Okay, So this is for emergency's sake, so don't go commenting. this is Allen's work I've beta-read and edited, so, here's to Allen. (;
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(Edited version)
My story of the Sea
Relax, take a breath and imagine the smell of salt air and the cries of gulls. Feel the soft sand under your feet and dive into your memories of the sea. How has the sea touched your life? For me it is the greatest memory the sea has ever bestowed upon me.
“Stupid sea! Because of you, Daddy has to go away every now and then, leaving us alone in the house.”
My grandson, John, sulked as he tossed a few pebbles into the waves. They slowly disappeared as the currents quickly devoured them, pulling them back into the water.
His father was about to leave. As a sailor, his job required him to leave home several times a year, leaving only brief periods of his life being set aside for his family. John disliked my son’s job because of these conditions, but he disliked the sea even more. He hated that it took his father away from them, making their relationship grow distant.
As he continued on sulking like a spoilt brat, a smirk spread across my wrinkled face.
(I edited the shadows part because the boy seems to know of the presence of his grandfather. Think about it. But you have the original, so if you want it back, you know what to do.)
My grandson, I thought to myself, was just like I had been when I was about his age.
“You shouldn’t blame the sea you know. It’s not the sea’s fault; moreover the sea brought great joy to two siblings.”
“The sea brought joy? What do you mean grandpa? How can that be possible when it always takes Daddy away from us?”
“Oh well, I just have to try and recall what took place in the year 1920….
“Well, at that time the boy was only 13 years old and his father, like yours, was leaving to set out to sea. He was also sulking and blaming him for not spending time with them especially when his mother was just finishing the gestation period and was nearly nine months pregnant. But they had no choice if they were to survive. His father was the sole breadwinner of the family, earning money for the family. One fateful day, his father decided to take them out to the sea so that they could have fun as a family and rode their little boat gently out to sea. It was summer but the water was the wrong temperature. It had this chilling feeling that made the boy shiver and it was a murky green colour. The boy, Will, wanted to reach out and touch it. But his short arms and the height of the side of the boat would not grant his wishes.
He sulked, irritated by this development.
“Huh. (Don’t use ‘heh’ in essays. It might be poisonous to your grade.) So now even the sea is getting in my way. How nice,” Will had thought to himself.
“Will! Don’t you try to touch the water! You know very well that those short arms of yours won’t reach the water! It will only get you wet when you fall in!” his father warned.
“As a typical teenager, his father’s words only had the opposite effect on the boy. Will decided to do it just to spite him. Will tried his luck once again and plunged his body forward, his fingers somehow just managing to brush against the surface of the water.
“Eeek!!! It’s really cold!”
Will withdrew his hand and just as he was about to pull himself up over the side of the boat, a huge wave crashed against the other side of the boat, tilting to a rather dangerous angle.
At the sudden impact, Will fell into the deep dark shadows of the sea, lacking the time he needed to react.
“My body is so cold. I can’t seem to move. I can’t breathe. Help me!” the boy thought to himself.
However, his silent cries did not seem to penetrate the surface of the cruel ocean around him. Darkness cluttered his mind. Death was just waiting to swallow him when he finally realized how beautiful his life had been. He could feel his heart beating; its potent beat echoing in his ear.
“Is this the end?” Will thought.
He heard voices calling his name and he struggled in a final attempt at reaching the surface, intent on not letting the Devil tear his soul from his body and take his life.
A firm grip tightened around his hand and pulled him up to the surface and air filled his lungs again. Will was petrified with fear when he was pulled to safety.
Glad to be alive, his facial muscles relaxed and a smile lingered on his face. But his smile did not last and his expression became one of absolute horror- his father was fighting the Devil in his place. Streaks of lightning stretched across the evening sky as the onslaught of the storm continued. His father was trying to get back up over the side of the boat but the waves tossed him, up and down, up and down, and up and down again like a helpless paper doll. Will was frozen with fear, rooted to the spot as he stared, wide-eyed, at the helpless figure.
His father, still battling with the strong currents knew he would not make it.
“Will take care of them for m-“
But before he could finish, a huge gulp of seawater forced its way into his mouth and then Will’s father vanished from his sights.
That was the last time Will ever saw his father.
Will stood rooted to the same spot for a few minutes, gaping with obvious disbelief, his eyes blank and wandering. His jaw hung open, numb with shock at the bizarre sight. All he had been able to do was feebly watch it happen. Slowly darkness engulfed him.
“Help me! Help me!”
“I’m coming father! I will save you!”
“Will, no matter what happens, please live on, no matter what….”
“NO! Father please come back! Don’t leave me!”
Will’s his eyes shot open and he bolted upright. Beads of perspiration trickled down the sides of his face, dripping onto his hands. No, it was not the water that had haunted him in his nightmare but rather the raindrops that had emerged from his eyes. A wave of emotions swept over him, and unable to control it, he felt his eyes clouding over.
“Gone….Father is gone now… Forever…” he sobbed to himself.
“Will remember…Always take care of your mother and sister for me….”
Will’s head snapped up at the words that echoed in his head. Where was his mother now? What about his precious unborn sibling she carried in her womb? These thoughts grew restless, urging him to satisfy the desperate yearning for his mother.
And in spite of the fatigue that weakened his body, he searched for his mother, running aimlessly in the looming building of endless white halls.
“Mother, Mother where are you?” Will cried.
He finally reached a ward. But the only thing he could see was a nurse carrying a little baby girl. His mother had disappeared.
He could hear the nurses speaking in hushed voices.
“The poor boy.”
“Will isn’t it?”
“Yeah...Lost both his parents at such a young age.”
There was a pause.
“Now he is left with his baby sister. I wonder how they survived that treacherous storm.”
Will covered his mouth to in an effort to stop himself from screaming. It was all the sea’s fault.
The boy squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
‘I hate it! I hate it! It took away everything from me!’
Ever since then, Will has always treated the cold ocean as his enemy.
As the years passed, the two siblings grew up together. Will was already twenty-three years old while his sister, Wendy, was fifteen.
Although the hatred for the sea stood firm in Will’s heart, he had to support the two of them. He had to take up a job as a fisherman, sacrificing his education.
But he felt it important that his sister went to school in his place.
They were fortunate as their landlord agreed to let them rent a house for 5 pounds every month, but Will still had to take up many jobs. However, due to his young age, jobs were scarce, and his salary was not satisfying at all.
However, what made matters worse was that is sister loved the sea, but Will’s over-protective sister-complex demeanor did not allow her even a toe in the water.
Wendy knew why her brother hated the sea but she did not agree that it was the sea was at fault at all.
The sun was shining brightly in the clear, cloudless sky.
Will cringed at the sudden brightness, his eyes uncomfortable.
It had just become evening now, and it was a perfect time to fetch Wendy from school, despite her insistence on going home herself.
The young man was sure his sister would wander off to the ocean.
He narrowed his eyes.
He wasn’t about to risk that possibility.
Will made his way up the hill routinely, only to find that Wendy had already left to look for him at the jetty.
♪.moonrise.♪
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♪.Sing to the Heaven of the Dawn.♪
I just realised my chapters are too lengthy and are getting boring.
As in, WHEN WILL THE ACTION START?! kind of boring.
-.-
♪.moonrise.♪
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♪.Sing to the Heaven of the Dawn.♪
Chapter three is done~
I haven't really edited it; dealing with lack of time.
But here it is. (; Enjoy.
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The Devil’s Symphony
Disclaimer: Don’t rub it in. I know perfectly well I don’t own D.Gray-Man. Hoshino Katsura does.
–grin- Let’s hope she gets well soon.
Chapter 3: Haunting Darkness (Part 1)
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“Lenalee…”
A sky tainted red with the blood of the dead…The bloodstained carnage, the remainders of a fierce battle…No-one survived…“No… Don’t…”
A figure.Two figures.He sees her. He sees her crying, screaming.But he can’t hear her, can’t hear her lamenting.He can only see her.Watch as she grieves for the dead.“Lenalee…! Lenalee…!”
He can’t breathe, overwhelmed by water.He’s drowning.But she isn’t the only one whose cries are muted.She can’t see him, and it’s like there’s an invisible wall of glass between them and he reaches out towards her, calling out to her.“Lenalee! Lenalee!”
There is a painful jab in his eye and he hears it scream in pain.But as his throat burns mercilessly, no sounds emerge from his mouth.Nothing seems to be able to shatter the silence.He feels strangled now, and his left arm is screaming, but he doesn’t understand.What is causing him all this pain?“Allen-kun..! Allen-kun…!”
He looks to the portrait of agony and torment again.He hears his name.Someone is calling him.Calling him from far away.And it’s her voice.He is brought back to the nightmare by another excruciating blow of pain to his left shoulder, another sent to his chest, knocking whatever air that is left in it.He lets out a painful gasp but is unable to inhale, sucking in only a liquid tainted by death.Another scream escapes him, choked as liquid fills his lungs.His eyes widen.Something’s inside him, just dying to be free.He can feel it tearing through his flesh, the monster within him.It claws at his left shoulder, trying to satisfy its intense craving for bloodshed.“Allen-kun, Allen-kun, wake up!”
The voice is still far away.And as he writhes in pain on the ground, he can’t pay the fretful velvety sound much attention as the piercing pains continue to terrorize him.His silent screams remain unheard.“Allen-kun! Allen-kun, wake up!”
He feels his left eye being wrenched open from the inside and he shrieks in protest at the burning ache that ensues.But again, silence as the blood rolls off his cheeks and onto the floor.His right arm immediately shoots to his eye and he feels the warm, sticky liquid slimy against his fingers.He breathes hard and bile rises in his throat.But what emerges when he gags is something much more different; the liquid is dark red and sticky.“Allen-kun…”
He’s losing the voice now.It’s fading, muted in this dark, dark world and he chances a last glance at the Lenalee, whose screaming and crying he still cannot hear.He feels the monster ripping through the flesh of his left shoulder.He lets out a gasp as there is a terrifying tearing noise.But he can’t hear it.Only feel it.“Allen-kun! Allen-kun! Are you alright?!”
Her voice is back and she’s practically screaming in his ear now, calling his name, asking if he’s alright.But her cries, full of the agony of death are still hushed.He wants to tell her that he’ll be fine, that everything is going to be alright, but asphyxiation still has his airways blocked.A large metallic monster is in place of his original left arm and it starts to drag him away from Lenalee.He looks at the image again for a moment, totally ignoring the burning sensation he feels all over his body…And he feels himself going numb.The pain evaporates and his eyelids are heavy, the black and white world of red skies fading…He sees the blood-soaked ground beneath him disappearing out of sight but doesn’t pay it any mind.He reaches out to the Lenalee in all that remains of the distant portrait with his right hand and his fingers brush against something wet as darkness engulfs him.“Allen-kun, Allen-kun! Wake up! You’re starting to scare me! Are you-”
The ebony-haired girl stopped short, discontinuing shaking him as he awakened unexpectedly and stared at her, his mind blank as his eyes spilt tears of blood. He was breathing hard as if he hadn’t been able to inhale nor exhale for a couple of minutes. And strangely, his right hand was at Lenalee’s cheek, brushing away a small trickle of salty water.
“L-Lenalee…”
His vision was black and white on his left and in colour on his right.
Allen didn’t know what to make out of it.
He saw the same shock and fear in the ebony haired girl’s eyes as he had seen in the past and his heart tightened in pain.
But the boy wasn’t given the time to think about it.
He gasped and his left arm throbbed, numbing. His right arm followed suit, losing all feeling. It went limp abruptly, slamming lightly against the side of the couch.
“Allen-kun…”
Lenalee’s fearful voice shrivelled his heart further.
The fifteen-year-old turned away from the girl kneeling beside his makeshift bed.
“D-Don’t look… L-Lenalee…” Allen choked, coughing into his palm.
The sixteen year-old continued to gaze anxiously at the white-haired boy.
Allen guessed at the question that lingered, unspoken, in the violet orbs which were her eyes.
The answer was pretty obvious.
“I’ll be fine… D-Don’t worry about me… Go back to sleep… Sorry for waking you…” he gasped as a searing pain hit him in the chest.
He clutched it painfully, stifling a cry.
He couldn’t worry Lenalee like this.
And that look in her eyes.
It would haunt him for nights to come.
“Baka!”
There was a light slap on his right shoulder and Allen quivered at the light impact.
He felt so fragile.
“I’m your friend! It’s my job to worry about you!”
Allen coughed again and Lenalee’s tone softened. She attempted to turn the scarred boy around to face her.
“What’s wrong…?”
As he turned around and sat up, his hands went up and covered his bleeding left eye hurriedly.
“N-Nothing’s wrong! Just a case of a weird dream… Eheheh…” he lied.
Lenalee’s expression darkened perceptibly.
Her bangs hid her eyes and Allen felt a bit worried.
“W-What’s wrong Lenalee?”
“You were screaming, Allen-kun…”
There was that dangerous lack of sentiment in her voice again.
Said teenager looked away.
“I came to get a glass of water and when I unplugged my ears, I heard screaming.”
She looked at him with fierce amethyst eyes.
“Why were you screaming?” she demanded, the stern look in her eyes ever present.
“I…I…”
Allen tried to change the subject.
“Uh, Lenalee, why did you have to unplug your ears?” he stuttered nervously.
“Don’t change the subject, Allen-kun.”
She was still staring at him ardently.
“There are people in this apartment building who are very noisy at night. They hold loud parties and such, and as a precaution to prevent complaining, the landlady ordered us to use earplugs when we sleep. I forgot to warn you about it.”
‘She told me not to change the subject but answered my question anyway?’
“W-Well, it’s alright. Everything’s fine now, so you can go back to sleep Lenalee.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“E-Er…”
“Why were you screaming?”
Allen looked away guiltily, his hand still over his left eye.
“Like I said… I had a strange dream…”
He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily with his right hand.
“And…? What happened in your dream to make you scream so terribly?”
“I-It was just a bad dream…”
Allen drifted off.
Lenalee was reaching up to pull his hand away from his left eye.
“Is it your left eye, Allen-kun…?”
The throbbing in Allen’s eye ceased as Lenalee asked this question, and Allen felt it deactivate.
She pulled his hand away from his face and Allen quickly wiped the blood in one swift motion as he brought his hand down.
He looked at Lenalee with his clear blue-gray orbs, locking gazes with her.
“Good morning the two of you!”
Allen jumped, startled by Komui’s sudden entrance.
Lenalee gasped, letting out a startled cry.
The snow-haired boy tumbled off the couch and hit the floor hard, sending a shockwave buzzing through his left arm.
The teen groaned, rubbing his head so that Lenalee wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
Besides, he’d landed on his head too.
It didn’t hurt as much though.
You get used to your head getting knocked into things with a barbaric master like Cross Marian.
-
“Three hundred and eighty eight, three hundred and eighty nine…”
As the counting mounted to four hundred, there was a yawn from the corner.
Allen almost lost his balance.
He flipped off the chair he had been balancing on.
“L-Lenalee!”
“G’mornin’…”
There was another yawn as the girl rubbed her eyes sleepily.
“Why’re you up so early?” the snow-haired boy asked, wiping himself with a towel.
“I always get up this early… I need to make nii-san his coffee…”
She shuffled over to the kitchen doorway as Allen pulled on a clean shirt, leaving the towel draped over his white hair.
He grabbed the bottle of water he’d gotten from the refrigerator earlier and unscrewed the cap.
There was the sound of Lenalee boiling water, fire burning under the base of the kettle, as the white-haired boy gulped down mouthful after mouthful of water.
“So, what’re you up this early for?”
She was leaning on the doorway, holding a glass of cold milk.
There was a thin sweater wrapped around her shoulders and she rubbed her upper right arm as she waited for Allen’s answer.
“Morning routine, I guess. And… I couldn’t sleep after…”
He shrugged, his expression imperceptible under the white fabric.
The ebony haired girl looked away from him and down at the floor.
“Well, Mr Bentley’s coffee house opens at seven, so I’m going to make breakfast. It’ll take a fifteen minute train ride, considering the temperature outside. We can’t walk, so train would be the fastest way across these snow-cluttered roads. It would be best to reach early so we don’t waste too much time in attracting customers,” she stated, still not lifting her head.
Then she looked up.
“So what would you like to eat?”
“Oh. Uh, no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you to make me a breakfast of my liking. I’ll just have…”
Allen didn’t finish his sentence.
Lenalee was glaring at him intensely with a fierce look that portrayed more than the same irritation she’d shown when he’d first refused to accept her offer for a lodging; there was a hurt look in her eyes.
The white-haired boy sighed.
He was sure that Lenalee would be able to get him to do whatever she wanted him to do against his will with that look for as long as he was there.
“Pancakes? Do you have pancake batter?” he said from under the towel.
“Mm-hm.”
“Pancakes would be nice.”
Silence engulfed the room before Allen spoke again, posing a question to Lenalee.
“Hey, you know, you never told me you studied music…”
He watched as the girl turned away from him.
Lenalee was flustered. She could feel the blush creeping up her neck.
“W-Well, I… I didn’t think it was important…”
“Oh.”
She sensed the hostility in his voice.
But the moment she turned around to look at him, his expression proved the feeling she got from his words to be false.
His eyebrows were knotted in confusion and his mouth was set in a tight line.
He seemed to be thinking and was probably trying to determine the connection rather than be angry at her for not telling him her involvement in music.
Then his eyebrows shot up and he looked up at Lenalee abruptly, startling her.
“You’re in the Latitude Music Faculty, aren’t you?” he asked in a little less than surprised tone.
She looked down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes.
“Yeah…”
“No wonder you know so much.”
“Mmn.”
-
“So Allen, you’re a traveller?”
Said fifteen-year old set his glass of orange juice down.
“No, not exactly.”
He tapped a finger on his chin.
“I travel with my master to different places. It’s been that way for three years now.”
Komui smiled.
“Are you an apprentice?” he asked.
Allen didn’t answer at first; his mouth was full of honey-slobbered pancakes.
Lenalee giggled.
“Well,” he said after he had gulped the mouthful of food down, “yes.”
“Oh? What do you study under your master?”
Allen gulped down the orange juice in his glass.
“Music!” he exclaimed happily.
He turned to Lenalee.
“These pancakes are wonderful!”
She beamed.
“Thank you. I’m flattered.”
“Oho…”
The sound that had just emerged from Komui’s lips made Allen and Lenalee turn in his direction.
“Ne, Allen…”
The boy almost backed up and out of his chair at the evil glint in the man’s eyes.
“Y-Yes, Komui-san?”
He stole a glance at Lenalee.
To find she was sipping up her milk.
Allen controlled himself, containing the urge to smack his forehead, and turned back to the crazed looking man.
“Do you think my Lenalee is pretty?”
His eyes goggled.
And from the corners of those big, wondrous blue-grey orbs, Allen could see Lenalee almost choking on what she had just sucked into her mouth.
She coughed and excused herself, needing to use the bathroom.
There was a long pause and the fifteen-year-old thought that Komui had dropped the topic.
His gaze wandered around the room absentmindedly.
“Well, Allen…?”
This brought Allen to look at the older man straight in the face.
There was still an evil glistening spark in the man’s eyes
And the reason he had pressed harder for an answer, was unknown to the boy.
He was flustered, utterly red in the face.
And lucky for him, Lenalee was still away.
“Sh-She…”
He looked around, and in his anxiety, he outright missed the footsteps that were coming around the corner.
But when he answered, his voice was certain.
He smiled as Lenalee appeared in the doorway.
“She’s not just ‘
pretty’. She’s
beautiful.”
-
Lenalee stopped short.
She grabbed the doorway so tight her knuckles turned white.
The girl backed up as quietly as she could and clamped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to silence her haggard breathing.
‘W-What? He thinks I’m beautiful?’
Lenalee almost started hyperventilating.
The words echoed in her head and her all her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind.
‘She’s not just ‘pretty’. She’s beautiful.’
The sentence just kept on ringing, and everything was nothing.
-
Komui looked shocked at first.
Allen grew anxious.
“K-Komui-san?”
He waved a hand in front of the older man’s face.
“Hello?”
Still, nothing happened.
Allen sighed.
“Okay, uh…”
He thought for a moment.
Then, he reached across the table and snapped his fingers a few inches away from the man’s eyes.
Instantly Komui was out of his stupor.
“Sorry, what?”
Allen just stared blankly at him, wishing hard for the same sense of knowing he had encountered the previous night again.
“Oh, right!”
Allen slumped back against the chair.
‘Thank god I don’t have to tell him again.’
“You said Lenalee was beautiful?”
The scarred boy flushed a deep red.
He watched as Komui took a swig of coffee.
“That’s good…”
He laughed, and the white-haired boy watched quietly.
“Almost all of the guys who’ve come by here in the last few years have all said she’s ‘hot’ or, that she was just ‘pretty’. Not one of them has ever said she was beautiful.”
Komui continued eating his breakfast as Allen got up to clean his plate and put it in the cupboard.
“Right, moving on, what were we talking about before Lenalee left?”
Allen shrugged at the question the dark-eyed man had just posed and replied, “Pancakes and my master, I think.”
“Right.”
“Mm.”
There was a momentary period of silence as Allen moved back to his seat.
“So, who’s your master? Is he famous?”
“His name’s Cross Marian. He studied at the Latitude Music Faculty and has been a mentor and teacher there for quite some time. But, according to him, the mentors are supposed to go around the world looking for apprentices. But, I don’t know if he’s famous.”
The boy watched as Komui’s mouth fell open.
“Cross Marian is your master?!”
Allen raised an eyebrow and nodded.
“Holy cows are flying.”
-
Lenalee turned as the last few words escaped her brother’s mouth, knocked out of her stupor.
She’d never heard her brother utter such nonsensical words in her entire life.
“Cross Marian is your master?”
She heard her brother speaking again.
“Uh,” Allen stuttered from behind the wall, “well, yeah, I guess. If by master you mean that you have to travel around with him, and train by paying off his obnoxious debts for him.”
There was a brief pause in the conversation.
Then, Komui laughed loudly.
“What? So that’s what he got an apprentice for?”
There were loud gawking noises, as Allen looked on in shocked silence.
Lenalee chose that moment to enter the conversation, seeing it as a good avenue to enter the room.
“Nii-san, stop being so noisy. You’ll wake the neighbours. It’s a Sunday. People in this apartment sleep in on days like this, you know that,” she said, feigning a sense of unknowing, “And Allen, please get ready. We’re leaving in five minutes’ time.”
-
This was getting pretty intriguing.
How come no one here seemed to care neither about his white hair, his scar nor about his deformed left arm?
They made a very negative impression elsewhere, and no one here seemed to notice?
Allen shook his head, attempting to clear the distressing thoughts that plagued his mind.
He decided to focus on something else.
“Ne, Lenalee.”
“Hm?”
“Who exactly is Cross Marian in the Latitude Faculty of Music?”
Lenalee stared at him.
“What?”
“Cross Marian? How do you know about him?”
She wasn’t exactly lying, just keeping the truth about her awareness of the person from her newfound friend.
Allen too, pondered at the question.
Should he tell her?
He decided that, just in case, he’d tell her the truth.
“He’s my master, so...”
Lenalee stared at him momentarily again.
She pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“Well, in that case...”
Her tone changed, and her face was distorted in irritation.
“He’s the loudest, meanest, most flirty person I’ve ever met!”
She narrowed her eyes.
“And I really don’t like him that much. He always smells like alcohol and beer the few times we’ve crossed paths.”
Her expression darkened.
Allen couldn’t see her eyes in the shadow of her bangs.
“What’s wrong?”
“He took someone away from me.”
The white-haired boy knew exactly what she was talking about.
Well, almost.
Lenalee suddenly let out a startled cry.
“Oh dear! I’m rambling.”
She flushed deeply.
“Sorry, Allen-kun.”
Allen shook his head, smiling.
“I want to hear it. So go on.”
He definitely did want to know about this. It would confirm his doubts on whether or not she was the Lenalee from the memory that plagued his dreams every night.
She shook her head furiously. Allen figured she was trying to clear her head of the scary encounter they’d had with Cross all those years ago.
“No, I couldn’t possibly…”
Storm grey eyes gazed deeply, ardently into deep violet ones.
“Please.”
Lenalee looked away for a brief moment, unsettled by the intensity of his gaze.
“I-“
The sixteen-year-old was cut off as the train shook violently for a second. Allen almost lost his footing.
But he didn’t. Instead, along with a lot of other people, Lenalee did.
“Whoa!”
Arms flailing, she let out a startled cry as she slammed into Allen, resulting in him jerking backwards and crashing into the glass of the window behind them. And, unluckily, the transparent surface shattered upon impact, sending shards of it flying all over.
The white haired boy shielded the girl with his arms, where some of the crystalline shards bounced off, others, digging into the fabric and carving their way into Allen’s skin.
They were falling now, but being unfazed by his painful contact with the small object, he grabbed a random pole within reach just in time.
The ebony-haired girl was squashed against him.
When she looked up, she could see Allen rubbing his head with his free hand.
“Ow...”
He drew it away from his head, looking dazedly at the red liquid smeared over his palm.
Apparently some glass had found its way to his head.
Lenalee gasped.
“Allen-kun! Are you alright?!”
Allen mouthed a silent ‘fine’, and continued to stare at his bloodied hand, astonished.
“No wonder it stings...” he mumbled.
Hearing this shocked Lenalee despite its mild volume, and she made a fretful sound, definitely disbelieving what the boy in question had just told her.
“I’m so sorry!”
Her shrill apology snapped him out of his stupor.
He looked at her, eyes a little confused.
“Relax Lenalee, it’s just a little cut.”
He looked behind him, noting the fact that the train hadn’t been modified for a case of emergency crash; so of course the glass hadn’t been shatter-proof.
When he turned back to Lenalee, he was greeted by a terribly worried face and teary eyes that just about broke his heart.
“W-What?”
“Allen-kun... Your hair... The back of your head... It’s going red...”
He blinked, the fact that would normally incredibly unnerve someone lacking in effect on him.
“Oh.”
He scratched his cheek, looking around them. There were people sprawled all over, the majority being the people who had been standing in the moving train. Most were attempting to get up and Allen could see no injured people. He turned to the girl who was still squashed against his chest whose eyes were shut tight as if deep in thought.
A tear slipped past Lenalee’s eyelids just then, and the white-haired fifteen-year-old became nervous.
“Are you alright, Lenalee? Did any of the glass get to you? Do you hurt anywhere?”
She perked up at his string of worried questions, the contained sobbing noises from her throat stopping.
She pressed in closer to him and he flushed.
“No, I am not! Your head is bleeding, and your hair is going red, but you don’t seem to care!” she whispered angrily.
The light pink on his cheeks faded, and he decided to change the subject, more than a little determined to get rid of the tense atmosphere that had accrued between them.
Besides, he didn’t really care about a little cut.
It was, after all, just a little cut.
“What was that anyway?”
Lenalee gave him no answer, and remained silent.
The boy was slightly unnerved by her reticence, but attempted ignorance.
He turned to look out the window, only to find an endless darkness outside.
‘Crap. We’re in a tunnel.’
Allen bit his lip.
‘If we’re in a tunnel, and another train comes in, this’ll get ugly.”
-
To Ghost: Thanks for comforting me yesterday. Please, get well soon, as am I. You were my inspiration for the last points in this chapter. ^^
♪.moonrise.♪
-
♪.Sing to the Heaven of the Dawn.♪
ALLEN!
THIS IS FOR YOU TO BETA READ!!!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
The Devil’s Symphony
Disclaimer: Look, if I owned D.Gray-Man, we’d be seeing all this crap down here in the anime itself. Especially the violin bits.
Prologue.
His heart beats faster, races, accelerates, adrenaline rushing through his system.
Light filtered out from a large window, lighting his face as he stood in the shower of rain.
He’d been walking around in the cold darkness for so long, that this ray of light blinded him.
Being out at night was something dangerous to do at the end of fall, just when winter was approaching, especially since there was the evident risk of frostbite.
The boy pretty much figured he’d already contracted it.
The ice-cold needle-like feel that the rain pounding on his back disappeared, replaced by the numb feeling of nothingness.
A figure stared out of the window, cup of hot, steaming coffee held loosely in his hands.
His breathing is laboured, and glimmering gemstones of sweat bead on his forehead, where creases line pale skin.
Ugh. It's this dream again. When will it ever be different?
He staggered up the sidewalk, arms tightly curled around the ivory-white instrument in a protective embrace. Blood continued to run its way down his cheek and neck soaking into the wooden instrument, giving it a bronze-red tint.
His left arm was burnt, left eye blinded, as he reached out to press the doorbell adjacent to the gold-rimmed teak door. His arm was already blood red with savage burns that were raw without treatment, and it trembled as more red liquid trickled down the short length of it, the forearm moving upwards to push the button. The stench of iron was lost in the rain.
He remembers the distinct smell of blood. He remembers the texture of the violin he held that had been soaked in water, tainted in blood. His blood.
His right eye was dull, blank, and the door opened moments after the sound of the bell rang, sketchy against the sound of rain beating against the windows. A small figure is revealed from behind the white-painted door, a silhouette against the light that shines from within the hall behind her.
“Nii-san, Nii-san!”
Her high, soprano voice barely reached him. But he noticed the worry in her tone.
It’s the sound of wind chimes, he was sure, the sound of wind chimes and bells.
The voice of an angel.
Even in this hallucination, in this memory that is brought to the foregrounds of his mind every night, he can hear it loud and clear, echoing in his ears.
A man came to stand behind her, and his determination dissolved into nothingness, as he staggered further forward, loss of blood and fatigue taking its toll. He collapsed, slumping forward, earning a startled cry from the girl.
A drastic change.
The nightmare turns into a dream here, he’s certain; he’s memorized its every scene, its every insignificant detail.
The girl ran forward quickly to catch him in an embrace as the older man dived to make a grab for the delicate, fragile instrument that fell from his arms.
As much as he loves his rare white violin now that he can finally play it, how grateful he is that the man had caught his violin before it had managed to get damaged with the impact from the fall, he is more attentive towards the feeling of the girl’s touch in the dream, more sensitive to the fact that she had actually been nicer than the other people he’s seen before that encounter, to have caught him when he fell.
He remembers her warm, gentle hands as they caressed his face, stroking his cheek that night.
He was dripping, water trickling down his face, streaming from his hair onto the floor in tiny beads as it blended with the blood and mud that had been slowly washing away when he’d been outside in the rain, searching for shelter. The tainted liquid continued to dribble down the length of his arms and upper torso as they advanced.
He was fast losing consciousness, and he found it strange that the man carrying him didn’t seem to care about the dirt and grime on his clothes, much less the water that seeped and was absorbed by his own clean, dry clothes.
The boy was tired, but he looked around him, head dizzy from fatigue, eyelids heavy, as he attempted to recognize the surroundings, possibly identify the place.
But his weary silver eyes searched in a blur mosaic of bright lights and the brownish highlights of wooden furniture that whizzed by, the only figure he could really identify as a person being the girl that ran ahead of them, her lithe form standing out of the blurred vision that irritated his eyes. From her height, he could roughly guess that she was only slightly older than he.
He was being carried, and his vision was a blur, the only thing he saw being bright lights and the silhouette of the little girl that clutched his violin. He was brought into a room, and there were lots of children he could see, ranging from toddlers to young teenagers of about 13. They were staring at him, sending worried glances his way, he could see, as his vision cleared up, little by little.
The man sets him down in a tub as their little convoy arrives at the bathroom and disappears, taking the violin the girl had been carrying with him. The girl receives a fast request from the older man that is barely audible to him, and he hears it as “Clean him up and put him to bed. I’ll clean up the violin.”
One of the rather embarrassing moments in his life, yes, but also one of the sweetest.
Her hands were gentle on his skin, comforting, warm and soothing at touch. The left arm still seared, burned, and he knew how deep they went; the skin would never heal completely, and the scars would hurt for as long as he lived. The tub of warm water shattered his nerves, and he couldn’t help but cry out as she tried as gently as she could to wash the blood and infectious bacteria away with a sponge.
He flinches in his sleep, knowing for sure that the next scene will renew the jabs of pain he feels tearing at the seams of his loosely sewn heart since the first time he’s had this dream.
She dabbed at his eye, and it flicked open like a switch, and a blood red pupil stared her down. He felt he eye’s undisputed individual will, felt the girl cringe away from the piercing stare it gave her. He tried his best, willed it closed, and his trembling hands were torn away from their frozen positions at his sides to take away the pain the stare gave the girl.
He first saw her face then, her angelic face, the violet orbs that were her eyes, those glittering amethyst gemstones that betrayed every feeling in her mind. He saw the beautiful features of her youthful face, the ebony bangs that fell on her forehead and long tresses that trickled down from her head, over her shoulders, spilling onto her back.
“I-I’m sorry…” he squeaked out in a weak voice, a voice gentle and careful, traumatized at the same time.
She was quickly out of her stupor, shaking her head, her eyes nervous, guard still up as she replied shakily in her high-octave voice, “It’s o-okay...”
He remembers her fearful voice, and it pains him, a gasp escapes his pale pink lips, eyes still shut tight.
He’d been put to bed, but was too anxious to sleep. Her pained expression haunted him. But then, he heard voices in the hallway; voices of the girl and, as he’d recently learned, her brother.
He tip-toed to the door, eavesdropping on the people speaking in hushed voices.
“It’s a wonderful instrument. It’s got over 500 years of time put into it. I can’t imagine who could have possibly given this child such an instrument!”
“Nii-san, do we have to give it to the police station?”
There was a short period of silence again before the conversation continued; the boy guessed a head gesture from the older brother. He was right. But there was more to be said.
“It came with that child, so we can’t do anything with it, since it should belong to him. We’ll ask him in the morning.”
“Oh.”
He could hear the smile in her voice.
Did this girl like violins?
“I’d like to try this violin out, though you’re the better musician, Lenalee.”
Some quiet, muted laughter was heard. They were probably trying not to wake the other children here.
Her name… For the first time he can hear her name. Or is it just a delusion? Some cruel trick his mind is playing on him? But that can’t be. Where in his past would this name have come from to have been formulated in the dream?
“We’ll give it some time to dry up completely. I’d say that’d be tomorrow morning, at the rate this thing is drying up. It’s extraordinary!”
Giggles.
“Okay, Nii-san. Let’s play Canon in C Major tomorrow morning. It’s my favourite!”
An important aspect in the dream of the memory he relives every night, he notes. With that information, he’d b e all that much closer to finding the girl Lenalee.
No replies were heard and the shutting of doors as their locks clicked into place filled the silence that had quickly taken its place in the boy’s sensitive ears.
He grits his teeth. He really can’t escape this nightmare. There’s the turn for the worst here, the part where he realizes that his foster father’s death hadn’t been just a dream.
He blinked. He couldn’t remember where he was.
There was sunlight filtering in through a window.
And he’d had the weirdest of dreams.
Mana dying… And that angel…
It was brighter then, and now he could look around the room that he was in.
Dark-wood tables and a writing desk, a small armchair, a large wooden wardrobe decorated the room. A dark red carpet that was strewn under it all, to match with the satin curtains that hung beside the large glass window.
This wasn’t his room!
Memories flashed in his head.
It hadn’t been a dream!
Mana was dead!
Mana was dead…
He was numb now.
Tears spilt over the dams in his eyes (wetting the bandage that was wrapped around his left eye socket), and his hands fell from where they had been attempting to wrench his hair out of his head.
“M-Mana…”
He snuffled, sobbed, the tears running down the length of his face steadily now, some even sneaking out from under the red-tinted white bandages.
He was the orphan he had been before the circus now…
His breathing slows, and he’s calmer now, as the dream continues on. He knows the best part-besides the girl catching him- is coming. He smiles in his sleep.
Music echoed in the silence of morning, and the chirping of birds outside stilled.
Violin.
A violin.
Another softer sound made its way to his ears, a more subtle, fluid sound.
There was a soft gasp of awe, and he guessed it to be the older man.
It was a beautiful sound, and the music swelled in his chest, a warm feeling engulfing him.
The sound is still perfectly comprehensive despite the years it has been since the first time he’d had this dream, and he is pleased. He doesn’t want this dream to end.
But this is where things took a weird turn and landed him where he is now. He frowns.
The peace that had accrued from the long tranquil notes played on the two violins shattered with loud banging on the doors.
The boy’s right eye flew open and he gasped.
The music stopped as footsteps thudded loudly on the wooden panelled floor sounding further and further away as time passed.
He heard softer set of footsteps approaching his own room.
The door opened a fraction, and the girl who had cleaned him up appears, padding over to his bed.
She hops into the bed with him, and he is startled.
She is surprised to see him awake, but is witty, and conveys her message swiftly.
“Shh!”
The boy looks at her curiously, confused and bewildered speechless. His eyes ask the question for him.
‘What’s going on?’
The girl answers, understanding the question posed in his stormy grey eyes.
“It might be social services. Yesterday, when we brought you in, someone might have seen you. So we need to hide you before you tell us what your decision is from here on out.”
The boy nodded.
He turned to the door, and he and the girl waited patiently under the blanket.
Voices were heard around the corner, but the boy couldn’t make out the conversation between the new guest and the girl’s older brother.
As the footsteps paused briefly, he heard a very distressed voice: “Please, what are you looking for?”
Then the footsteps continued loudly as the new visitor stormed down the hallway, approaching his room, little by little.
He could roughly hear the booming voice of the man as he approached.
He began to tremble, afraid of what was to come.
“This is his room, right?” the voice demanded, and the younger of the two men replied shakily, “Yes, but…”
The girl gasped, realising what would happen next and pulled the boy under the covers.
He never got to finish his sentence.
He lets a groan escape him, and is whacked harshly, the same noisy voice from back then telling him to shut up because ‘some people want to sleep’.
But this did not pull him out of the dream as it usually did, surprisingly.
The boy sat petrified with horror as a red haired man slammed the door against the wall noisily, hearing the younger man behind him jumping at the sound.
It was from his first impression did he decide to label this man ‘brute’.
The man was intimidating and held the mannerisms of an alcoholic, which the boy was smart enough to tell, considering the obvious stench of the foul-smelling chemical that exuded from the man.
And as he stalked towards the bed, the small boy had to contain the urge to clamber down from his bed and hide under it.
The man made an annoyed noise, and seemed to read his mind.He lifted the bed up effortlessly despite its size and weight with two people on it, much to the small boy’s bewilderment.
He watched as the girl struggled to stay on the bed, and grabbed her arm, pulling her further to the middle of the bed, and was thrown out of the bed himself.
The red-haired ‘brute’ made a disgusted noise at the sight of him on the floor clutching his side, and the boy thought he heard something about him being muttered under his breath. Something like, “His hair is silver too.”
This shocked the boy pretty much, and his painfully throbbing side had lost his attention at that point.
How could he have not noticed the light silver bangs that ran along the length of his forehead? They were utterly conspicuous!
The boy pondered this fact, and before he actually realized it, he was being picked up by his collar, choking.
He was too busy trying to breathe to hear it when the younger of the two adults in the room protested against the brute’s actions.
The girl clambered out from under the bed, unable to watch from the sidelines any longer, and began to scream something he could not make out.
He’s surprised. The dreams didn’t usually escalate to this scene.
The protests continued, but this time, the boy actually heard what the man said.
“What are you doing, Cross?! You may be one of the elite trusted by the Council of Elders, but you do not have the right to take this boy away! He only arrived here last night, and he is not a student of this institution!”
The red-haired man grunted at this statement and moved to the doorway.
But the girl’s next words stopped him in his tracks.
“How could you?! How could you tear a boy from his bed like that when he’s injured and scared?! HOW COULD YOU, CROSS-SAN?!”
This time, the boy was released, and landed on the floor with a light thud; he hadn’t been hanging too high from the ground for it to be dangerous.
“Don’t argue with me little girl. This boy is the holder of the fabled white violin, which I have been tasked to find, and its owner to train.”
He turned to the girl’s older brother.
“Komui, teach your sister. Let her learn her place.”
He turned away.
“This world isn’t as kind a place as you think it is.”
The one named Komui seemed to back down, shrinking away as the boy was picked up once more and hauled away.
“Now, where’s the bloody instrument, Komui?”
He is amused again, even in his slumber, at the irony of this question.
A mutter that was barely audible escaped the bespectacled man’s lips.
The boy could hear the girl crying behind him in the room.But fear shut his eyes tight and he couldn’t bear to look at her.
The brute then marched into a room, liberating the boy from his hold for a moment at the door as he entered the room quietly, much to his surprise. He emerged from the room just as quietly, shutting the door behind him just as reticently, two violin cases in his hands.
The boy stared at him, silver eye wide; the other eye was covered in bandages. The man grunted.
He tossed the smaller of the two violin cases to the boy.
“What are you looking at?” he barked, and the silver haired boy shuddered, his eye closing instantly.
The brute lit a cigarette, and Komui’s voice came again, protesting and intolerant, telling the red-haired brute not to smoke inside the dorms of the children.
And before he knew it, the boy had been dragged out of the building, again by the collar, and then, they were gone.
The train jerks to a stop and two large silver eyes fly open as the doors unbolt automatically and wind rushes into the train from outside. He’s thankful for the coat he has. That idiotic master of his hadn’t bothered to get him one. What kind of idiot wastes money and accumulates debts from non-essentials like beer instead of the fundamental stuff like clothes?!
He runs a hand through his unkempt white hair, aggravated. He’s usually paying off those debts afterwards after all. He sighs, hoping that the train ride will go by quickly and they can get off at their next destination.
As if he’d read his mind, Cross Marian pulls him to his feet, muttering “wish granted.”
A violin case is thrust into his arms and he is kicked outside harshly, the wind knocked out of his lungs.
He lands on his back, just as his ‘assailant’ had intended, shielding the violin from the hard impact that awaited him.
He groans as he gets up slowly, and, with his free hand, rubs the back of his head, which has also, unfortunately, come painfully in contact with the cement floor of the train platform.
A map and a small suitcase are then thrown into his face, and a sickening thud follows.
“Jeez…”
Allen rubs his nose as he picks up the map, the suitcase and the violin case, getting to his feet.
But just as he stops rubbing his nose, yet another object is hurled at him. A compass is flung at him, smacking with full force into his face.
And just as the train doors close, he sees his master smiling wickedly at him, eye-the one that isn’t hidden by the mask covering the right side of his face- minimized to a single line that curved upwards in the middle.People stare at his master, and those who are awake usher children out of the passenger car and into the ones on either side of it.
The train leaves the station as the snow-haired boy gets up, dusting himself off, his violin case and suitcase on either side of him. The map is in his coat pocket.
And finally, once it is out of sight, he sighs, the blank expression on his face dissolving into a half-scowl-half-sigh expression.
He’ll have to find this place himself.
He glances at the station clock.
It’s getting late. And now he has to find a place to stay the night.Frustrated, he sighs.
But then a voice calls him.
"Are you alright?"
He looks up to see the heart-shaped face of a girl. She’s smiling.
'She doesn't look like a local...'
"Er, yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."
Violet eyes, light porcelain skin, and ebony bangs.
‘Like…’
He picks up his violin case, the sling going over his shoulder. He takes a moment to shut his eyes, the memory of the girl known as ‘Lenalee’ in his dream flitting back to the foregrounds of his mind.
There’s a slight dark blush creeping across the girl’s cheeks as well, he notes.
‘That sure confirms it. Usually the locals have adapted to the cold weather in their countries or regions. If her face is still showing some form of a dark shade of pink, that must mean she’s not accustomed to the temperature. Besides..’
He looks her up and down, scanning her features as she turns to face away from him walking away.
'…she looks Asian.'
Then he gets an idea, starting to move towards the girl.He calls after her.
“Hey, wait! Do you know how I can get to the Latitude Music Faculty?”
A/N: Alright guys, I’m sorry about the weird grammar/tenses. The rest of the story will be in past tense and in a more basic narrative style. Also, I’ve edited it as well as I can, so yeah, wish me luck, because this is my best, and don’t expect much; I’m not usually this hardworking. So I apologize beforehand for future chapters which are late, as well as any grammatical errors.
♪.moonrise.♪
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♪.Sing to the Heaven of the Dawn.♪
Hello!
(:
As you can see, I've upgraded! 8D
I changed the blogskin and it's nice, eh? (:
hhee.
I'm a bit distracted still nowadays, so don't expect any chapters soon. (;
Hee.
See ya.
♪.moonrise.♪
-
♪.Sing to the Heaven of the Dawn.♪
The Devil’s Symphony
Disclaimer: Don’t rub it in. I know perfectly well I don’t own D.Gray-Man. Hoshino Katsura does.
–grin- Let’s hope she gets well soon.
Chapter 3:
-
“Lenalee…”
A sky tainted red with the blood of the dead… The bloodstained carnage, the remainders of a fierce battle…No-one survived…“No… Don’t…”
A figure.Two figures.He sees her. He sees her crying, screaming.But he can’t hear her, can’t hear her lamenting.He can only see her.Watch as she grieves for the dead.“Lenalee…! Lenalee…!”
He can’t breathe, overwhelmed by water.He’s drowning.But she isn’t the only one whose cries are muted.She can’t see him, and it’s like there’s an invisible wall of glass between them and he reaches out towards her, calling out to her.“Lenalee! Lenalee!”
There is a painful jab in his eye and he hears it scream in pain.But as his throat burns mercilessly, no sounds emerge from his mouth.Nothing seems to be able to shatter the silence.He feels strangled now, and his left arm is screaming, but he doesn’t understand.What is causing him all this pain?“Allen-kun..! Allen-kun…!”
He looks to the portrait of agony and torment again.He hears his name.Someone is calling him.Calling him from far away.And it’s her
voice.He is brought back to the nightmare by another excruciating blow of pain to his left shoulder, another sent to his chest, knocking whatever air that is left in it.He lets out a painful gasp but is unable to inhale, sucking in only a liquid tainted by death.Another scream escapes him, choked as liquid fills his lungs.His eyes widen.Something’s inside him, just dying to be free.He can feel it tearing through his flesh, the monster within him.It claws at his left shoulder, trying to satisfy the intense craving for bloodshed.“Allen-kun, Allen-kun, wake up!”
The voice is still far away.And as he writhes in pain on the ground, he can’t pay the fretful velvety sound much attention as the piercing pains continue to terrorize him.His silent screams remain unheard.“Allen-kun! Allen-kun, wake up!”
He feels his left eye being wrenched open from the inside and he shrieks in protest at the burning ache that ensues.But again, silence as the blood rolls off his cheeks and onto the floor.His right arm immediately shoots to his eye and he feels the warm, sticky liquid slimy against his fingers.He breathes hard and bile rises in his throat.But what emerges when he gags is something much more different; the liquid is dark red and sticky.“Allen-kun…”
He’s losing the voice now.It’s fading, muted in this dark, dark world and he chances a last glance at the Lenalee, whose screaming and crying he still cannot hear.He feels the monster ripping through the flesh of his left shoulder.He lets out a gasp as there is a terrifying tearing noise.But he can’t hear it.Only feel it.“Allen-kun! Allen-kun! Are you alright?!”
She’s practically screaming in his ear now, calling his name, asking if he’s alright.But her cries, full of the agony of death are still hushed.He wants to tell her that he’ll be fine, that everything is going to be alright, but asphyxiation still has his airways blocked.A large metallic monster is in place of his original left arm and it starts to drag him away from Lenalee.He looks at the image again for a moment, totally ignoring the burning he feels all over his body…And he feels himself going numb.The pain evaporates and his eyelids are heavy, the black and white world of red skies is fading…He sees the blood-soaked ground beneath him disappearing out of sight but doesn’t pay it any mind.He reaches out to the Lenalee in all that remains of the distant portrait with his right hand and his fingers brush against something wet as darkness engulfs him.“Allen-kun, Allen-kun! Wake up! You’re starting to scare me! Are you-”
She stopped short, discontinuing shaking him as he awakened unexpectedly and he stared at her, his mind blank as his eyes spilt tears of blood. He was breathing hard as if he hadn’t been able to breathe for a couple of minutes. And strangely, his right hand was at her cheek, brushing away a small trickle of salty water.
“L-Lenalee…”
His vision was black and white on his left and in colour on his right.
Allen couldn’t think of what to make out of it.
He saw the same shock and fear in the ebony haired girl’s eyes as he had seen in the past and his heart tightened in pain.
But the boy wasn’t given the time to think about it.
He gasped and his left arm throbbed, numbing. His right arm followed suit, losing all feeling. It went limp abruptly, slamming lightly against the side of the couch.
“Allen-kun…”
Lenalee’s fearful voice shrivelled his heart further.
The fifteen-year-old turned away, rolling over from the girl kneeling beside his makeshift bed.
“D-Don’t look… L-Lenalee…” Allen choked, coughing into his palm.
The sixteen year-old continued to gaze anxiously at the white-haired boy.
Allen guessed at the question that lingered, unspoken, in the violet orbs which were her eyes.
The answer was pretty obvious.
“I’ll be fine… D-Don’t worry about me… Go back to sleep… Sorry for waking you…” he gasped as a searing pain hit him in the chest.
He clutched it painfully, stifling a cry.
He couldn’t worry Lenalee like this.
And that look in her eyes.
It would haunt him for nights to come.
“Baka!”
There was a light slap on his right shoulder and Allen quivered at the light impact.
He felt so fragile.
“I’m your friend! It’s my job to worry about you!”
Allen coughed again and Lenalee’s tone softened. She attempted to turn the scarred boy around to face her.
“What’s wrong…?”
As he turned around and sat up, his hands went up and covered his bleeding left eye hurriedly.
“N-Nothing’s wrong! Just a case of a weird dream… Eheheh…” he lied.
Lenalee’s expression darkened perceptibly. Her bangs hid her eyes and Allen felt a bit worried.
“W-What’s wrong Lenalee?”
“You were screaming, Allen-kun…”
There was that dangerous lack of sentiment in her voice again.
Said teenager looked away.
“I came to get a glass of water and when I unplugged my ears, I heard screaming.”
She looked at him with fierce amethyst eyes.
“Why were you screaming?” she demanded, the stern look in her eyes ever present.
“I…I…”
Allen tried to change the subject.
“Uh, Lenalee, why did you have to unplug your ears?” he stuttered nervously.
“Don’t change the subject, Allen-kun.”
She was still staring at him ardently.
“There are people in this apartment building who are very noisy at night. They hold loud parties and such, and as a precaution to prevent complaining, the landlady ordered us to use earplugs when we sleep. I forgot to warn you about it.”
‘She told me not to change the subject but answered my question anyway?’
“W-Well, it’s alright. Everything’s fine now, so you can go back to sleep Lenalee.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“E-Er…”
“Why were you screaming?”
Allen looked away guiltily, his hand still over his left eye.
“Like I said… I had a strange dream…”
He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily with his right hand.
“And…? What happened in your dream to make you scream so terribly?”
“I-It was just a bad dream…”
Allen drifted off.
Lenalee was reaching up to pull his hand away from his left eye.
“Is it your left eye, Allen-kun…?”
The throbbing in Allen’s eye ceased as Lenalee asked this question, and Allen felt it deactivate.
She pulled his hand away from his face and Allen quickly wiped the blood in one swift motion as he brought his hand down.
He looked at Lenalee with his clear blue-gray orbs, locking gazes with her.
“Good morning the two of you!”
Allen jumped, startled by Komui’s sudden entrance.
Lenalee gasped, letting out a startled cry.
The snow-haired boy tumbled off the couch and hit the floor hard, sending a shockwave buzzing through his left arm.
The teen groaned, rubbing his head so that Lenalee wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
Besides, he’d landed on his head too.
It didn’t hurt as much though.
You get used to your head getting knocked into things with a barbaric master like Cross Marian.
-
“Three hundred and eighty eight, three hundred and eighty nine…”
As the counting mounted to four hundred, there was a yawn from the corner.
Allen almost lost his balance.
He flipped off the chair he had been balancing on.
“L-Lenalee!”
“G’mornin’…”
There was another yawn as the girl rubbed her eyes sleepily.
“Why’re you up so early?” the snow-haired boy asked, wiping himself with a towel.
“I always get up this early… I need to make nii-san his coffee…”
She shuffled over to the kitchen doorway as Allen pulled on a clean shirt, leaving the towel draped over his white hair.
He grabbed the bottle of water he’d gotten from the refrigerator earlier and unscrewed the cap.
There was the sound of Lenalee boiling water, fire burning under the base of the kettle, as the white-haired boy gulped down mouthful after mouthful of water.
“So, what’re you up this early for?”
She was leaning on the doorway, holding a glass of cold milk.
There was a thin sweater wrapped around her shoulders and she rubbed her upper right arm as she waited for Allen’s answer.
“Morning routine, I guess. And… I couldn’t sleep after…”
He shrugged, his expression imperceptible under the white fabric.
The ebony haired girl looked away from him and down at her shoes.
“Well, Mr Bentley’s coffee house opens at seven, so I’m going to make breakfast. What would you like to eat?” she asked, still not lifting her head.
“Oh. Uh, no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you to make me a breakfast of my liking. I’ll just have…”
Allen didn’t finish his sentence.
Lenalee was glaring at him intensely with a fierce look that portrayed more than the same irritation she’d shown when he’d first refused to accept her offer for a lodging; there was a hurt look in her eyes.
The white-haired boy sighed.
He was sure that Lenalee would be able to get him to do whatever she wanted him to do against his will with that look for as long as he was there.
“Pancakes? Do you have pancake batter?” he said from under the towel.
“Mm-hm.”
“Pancakes would be nice.”
-
“So Allen, you’re a traveller?”
Said fifteen-year old set his glass of orange juice down.
“No, not exactly.”
He tapped a finger on his chin.
“I travel with my master to different places. It’s been that way for three years now.”
Komui smiled.
“Are you an apprentice?” he asked.
Allen didn’t answer at first; his mouth was full of honey-slobbered pancakes.
Lenalee giggled.
“Well,” he said after he had gulped the mouthful of food down, “yes.”
“Oh? What do you study under your master?”
Allen gulped down the orange juice in his glass.
“Music!” he exclaimed happily.
He turned to Lenalee.
“These pancakes are wonderful!”
She beamed.
“Thank you. I’m flattered.”
“Oho…”
The sound that had just emerged from Komui’s lips made Allen and Lenalee turn in his direction.
“Ne, Allen…”
The boy almost backed up and out of his chair at the evil glint in the man’s eyes.
“Y-Yes, Komui-san?”
He stole a glance at Lenalee.
To find she was sipping up her milk.
Allen controlled himself, containing the urge to smack his forehead, and turned back to the crazed looking man.
“Do you think my Lenalee is pretty?”
His eyes goggled.
And from the corners of those big, wondrous blue-grey orbs, Allen could see Lenalee almost choked on what she had just sucked into her mouth.
She coughed and excused herself, needing to use the bathroom.
“Well, Allen…?”
There was still an evil glistening spark in the man’s eyes
And the reason he had pressed harder for an answer, was unknown to the boy.
He was flustered, utterly red in the face.
And lucky for him, Lenalee was still away.
“Sh-She…”
He looked around, and in his anxiety, he outright missed the footsteps that were coming around the corner.
But when he answered, his voice was certain.
He smiled as Lenalee appeared in the doorway.
“She’s not just ‘pretty’. She’s beautiful.”
-
Lenalee stopped short.
She grabbed the doorway so tight her knuckles turned white.
The girl backed up as quietly as she could and clamped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to silence her haggard breathing.
‘W-What? He thinks I’m beautiful?’
Lenalee almost started hyperventilating.
The words echoed in her head and her all her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind.
‘She’s not just ‘pretty’. She’s beautiful.’
The sentence just kept on ringing, and everything was nothing.
-
Komui looked shocked at first.
Allen grew anxious.
“K-Komui-san?”
He waved a hand in front of the older man’s face.
“Hello?”
Still, nothing happened.
Allen sighed.
“Okay, uh…”
He thought for a moment.
Then, he reached across the table and snapped his fingers a few inches away from the man’s eyes.
Instantly Komui was out of his stupor.
“Sorry, what?”
Allen just stared blankly at him, wishing hard for the same knowing he had encountered the previous night again.
“Oh, right!”
Allen slumped back against the chair.
‘Thank god I don’t have to tell him again.’
“You said Lenalee was beautiful?”
The scarred boy flushed a deep red.
He watched as Komui took a swig of coffee.
“That’s good…”
He laughed, and the white-haired boy watched quietly.
“Almost all of the guys who’ve come by here in the last few years have all said she’s ‘hot’ or, that she was just ‘pretty’. Not one of them has ever said she was beautiful.”
Komui continued eating his breakfast as Allen got up to clean his plate and put it in the cupboard.
“Right, moving on, what were we talking about before Lenalee left?”
Allen shrugged at the question the dark-eyed man had just posed and replied, “Pancakes and my master, I think.”
“Right.”
“Mm.”
There was a momentary period of silence as Allen moved back to his seat.
“So, who’s your master? Is he famous?”
“His name’s Cross Marian. He studied at the Latitude Music Faculty and has been a mentor and teacher there for quite some time. But, according to him, the mentors are supposed to go around the world looking for apprentices. But, I don’t know if he’s famous.”
The boy watched as Komui’s mouth fell open.
“Cross Marian is your master?!”
Allen raised an eyebrow and nodded.
-
That's all for now. (:
