The Devil’s Symphony
Disclaimer: I’m so happy D.Gray-Man is back! Unfortunately, it doesn’t belong to me. And thank goodness for that. Otherwise it would suck.
Chapter 7:
A/N: Enjoy. *raises a cup of wine to you, then sips it.*
He had never planned on it, but his body moved on his own.
After their meeting the previous afternoon, Allen had been contemplating whether or not he should bring up his dream.
Lenalee had noticed his sudden anxiety as these thoughts ran through his mind while they sat around the fireplace and watched television; he hadn’t taken a sip of his hot chocolate and had been silent throughout the whole two hours they had been seated in place, watching Mission Impossible III.
And just as she thought this, Allen spoke up.
“Komui-san,” he began, “There is something important I need to tell you.”
The older man’s eyes flickered away from the TV to catch the look on Allen’s face briefly.
“Yes, Allen?”
Lenalee watched silently, her eyes following the two men’s movements carefully.
Allen suddenly looked sheepish to have wanted to tell Komui what he had been thinking.
“I-”
He stopped short, recomposing himself.
“I had this dream…”
Lenalee withheld her shock from her expression ad sipped her hot chocolate.
She hadn’t anticipated this.
She hadn’t thought that Allen, who disclosed his dreams not even to her, would easily reveal them to her brother.
“Go on.”
Amethyst eyes followed Allen’s Adam’s apple as he gulped.
“There was a city.”
He took a breath, perspiration already forming in little droplets on his forehead.
“It was completely whitewashed. Entirely white, and empty of inhabitants.”
This time, he looked Komui in the eyes, seemingly more confident of reconciling the whole matter.
“And In the middle of this city, there was a large building. And probably the biggest building there.”
Komui raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Allen closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as he recalled the events in his dream.
“Piano. The sound of a piano being played came from the building. I went in search of the piano and its player.
“And I found him after a while. A peculiar man, dressed profoundly in a tuxedo of a style I’ve never seen before.”
He leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling.
“He told me that I must see ‘the old man’.”
Lenalee considered this.
What old man?
“He said that the ‘old man’ would explain. That he would teach me.”
Komui sipped his coffee.
Looking up at Allen, he asked, “And have you any idea who this ‘old man’ is?”
The boy turned, shook his head.
“Hmm.”
Then, there was silence.
-
“What the hell did we get called back here again for? You’re wasting my precious practice time!”
Kanda had the usual scowl on his face, a look of sheer irritation, as he set his violin case down.
“Oh, come on Yuu! Lighten up!”
Lavi steadied his own instrument on his lap carefully with trained hands.
“How many times have I told you not to call me that you imbecilic asshole of a rabbit?!”
Lenalee sighed, and Allen sweat-dropped.
Komui sipped his coffee.
“Well…”
Komui lowered his mug, cupping his chin thoughtfully.
“Allen-kun here had a dream.”
This the two eighteen-year-olds had not expected.
At all.
Even Lavi couldn’t hide his disbelief.
“What did you say?”
The samurai’s voice was low, dangerous, his eyes overshadowed.
Allen had to stop himself from cringing away from the murderous glare.
“I said Allen-kun here had a dream,” Komui reiterated, using the suffix Lenalee had given the white-haired boy.
Kanda was fuming now, silently, but definitely fuming.
His hand trembled, hovering lightly over the hilt of his katana.
“So let me get this straight.”
He stepped up to Komui, being about his height, and looked him straight in the eyes.
“You called us over because this stupid bean sprout had a dream?”
Komui nodded happily, not sensing the tense atmosphere in the room.
And then Kanda snapped.
“YOU’RE WASTING MY PRECIOUS PRACTICE TIME, DAMMIT!” he bellowed, and Lavi could almost imagine the steam rising from his ears.
“Well, see…”
Komui’s eyes flashed.
He was being rather patient.
“This dream he had, in my opinion, has something to do with the akuma situation.”
Allen looked up at the twenty-nine year-old in surprise.
“But there was no mention of the akuma in the dream,” he pointed out.
“No,” Komui began, “there wasn’t.”
Lenalee instantly knew what would happen next.
“But I have a hunch.”
Lenalee smacked her forehead with her palm.
Allen could do nothing but blink in speechless astonishment.
But Lavi, he was busy trying to contain his amusement. Because Kanda Yu’s face…
“You have a hunch?”
…was just too funny.
The samurai was trembling with rage.
But he didn’t snap.
Thankfully.
Or not.
Mugen was unsheathed in a flash, the tip pointing distinctly at Komui’s Adam’s apple.
“Yes, I do.”
Komui smiled again and sipped his coffee once more in spite of the circumstances.
He utterly ignored the sharp edge of the sword that was pointed at his neck, and began to speak.
“See, Allen says in his dream…”
He proceeded to elucidate the boy’s dream, ignoring the glares he received from Kanda, whom had given up and sheathed Mugen.
“So now I’d like to ask you what kind of inferences you can make.”
Kanda leaned back against the couch.
“It’s just a stupid dream. What kind of dumb inferences can you make?”
Lavi’s emerald eye flashed with amusement.
“Well, Yuu, you see, maybe Komui was trying to make a reference to music.”
Lenalee perked up at this idea.
‘If Lavi is referring to music, then maybe…’
Her eyes widened at the thought.
She could see where both Lavi and her brother were going.
“The piano here suggests something don’t you think?”
The redhead cast his gaze on the ceiling, cupping his chin thoughtfully.
“Think about it. It’s probably with reference to music.”
But Kanda was still in his raging denial, irritated.
“Baka usagi. That doesn’t prove anything. Like I said, it’s a dream.”
“Aha, that is where you are wrong Yuu. Let me explain.”
Kanda twitched, annoyed, as Lavi carelessly used his first name.
“Allen-chan, how many old men do you know?”
The white-haired boy blinked.
How many old men did he know?
“Uh… Age range?”
Lavi’s emerald eye twinkled in amusement.
“Any person you might consider elderly.”
Allen raised an eyebrow questioningly, but said nothing.
“Hm.”
He thought for a moment.
“One, I think.”
Suddenly his eyes widened in realisation.
“OH!”
The Bookman apprentice smiled.
“Understand now?”
“You mean…”
“Yep. I think the mysterious person from your dream was trying to tell you to meet whoever this old man you know is.”
Komui nodded in approval.
“Good analysis, Lavi, as expected of you, a Bookman apprentice.”
The boy smiled faintly at the compliment as Komui’s eyes cast a fleeting look at him from the corner of his eyes.
“But there is something you missed out.”
The eighteen-year-old smirked.
“I always leave the best parts for you. You know that.”
The redhead began to unzip his viola case.
The bespectacled man proceeded then to question Allen as Lavi had.
“Allen-kun, who is this old man you know?”
He did not hesitate to answer, and by this time, even Kanda had become engrossed in the whole transgression of the conversation.
“That would be Mr Tikano down at the music shop ‘The Devil’s Symphony’.”
Again, Komui nodded, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
“Lenalee, Allen. Would you kindly fetch your instruments?”
“Kanda-kun, I’d like to see your violin as well.”
Said eighteen-year-old “Che”-ed at the suffix Komui had given him, slightly irritated.
Allen and Lenalee returned with their respective instruments.
They sat around the coffee table.
“Alright. Let’s first look at Kanda-kun’s violin. Kanda-kun, if you would please read the label inside your violin?”
The samurai raised an eyebrow but went with Komui’s request nonetheless.
He swiftly unbuckled the violin from the case, and slid his fingers in between the openings, gently lifting out the delicate instrument. He set it down on his lap gingerly.
It was the darkest ebony Allen had ever seen.
Had he not seen it up close, he would have mistaken it to be a black coloured violin.
What’s more, the strings were undoubtedly pure gold.
It was probably one of the most mystical things Lenalee had ever seen in her lifetime.
A violin that looked as though it had been crafted by the angels and God’s hands themselves.
And the sound was so heartbreakingly striking, beautiful. Like nothing else she had ever heard before.
It sang so painfully, as though poisoned by the devil.
But the beauty did not show only in the violin and its voice.
Lenalee had seen Kanda play many times before, sometimes having performed along with him on her cello.
The magnificent, magical way his hands wove the music was almost too perfect; everything was in perfect position, right elbow stilled, wrist easily manoeuvring the bow over the strings.
The sixteen-year-old had seen this instrument one too many times, but her mind had not been able to process its brilliance and perfect structure. She didn’t think she would in the coming future either.
But she hadn’t seen Allen’s violin.
The white-haired boy gaped in awe as Kanda peered through the sound holes, straining his eyes to read the label inside.
(A/N: Okay, bad time for an Author’s note, but I need to tell you guys: The labels inside their instruments are actually in Latin(or Italian, I don’t know). They can read them though. I don’t know how. They just can. xD)
“Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1706.”
The twenty-nine year-old nodded and then asked yet another question.
“Where did you get your violin?”
“It was handed down from the earlier generations of my family, supposedly first bought from a famous violin maker of the North-east areas. Somewhere in Europe. That was a hundred years ago or so.”
“It’s a genuine Stradivarius violin, isn’t it? Not a copy?”
Kanda stared at him as though he were stupid.
“Considering the label, obviously it’s a genuine Strad,” he stated, emphasising on the word ‘obviously’.
Komui remained ignorant towards the samurai’s sarcasm.
“Alright. Let’s look at my precious Lenalee’s cello next.”
He turned to face his sister.
“So, what does the label say in your instrument?”
Lenalee peered into the body of her cello through the sound holes.
Lenalee’s cello was a beautiful dark colour, just like Kanda’s violin.
A lovely ebony woodwork with golden strings.
It had a beautiful sound that stood in great contrast to Kanda’s violin.
It produced a low mellow sound that sent waves of peaceful tranquillity through the air, sounding like a lower-key version of a choir of angels.
“Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1718.”
Komui smiled proudly.
“Obviously a genuine Stradivarius instrument. Origin?”
Lenalee sighed at her brother’s childish demeanour.
“Our mother and father left this behind for me. They said that their ancestors bought it from an Italian string instrument maker in Cremona.”
Allen caught Lenalee cringing from the corner of his eyes.
Komui did not falter at the mention of their parents.
“And Lavi, what does your viola label say?”
Lavi’s viola was a sweet honey maple colour that made one think of summer warmth in the sunshine. It gave off a warm fiery feeling.
The corpus of the viola was wider than that of a violin, an orange colour aflame on the wood, spread out wider.
Practically glowing, it was a sight to behold.
Lenalee was convinced that she had never heard a happier sound.
“Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1717.”
“Again, a genuine Stradivarius instrument. Origin?”
Just then Kanda decided to speak up.
“Che, Komui. You biased bastard,” he muttered, irritation showing clearly on his face.
The man smiled earnestly.
“Why, thank you Kanda-kun.”
The samurai twitched irritably at the suffix given to his name.
Lavi sweat-dropped uneasily.
“Panda bought it from ‘The Devil’s Symphony’ when we first arrived in this town.”
Allen was slightly awed.
They all owned one of Antonio Stradivari’s historically famous instruments each.
Finally, twenty-nine year-old turned to Allen, a more serious look in his eyes.
“And yours Allen?”
Said fifteen year-old bit his lip.
His master had told him not to show the violin to people.
“W-Which one?”
“Both, please. Starting with the one you borrowed from Mr Tikano’s shop.”
Allen looked over the russet coloured violin cautiously before peeking into the sound holes, spotting the same Latin writings all over the label.
It said the same thing as all the others.
“Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1720,” he recited, perfect intonation in his words.
“Whoa. 289 years-old. That’s the youngest of all the instruments here,” the redhead commented enthusiastically, appalled.
Komui’s eyes shifted between the occupants of the room.
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”
He looked at the white-haired boy over the rim of his glasses.
“You don’t happen to know its origins do you?”
“Well…” the boy began, “According to Mr Tikano, it was something his ancestors or great grandfathers made.”
He tapped a finger against his chin.
“But that would mean that Mr Tikano is a relative of the Stradivaris.”
The redhead nodded.
“A helluva distant relative.”
“Alright. What about the other violin?”
Allen scratched the back of his head.
“Master Cross told me not to show anyone…”
He looked up at Komui, looking him in the eye intensely.
“Then again, you’ve already seen it haven’t you?”
Lenalee’s eyes widened at the fifteen year-old’s words, slightly surprised he would bring it up.
Lavi sensed the sudden tense atmosphere, and sat up from his slouch.
Something was going on, but he couldn’t tell just what it was.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Komui replied simply, waving it off easily.
Allen nodded, and plastered a smile on his face.
But Lenalee could tell he was nervous.
Unbuckling his black violin case this time, he revealed a carefully sustained violin, covered by soft satin cloth.
Kanda- obscur ailé chevalier(black winged knight)
Lenalee- crépuscule colombe(twilight dove)
Lavi- minuit soleil(midnight sun)
Allen- Lucinia Soir Ciel (nightingale of the evening heaven)
♪.moonrise.♪
-
♪.Sing to the Heaven of the Dawn.♪
§//.Melodramatic obstinate love haunts the ensanguined hearts of the broken.The torn melodist sings his final aria of dreams.\\§
