and new shackles by security.
"If anything, maybe this confirms a few things about the Order rather than about Walker." Not to mention the story the Order had told about that night and how everything regarding that particular subject sounded strange, almost forced, as if they didn't want to leave doubts that Walker was a traitor. It didn't give the sensation of people doing so to stop others from being hurt by him due to remaining emotional bonds.
Somehow, it was when justifications sounded so well-knitted and perfect that they seemed out of place.
"I didn't say anything before because I wasn't sure who I could trust. So, I just played safe until I got a chance…" She took a deep breath, wanting to go straight to the point. The others stayed in silence. It seemed Klaud was willing to support Allen, at least. Marie could bet Kanda was still not pleased. The samurai's heartbeat was controlled, it rarely became agitated outside of a battlefield (and then, it was due to the physical demand). But by what Marie could sense in the woman's voice, she wasn't lying.
"Just like all of you used the chance you had to meet Walker…" Seeing some of them exchanging glances and others surprised, Klaud nearly sighed. Of course she had realized that. Others might not, but because they didn't follow the same line of thought due to already labeling Walker as a traitor.
Yet, if she had realized what they had done, there was a chance someone in the Central had as well.
A part of her wished some of them would learn how to control their expressions a little more.
"I decided to investigate a little and I sneaked into the Archives Room…"
"You did what?"
"The Archives?" Reever asked and even Kanda leaned forwards with interest. They all knew how well-guarded the Archives were, lately more than never. Even if Klaud was a General, for her to take such a risk and sneak in like that… And succeeded, on top of that.
Lenalee felt a certain pride for being in the woman's unit…
Would she have done the same in her shoes?
She pushed the thought aside, not before thinking that she had no answer to the question.
"So you really want to "help" the Moyashi?" Kanda asked with an unreadable tone. Klaud stared at him and, for a few seconds, nothing was said. Finally, Kanda's shoulders lowered, some tension leaving his posture. It was not a gesture of defeat, but of acceptance. For now, at least.
"I may have found something curious…" Klaud turned to Komui's table, taking the copied papers from inside her coat. "Take a look."
"What are those?" Komui asked, picking up one, his dark eyes running by the words. "Wait… Those…"
"Battles' reports… From thirty-five and thirty-sixyears ago." Miranda whispered as she examined another paper. She knew the Order kept files with details and reports about the battles, but she had not thought they were like what she was reading now. Somewhere deep inside her stomach, a knot started to form. It felt wrong to see battles written in cold details of numbers and technical words.
"The Fourteenth killed the Clan thirty-five years ago. I thought there might be something in the reports, in the battles of that time, that would help us. Perhaps some evidence, something the Noahs might have said, anything that would give us an indication…" Klaud said slowly. It wasn't a bad idea, Lenalee considered, recalling how it had been in the White Ark when Tyki had wanted to talk before fighting with Allen.
Krory looked from the report he had picked up to Klaud, his eyes meeting hers.
"If you pay attention…" She said. "There were no Noahs' attacks during those periods."
"The Noahs weren't seen in a long time, maybe…" Komui started, but Klaud interrupted, sounding almost impatient for the first time.
"No, it's not the same. Pay attention. The Earl was still seen in the years following the Clan's slaughter. Of course the others weren't seen, we don't even know how is this process of… Birth, incarnation, or whatever they call it." The woman waved her hand in dismissal of the detail. "But even then, when they were all alive and well, the Earl himself was not seen."
The presents either kept reading the reports or exchanged glances, frowning. This… This was out of place. Thirty-six years ago the Clan was alive and still there were no reports of battles between a Noah and an Exorcist. If compared to the recent period when the new members had appeared… It made little sense.
But no. No fights, no appearances. No nothing.
"And the fights against Akumas…" Miranda placed a sheet of paper on the table, picking another one, reading it so fast that her eyes were almost dark blurs against white. Kanda muttered the details of the one he was reading to Marie.
"Almost no wounds…" The samurai muttered, not understanding what he was reading. It was impossible. If what was written here was true, then nothing here could be truly considered a battle, not as far as he was concerned. Hell, he was reading about an Exorcist who had fought a Level Three by himself and had won with just a few scratches.
No. He had fought others of Level Three. No matter how strong you were, there was no way someone would fight alone and have such light wounds.
The hell that meant? No… Compared to what they had lived through… Somehow, thirty-six years ago, things were different.
"My best guess is that something was happening with the Clan back then. I can't say exactly when that started…" Once more Klaud was bothered, almost annoyed, that she hadn't copied older reports as well so they would be able to tell when things had started to change. "It seems they weren't attacking Exorcists."
Or, perhaps better saying, they weren't… So bloodthirsty?
"Doesn't mean they weren't doing anything." Marie interjected.
What had been going on back when Neah was alive?
XxX
The process was taking longer than Neah had expected… And could take even longer, for what it seemed.
When he had first come close to taking Allen's body as his own, during the attack against the Order, he had sensed the Innocence trying to block him, to send him back to that corner he had remained until then with no success. Then, Allen's eye had reacted to Karma's soul, his conscience regaining strength and breaking the chains. Later, there had been a window of chance when the Glasses Man and the Samurai had found them…
He had become stronger, but not enough to hold Allen back or the Innocence.
When this had first started, Neah had had no delusions that the body would become his overnight, it wasn't how things were. Possession was something, but most people were unaware of how deep the connection between flesh and soul and mind went. Destroying a person at once without damaging the body was possible, yes, but the hollow carcass that remained would never be able to truly host another being.
Yet, this was still going too slow for his tastes… His attempts while Allen slept were resisted by Crown Clown, which never rested and remained alert, focusing on the points of the psyche that Neah tried to attack, acting as a shield and never once yielding.
Curious enough, they had a common ground in their desire of avoiding open conflict. Both knew that if this happened, there was a huge risk of Allen's organs starting to break apart or worse.
None of them wanted that.
When Allen had decided to invade the Ark to rescue the Redhead and the Old Man, Neah had had no choice but to back down as much as he could. The last thing he needed was for the young man to collapse while inside the Ark.
Now, he tried to continue from where he had stopped. It was something done more by instinct than conscious knowledge in a sense. His case and Allen's was something that had never happened before. Once more, he wondered about how people might compare this to a possession rather than how a true Awakening was supposed to go…
After all, when the other Noahs awakened, there was no real risk of losing their identities. Sure, they needed self-control to not lose themselves to the Noah's memory, but this would be akin to lose yourself to a basic instinct, not lose yourself the way it would eventually happen with Allen.
Now able to see everything his friend did, Neah at least could evaluate the situations with more clarity… And he had to admit, it was way less boring.
At least that cretin with whom Allen had just spoken had told the truth. Ivorfalls was a little town near Bristol, where Allen had lived a long time ago. Maybe, by going there, he might remember everything… Including Neah and their promise.
If he remembered, it would be easier. Everything would be okay, then.
If only he remembered…
And maybe Neah would understand what had happened, too. How Allen had become younger and what had happened during those years. Not for the first time that day, he felt somewhat bothered and unable to do anything about it, just like when Allen had nearly had a panic attack when heading to the circus.
Timcampy had not been with Allen during those years (and how on Earth had Allen ended up in a place like that, anyway?), so Neah had known nothing about it… And like Raz, he had only been able to take his conclusions from the little Allen had told her.
And, like it so often happened, the conclusions paled before the reality.
He had no access to Allen's memories, but they caused waves of emotions strong enough for him to sense them… And he was repulsed. He had several reasons to despise the human race and today had only served to revive the feeling, as unnecessary as it was.
Neah admitted: He was not a saint, but he had certain morals. The idea that a child had been beaten like that… The sensation he had sensed from Allen when the young man thought about the circus… It couldn't be considered even hopelessness, for hope itself had been forgotten.
It was like the soul had retracted itself deeper into the cocoon of the flesh, having nothing and believing nothing, merely accepting the pain that came. It came a time when the child believed to be as worthless as the others around said…
No child should know the depths of loneliness, or despair, like that.
And the thought that those humans had done this to Allen… To the son of his brother…
The thought had made him stop for a moment.
Yes… Yes, he knew Mana had adopted Allen, but… He had never thought much about it before. Only that it was the truth: Allen was Mana's son. The lack of blood connection meant nothing, it never did, much less to Noahs… He was Mana's son, simple as that.
He was his nephew.
It was strange that the Allen he had known, his old friend, had somehow become his brother's son. That was all he thought the first time he had heard about it, but only now Neah realized the truth of the statement. In a sense, at that moment, he thought of Allen not as he had once been but how he was now.
Mana's son.
Thinking that he had spent a great part of his childhood there until Mana had taken him in… It made him want to take control of the body – screw you, Crown Clown – and destroy that man called Cosimov…
Euphoria had come to him when Allen had punched the man, despite how Neah wished he had done more than that (and from what he had felt, Crown Clown itself had wanted to hurt the man). There was also satisfaction in seeing Allen defending Raz like he had…
Raz…
Neah wondered how she would react if he managed to take over Allen's body, regardless of her apparent resolution to remain at his side…
He thought of when she had told the boy and the others about the first thing she had clearly remembered about the Clan… About anything, really… He recalled that night as well. Their conversation under the night's sky, him having problems with the latest composition and how they had talked about traveling together someday…
How Mana had gained the nickname "Walker" from that night on…
At least, it had been mostly a pleasant memory. Better than it what would've been if she had started to recover her memory with other events of a different nature… Neah had been surprised how affected Raz had been by how she had killed those humans and how she blamed herself… He would've liked to be able to tell her that it didn't matter, to explain, to make her understand…
However, by what he had seen, it was likely that nothing he said would convince her that it "didn't matter". There were moments when Allen watched her and Neah knew the boy also knew that she was working her own feelings about what had happened… And they seemed to be more than unpleasant.
This was wrong. She wasn't meant to feel bad, let alone for those people.
It was ironic. For a moment, Neah imagined what the rest of the Clan would've said if they were there to see that.
Later, when she had asked Allen to talk about Mana… Neah had been glad, he also wanted to know more about how his brother had lived after he… Well, after he had died.
It seemed he and Allen had had good moments together. At least Mana hadn't been alone.
He thought about when Raz had cried on the train and how Allen had held her, trying to comfort her somehow. Yes, he had seen in Timcampy's recordings that they had become closer, had heard Raz calling Allen her brother, but to see it firsthand somehow made the fact all the more real.
"Would you look at that… My friend became my nephew and my best friend and him are now like Mana and I were…"
If worded that way, the situation seemed almost funny.
But in truth, it was not funny. Not at all.
XxX
"Allen, are you sure?" Raz asked. It was alright with her, but after the recent events, she'd have thought Allen should rest for a while…? She had not forgotten how he had seemed to shiver on the way to the circus and everything that had happened afterward couldn't have been easy. She could still see the effects in his manners. But Allen shook his head, the face already hidden under the black-and-white makeup, shrugged slightly, almost shyly. By now, he already knew better than trying to say it was alright to her.
"I'm sure. We're with almost nothing left…" Her gaze was calm and nothing else, but he sighed as if she had said something. "And honestly, I… I need this. I need to do distract myself for a while, Raz…" Focusing on performance might soothe his mind on other matters and it was all he wanted right now. It was too early to search for bars and it might not be a good idea, seeing he had ended up getting involved in an investigation and might need to testify…
Raz tilted her head, then nodded. There was no need for words, those gestures carried meanings by themselves. Allen couldn't force himself to smile, but some tension left his face, making it seem almost alive once again.
He knew it was a short-term help, that the same thoughts he tried to chain by keeping his attention on something else would free themselves later that night, while sleep refused him. Perhaps they could train afterward, without using their abilities? Just enough to force the body into exhaustion, making it fall asleep quicker?
A small group (mostly children with parents) was gathering closely. Average audience, likely low profit, but such matters escaped the mind once one started the juggling and acrobatics.
This time, before he started, a small voice from the corner of his mind whispered, in less than a second, what those people would say should they ever learn of the actual nature of the two pierrots and how some of those movements they now saw had been used in actual fights.
For a brief second, a part of Raz's mind, not taken by the concentration yet, invoked Cosimov's face superimposed over the bruise on that child while Tyki Mikk's provocations slithered in her. Not so much his words, but their meaning, in a needle of poison. She kept her balance on a large ball, using only one hand, legs falling forward, twisting her own body. Her movements became almost savage before a cat-like jump made her land on one foot right at Allen's side.
Allen never stood still while he juggled. He made a dance of it, a ball on the tip of a foot while he tossed another in the air, turning before he kicked or jumping, making a ribbon appear apparently out of nowhere… Just leave the mind behind, let the body act almost by itself…
Just dance, just forget everything…
On the second act, Raz stood still. Her own silence, the different quality it seemed to have from the rest of the show, spread through the audience while Allen picked a flute… Her eyes only met him briefly, but he saw something had just crossed her mind.
Omae to itami wo – I'll commit any sin
Wakearu nara – If that allows me
Donna tsumi mo okasou – To share your pain
Allen hesitated just for a second. This wasn't the song she had suggested, but he found that he had no complaints.
His eyes smiled at her. She responded in kind.
Without them knowing, Neah was hearing and seeing what was happening. There was no emotion flowing from him with enough strength for Crown Clown to have an idea of what he might think of this, except that he was not surprised and had already wondered if those two would ever use the whole song in some presentation.
He knew, from Timcampy, that Allen had heard Raz back when she had remembered the song in Liverpool, at Mother's house and that she had, later, taught him the whole song… Allen himself had sung a part on the day he had met that samurai guy, after all.
It was a song Neah knew well… He had already heard Raz singing it…
A long time ago…
Omae ga shindara – When you die
Koori no hoho ni – Your cold cheek
Ichido dake Kiss shite – I'll kiss even if only once
Allen approached the girl, bowing in a manner of silent invitation which Raz answered by crossing her arms over her chest, the delicate gesture and the way her body leaned back giving start to a new dance. Allen went around her, on the end of his toes, his eyes never leaving hers. It was as if, at least for that moment, they were no longer thinking about the performance or not as much as they were making use of what they know to convey a message to the other.
The symbolism of the whole ordeal was right in the face… Once more, while he might have found this amusing some other day, it wasn't the case now.
And underneath the irony that he could find in the scene, what Neah heard were echoes from a graveyard.
Allen: Tabi ni deyou – Let's go on a trip
Raz: Tabi ni deyou – Let's go on a trip
Allen: Kyou kara futari – Starting today, the two of us
Traveling… Their promise, although made so long ago, was still fresh not just in Raz, but in Neah as well.
The girl, however, tried to ignore whatever it might stir in herself, the song and the focus on the present helping to drown a possible reaction while people kept watching, taken by the spell made by such shows, the meticulous movements creating a story with no words. Allen, the flute now forsaken, had more freedom of gestures, his own somehow completing Raz's. While the dance in itself was one of those they had trained and prepared beforehand, the emotions were not crafted or faked.
While he was seeing this through Allen's eyes, Neah still felt more like a part of the crowd than the dance.
Raz: Erica no hana no kodoku mo kasanete – Gathering the lonely erica flowers
Allen: Kodoku na kage kasanete – Gathering our lonely shadows
Oh, yes… Loneliness… There was a good term to be used now, wasn't it?
Neah kept seeing Raz's face under the makeup, feeling the echo of Allen's movements (almost a ghost, he wasn't in a position that allowed him to feel much physically), the way they seemed to be telling a story, the way ballets did.
Well, not that people would find this a pleasant story if they knew what was really being narrated under all this.
"Our promise…" He found himself thinking. Regardless of how things had ended up, he couldn't say it hadn't ever mattered.
But he had done what needed to be done.
For him and for Mana.
Raz: Tatta hitori Umareta no wa – I was born alone
Allen: Aa Hitori umareta wake wa – Yes, the reason I was born alone
Allen: Yorisoiau tame da ne – To lean close to you
Raz: Kitto futari Deau tame da ne – Is that so the two of us could meet
Allen held Raz, his chest against her back as her arm slithered until her hand rested on his, her head leaning back, keeping the position before he held her waist and raised her easily.
Road hadn't lied when telling Allen that Neah had fought for Mana. It hadn't bothered him that she had said so, since she had kept the details for herself… A part of him was strangely… Glad, he supposed, that even after everything, she respected what had happened and his reasons enough to not divulge them.
He was sure Allen would understand once he remembered everything.
He already had, after all…
Allen: Tomo yo Sore ga sadame – My friend, that is our fate
Raz: Tomo yo Sore ga sadame dakara – My friend, since that is out fate
Ambos: Namida wa Mou iranai – We don't need tears anymore
He felt a tug of sorts, the closest way to describe how it was when Crown Clown sent a wave towards him. The Innocence was being careful, only allowing him to feel a slight curiosity coming from it and that seemed to be regarding Allen. There was a certain seriousness, as well.
Well, the Innocence was always serious when it came down to Allen and it didn't seem to be in a good mood today. One of the rare occasions Neah could not only understand it, but agree as well.
Innocence wanted to remind him that it wouldn't allow him to take over Allen and a polite question regarding how he had just thought that Allen had somehow become his nephew. Neah considered for a moment but didn't feel particularly like making conversation with the Innocence.
It sufficed to say that he wanted Allen to remember their own promise… That had happened a long time before Allen had become an Accommodator.
Allen: Tatta hitori Umareta no wa – Yes, the reason why I was born alone
Raz: Aa Hitori umareta wake wa – I was born alone
Allen: Yorisoiau Tame da ne – To get close to you
Raz: Kitto futari Deau tame da ne – Is so that the two of us could meet
A protest from the Innocence, made in the way of one knowing the other won't hear or care. Even that was laced with echoes of the Innocence's care for Allen, making Neah react with the feeling of one rolling his eyes. Once, he had considered using the deeper point of Allen's existence, the place where there was nothing but the person himself and where he had once chained him to a chair, to try attempting a clearer communication with Crown Clown, but decided against it.
That would only be possible if he were to drag Allen to that point as well.
Another poke from Crown Clown. This time, he couldn't say what the Innocence meant… Whatever emotion or meaning in the gesture had recoiled in the last moment, making it empty. Neah didn't care and let it go.
Allen: Tomo yo Sore ga sadame – My friend, that is out fate
Raz: Tomo yo Sore ga sadame dakara – My friend, since this is our fate
Allen: Namida wa Mou iranai – We don't need tears anymore
Raz: Namida wa Mou iranai – We don't need tears anymore
Nor Raz or Allen seemed to truly listen to the muttering from the audience or the applause, still lost in what they had said to each other without words. Neah almost felt a sort of satisfaction from Crown Clown, so perhaps somehow Allen was feeling a little better?
That might be. And perhaps there were certain truths in that song about the two of them…
But he had doubts about that last part.
Ana: I ended up posting them later than I had announced, but hey, here it goes. New chapter!
Alison: I have the sensation your readers won't be quite satisfied with Cosimov just going to jail. I'm just saying.
Lauren: I don't blame them. Kanda, does your sword still cut normal things? Like, you know, flesh and blood?
Ana: And I thought she was the cute, easy-going one of the bunch...
Kanda: I don't know. I could test it, though...
Ana: Hey... Kanda? Why are you looking at me? Test this theory on Allen!
Kanda: Oh, don't worry. He is right after you in my list.
Allen: You're both jerks...
Animo: Oh, sorry. As for Raz, well, I can't say. I mean, for now, she isn't even considering any sort of relationship like this and it isn't as if there's anyone catching her eye, as far as we know. If it happens or not, well... Can't say.
Raz: I think I have enough to deal with without romance, thank you very much.
Will'nr: Yup, I went right on the face with that one, honestly. I really like that book and since they were in a circus, I decided to use that name. No reason besides my own weird mind.
Wisely: Weird is a way of putting it...
Ana: I feel like he's trying to offend me, so I'll ignore it. I'm thankful you liked that little detail! Oh, that's an idea. I love to read the theories of what will happen (be in the fic or the manga), especially regarding the issue with Allen and Neah. I like that idea, I wonder if Hoshino will do something of this sort...
Neah (pale): That... That's kinda harsh, isn't it?
Ana: I like it! It's like, "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream" situation! Horrifying, nightmare-inducing, a long torture of darkness and despair... Love it!
Alison: So not surprised... But for once I agree!
Neah: N-Now, now... Why do you all hate me like that? I haven't done anything to deserve that... Well, yet.
Ana (sweetly): Oh, Neah... Maybe if you weren't trying to erase Allen, we wouldn't be so eager to lynch you.
Lauren: In other words, you're an ass. More than the Earl.
Neah: I'm not that bad!
Ana: ... I'll pretend I didn't hear that.
SeventhStars35: Hey there, missed you! Glad to see your new account, friend! Haha, nope. Where would the fun in that be?
Allen: In other words, our suffering is amusing?
Ana: Kinda. Yeah, to be honest, I worried it would feel like that, but I had not posted in a long time and while I had a sort of filler between those chapters originally, I felt it would be better to hurry things up, you know? Oh, who knows?
Tyki: What I am is actually quite pissed off at her.
Ana: And I bet she couldn't care less. Anyway, hope you liked the interaction between Allen and Cosimov. I don't have much experience with police procedure scenes (and yes! You noticed! Yes, the names are a reference! I seem to do that a lot, don't I? Hehe). I have read the last chapters and... Yeah, pretty heartbreaking. That guy honestly made me sick...
Lauren: I think the Earl is falling on the ranks of "Most Hated Character" in the manga. Like, first Apocreep took the Number One spot, now this guy...
Ana: About the contest... Well... You were the only one who sent pairings. So, you know, just can't suggest a voting between those like I had planned. BUT! Don't worry. I decided I'll draw only the pairings you suggested (including the fourth one!). I know you were anxious for the votes and stuff, but hope you'll still enjoy the drawings all the same. Thanks for supporting me, girl. You're great!
As for whether Neah and Raz had something in the past... I'll say what I always say: Who knooows? -evil smile-