The Fine Line

Look! Look! I wrote another one! It’s darker this time though… so I apologize to those of you who read this fic for the fluff. There is still some, there will be more, but at this point, it’s plot, plot, plot. I feel so bad though… I don’t like being mean to characters, even if it makes things better in the long run. //weeps

Disclaimer of Distress: I don’t own D.Gray-man. If I did… I think Allen would cry less.

WARNING: This time, there’s not just boy-on-boy, there’s violence too.
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Thinking is Dangerous

“Like hell you are.” The Japanese man glared down at the smaller boy beside him, determination the only emotion on his face. “You’ll get lost.”

Allen flopped a black sleeve that was too big for his arm at Kanda, attempted to wave him off. “No I won’t! I’ll just walk to the nearest phone and walk straight back to the train. Then follow the train to you. If I know where I’m going I don’t generally get lost…”

“Che. Right.” His voice was dripping sarcasm. “We’ll both go.”

“What happened to efficiency!?” Allen demanded, stopping in his tracks.

Kanda sighed. He was right. There was no reason for the two of them not to split up – and if anyone was going to look for the Innocence, Kanda was the better choice (for many reasons). Besides, Allen had managed to walk places before without getting lost (though Kanda could not remember an occasion) so his fears were only half-founded, maybe even less.

“Fine, but don’t get lost, Moyashi-kun.” Kanda had done it on purpose, so when Allen leaned up to kiss him he met him full on, and he did not give way when he felt Allen’s tongue trace over his lip. Instead he bit back lightly; Allen’s suitcase fell to the ground unthought-of as a hand came up and touched Kanda’s shoulder; Allen’s lips parted gently and he found himself deepening the kiss, touching the inside of his mouth ever so gently. When they parted, Allen’s face was the color of a ripened cherry.

“Since… when… did you…” He was panting. He felt the heat in his face and the warmth in his blood, the growing need to be touched. He had never known that Kanda had this power over him, at least not this strongly. And now the older Exorcist was just smirking down at him, completely calm despite the feeling he had incited.

“It’s not important. I shall meet you at the front of the train in fifteen minutes,” Kanda was smiling, glad that things were back in natural order. He was not supposed to be wanting Allen all the time if Allen wasn’t really wanting him, so this made things balanced – even if he was about to pin that pale body down and tear off all his clothes…

Allen cleared his throat when he had regained a little of his composure. “Shall we?”

They unwound themselves from each other, trying not to look worried. Allen turned north, toward the bulk of the city, while Kanda turned east, the direction of the train station and – hopefully – the Innocence.

Kanda did as much as he could to think about the mission, the task at hand, anything but Allen. It was very, very difficult, but he seemed to manage. He was glad to find that he had some semblance of self-control left, even if it was slowly but surly turning into nothing. He knew that he could only last so long, but how long ‘so long’ was, he did not know.

He breathed in the crisp, cold air, and allowed himself a small smile. Maybe, if things kept up, he wouldn’t need self-control.

The front of the train was not very far away, but Kanda’s eyes were not watching wear he was going. Instead, he was thinking. Thinking about the one thing he had tried not to think about. Thinking was dangerous.

He did not realize how far he had gone until a smear of crimson caught his eye, the color showing beautifully against the pristine snow. Immediately his sense went to high alert, his sword came to his hand, all thoughts of romance forgotten. Where there was blood there was death, and where there was death there was usually something connected to the Millennium Earl.

The body in the snow was male, broad of shoulder and lean of limb, with wheat gold hair and a brown parka. It was hard to tell much else from his distance. He could see no pentagrams on the ground from gunfire, but that didn’t mean that none were there.

Not six feet away the railway was bent at a ridiculous angle, two of the ties moved to lie on the iron that was supposed to be above them. The metal itself was twisted grotesquely, as if to show the strength of whatever thing that had hurt the man beside it.

Gently he touched the shoulder of the man lying in the snow. He could see that he was breathing, but could not tell if he was conscious. Kanda did not usually concern himself with the wellbeing of those caught in the crossfire, but he wasn’t about to just walk past a man who could supply him with information on what was going on here. And there was something going on.

The man groaned. After a moment he blinked open a pair of emerald green eyes bewilderedly, and attempted to sit up. Kanda saw that the side of his face was caked with dried blood, though a fresh supply seemed to be flowing from his head as well, so he pushed him back into the snow – the better to keep him from hurting himself.

“What happened?” He demanded, lowering his sword a little.

That was what Uri had been waiting for.

When Kanda’s sword came down the man rolled against him with a tremendous amount of force, too much for a wounded, dying, bleeding man to summon at once. It was the kind of strength that could manipulate an eight inch thick piece of metal without strain. Kanda cursed mentally, threw himself away from the man, turned the blade down, aiming between the man’s ribs on the left side, just where his heart would be.

But Uri was faster. His aim was precise. With blinding speed his hand came out and caught the hand that held Muegn, with a savage jerk he wrenched the Exorcist’s until he heard the bones snap and the fingers let the blade fall, spinning into the snow. With his left hand he reached across his chest and hit the man in the forehead with the heel of his hand, careful not to use the impossible strength that flowed through him.

Hm, He thought indifferently. I thought there were two…ah well; I guess I can just make this one tell me where the other is. And maybe have some fun while I’m at it. Uri sighed as he released his power.

Kanda did not have time to react. The suddenly there was nothing. There was no pain. There was no feeling. There was only light.
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“I honestly don’t understand it myself, but I’m fine now! Really!”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was so worried! How are things with you and Kanda?”

Allen blinked at the phone for a moment before he decided that he’d tell her. If he was going to tell anyone, it would be Lenalee. She knew everything about him – but for a few of the things that had happened while he was with Cross – so she was the logical person to tell. Kanda would tell Lavi, Allen would tell Lenalee and in the end, there would be secret except the one that everyone knew – which was the natural order of things.

“Great, actually.”

“What?!” Was there a note of sweet enthusiasm in her voice?

“Well… we’ve… kind of come to understand each other better. Come to… a sort of mutual agreement.” Yes, he would tell her, but he was not sure how to go about telling her. Would she understand? Would she even know it was possible? Would she shriek with psychotic glee?

“Eh? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re trying to say, Allen-kun.”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

She didn’t answer, so he swallowed hard and tried again.

“Have you ever read one of those shojo manga?”

“…Yeah…”

“And… you know how sometimes… there are two guys who… kind of… fall in love with… each other?”

“…Yeah!”

“Well… uh… that’s like… me and Kanda. Only we haven’t—”

She would shriek with psychotic glee.

The shriek was so loud he had to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid losing his hearing. It went on longer than he thought it would too, being Lenalee was usually a well rounded, thoughtful, individual. She was not one to be over excited about something as trivial as this. Not that it was trivial.

“I’m so happy for you Allen-kun!” She chimed when she had stopped.

“But, could you… maybe not tell anyone? I’m not sure how Kanda will feel if word gets out.”

He knew she was nodding with her fingers crossed. “I swear I won’t tell a soul!”

Allen sighed. “Good. Now I have to go find him. Thanks for being such a wonderful friend, Lenalee!”

“All in a days work, Allen-kun.”
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Allen found nothing but empty footprints and a puddle of blood when wandered passed the front of the train. He followed what had to be Kanda’s boot prints, but after a while there was hardly anything, a dent in the snow here, a black hair there, but not much. Worry seared into his heart like a knife, twisting with every step he took. He expected the older boy to just pop out of a shadow, unharmed, Innocence in hand, to berate him for being so slow.

But he didn’t.

The lonely wind whipped his hair loosely about his face, burning cold fire against his cheeks, hollowing his heart and worrying his mind. Where would he go? It wasn’t as if Kanda was one to wander off and get lost, that was Allen’s forte. It was more likely for Hell to turn into a frozen wasteland than it was for his dear friend to go off into the wilderness to meet with disorientation and eventual doom.

And still the cold wind tore at his heart, pulled the tears from his eyes.

Why am I crying? He thought in frustration. Am I… that worried? He scanned the empty landscape desperately in answer to his own question. His eyes stopped to examine every lingering shadow, every nook, and then he saw it.

There, lying on its side under the branches of a withered old tree was Kanda’s sword.
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His limbs hurt. More than anything else, that was what he noticed.

The shaded light of the sun coaxed his eyes open slowly, and his head throbbed when they took in the silver illumination that reflected from the white stones wall in front of him, yellow from the wooden floor beneath his feet.

It was a house unlike any he had ever seen before. Roofless, with only one room, both the front and back walls more or less destroyed. But what made it strange was that it still had furniture; a desk and chair next to a fireplace, a sofa placed so that one could see out the one remaining window if they wanted to. And at the desk, a gray skinned Noah sat, his booted feet propped on his desk, a notepad in his hand, a pen in his hand left hand dancing across the paper in sweeps and lines.

Kanda shifted his wait experimentally and found that he was slouching in a plush chair, ropes across his arms and chest holding him down. It was illogical – why wasn’t he dead yet? If this Noah had been the man in the snow and he had outwitted him, why hadn’t he done what he was supposed to do as a Noah.

“Ah, and like a crisp ocean wave on the shores of a white sand beach, so do his eyes contrast with his fair ivory skin.” The man at the table smiled lopsidedly, folded his notebook closed and placed it gently on the table. He didn’t look like he had the power to break Kanda’s arm, but Kanda could remember that he had. “You’re not too uncomfortable, are you?”

“Che. Why would you ask that question?”

The Noah came around the side of his desk so he could lean against it, almost casually. “I’m not as much of an enemy as you think I am, Kanda-san.”

Kanda blinked at him. He hadn’t told this man his name, so how had he known. The Noah smiled.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. Just a touch is all takes for me to learn such forward knowledge.” He folded his arms against his chest, sighing. “Like your name, age, Innocence type, favorite color – all of those little things that float around in the front of your mind. Mine is not the greatest gift, but it does have its uses,” He took two steps forward, which caused his captive to tense. Kanda had not know until that moment why his limbs hurt, but his bunching muscles told him; his right arm was broken, his left wrist badly sprained, both of his legs felt shattered as well.

So really, the ropes were pointless.

“Che, what could be so dangerous about stealing a name?” Kanda asked aloud. “I am not frightened by you knowing mine.”

Uri laughed. “It is not the stealing that is dangerous, Kanda-san. It is the thinking.” He grinned that lipless smile that he never allowed himself to use, the one that twisted his face darkly. “Because your thoughts are mine.” Uri placed the tips of his fingers on the Exorcist’s forehead even as the man tried to lean away. Part of him loved doing this, but another part of him hated it equally much. “Now tell me, Kanda-san, who is with you.”

He did not want to think of Allen. He did not want to imagine the things they had done together. And yet he did, because the Noah had asked him who was with him, he did. His mind conjured the image of the white haired boy easily, drawing it into focus, filling in the details until he could almost see it before his opened eyes – eyes that were trying to focus on the man stealing his thoughts.

“Hm, and why are you here?”

Just the question was enough to make him remember and hold the thought in his mind for an instant; the memory of being told where the Innocence was, leaving – receiving the poem. The morning Sable had told him to kill Allen…

The man pulled away suddenly, his face blank, still extended hand shaking. Uri had not wanted someone who knew his sister. After a moment he regained his composure and smiled at the Japanese man. It seemed to him that the two did not know each other well, so doing his job would not be that difficult if he tried not think of it. This was his job. This was his purpose. This was his way of proving that he was not like Sable. He reached out again, careful not to show the man how he closed his eyes to hide his dread.

He did all he could to harden his voice when he spoke.

“Now tell me, Kanda-san,” There was a thin layer of malice in the man’s voice that made Kanda desperate. How was he supposed to fight human nature and not think the answer to his suggestions? How was he going to get out here with broken legs, Mugen missing, and ropes holding him to a chair? “What is your greatest fear?”
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