The Fine Line

Disclaimer of Dread: I don’t own D.Gray-man. If I did…Lenalee would wear pants, damn it.

Something Awful

Komui had been sleeping on his desk when Lenalee’s scream ripped him from a rather exciting dream. The substance was lost the moment his eyes found his sister standing in the middle of his office, feigning disaster, clipboard in hand.

“Sorry Nii-san, you’re a really heavy sleeper.” She smiled sweetly.

He harrumphed at her before setting his glasses at the right angle on his face and rearranging his hat, trying to look casual. “Ehem. Was there something you needed?”

She grinned. “Sable’s brother, the one from Sweden, happened to be housing Kanda and Allen when she called. Allen’s hurt and Kanda’s staying with him until he’s better. Sable and Lavi want to go get the Innocence that’s still there and help get Allen back safely.”

Komui stared at her for a long moment while he thought about her words, slowly allowing them to sink in. Sable’s brother was housing Exorcists? Allen was hurt? Kanda, the Kanda, was staying with him until he recovered? Sable, the laziest Exorcist alive, was volunteering to go somewhere? Lenalee wasn’t demanding to go find out about Allen herself? He saw layers upon layers of possible plotting, but he wasn’t one to argue about it.

He nodded.

“Thanks, Nii-san!” Lenalee smiled at him.

“Lenalee,” He called her back when she turned for the door.

“Hm?” She gave the little smile that she always had when she was younger, the one that warned of mischief.

Komui pushed himself back in his chair and glanced at the clock, 11:30 PM. It was well beyond normal office hours.

“I don’t know what’s going on here with you and Sable, but I would like to know one thing.”

Lenalee was not one to fake ignorance when her brother was talking in that serious tone. “Alright. What?”

His eyes took on the glossiness of tears and his bottom lip quivered suddenly. “It doesn’t have to do with marrying off my darling nee-chan does it?!?!” In a matter of milliseconds his arms were draped around her, his sobs shaking her as he cried into her hair.

Her head fell forward so that her bangs cast her eyes in shadow. “No.”
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Allen opened his eyes slowly, frigid morning air disturbing him more than the dull ache in his torso. But what was that ache from again? Oh yes, Mugen. And whose muscled arm was it draped across him, protecting him from the morning chill?

Kanda’s.

Memories came rushing back to him in a wave, memories and thoughts and actions that he had nearly forgotten in his wounded state. With agonizing slowness his eyes followed the pale limb that hung over him, followed it to a strong shoulder, to a lithe neck, and to the smooth, calm face of Kanda Yuu. His deep eyes were closed gently, his lips gently parted, a swath of ebony hair lay gently over his chest, which was fully exposed to the dim light. He might have been some great artists painting come to life.

Allen just could not stop staring.

Look away! Look. Away.
But I don’t want to.

He recalled how Kanda had grinned the day before. How he had insisted that they share the bed for body heat. The words of his letter echoed over and over in Allen’s mind, repeated in his own mental version of Kanda’s voice: ‘I care for you. I trust you. I want to spend time with you. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around you and keep you safe.’ Those things – the things that Kanda wanted – almost seemed alright with Allen as well.

Those beautiful eyes opened.

“Good morning,” Allen attempted to pretend that he had just woken up and glanced over at Kanda. It was a lie. A horrible lie. He had to have been staring for a good three minutes before he even started thinking about the letter.

“Che, hardly.” Kanda glared. He pulled the fallen blankets over his chest and arm, thus covering Allen to his chin as well.

Allen frowned. “What? You aren’t getting up yet?” Kanda’s hand came forward and took hold of the coat that still rested on Allen’s chest and began to tug on it.

“I am, but this is coming with me. Too cold to just get up,” He kept pulling, gently, until his clothing had snaked away from Allen – who looked sad. Kanda gave him the look that he always did when he was thinking of him as an idiot.

When Kanda had retrieved his garment and scampered off of the mattress he donned it, watching Allen watch him from the corner of his eye. The younger Exorcist was becoming more and more obvious by the day with those eyes of his, Kanda only wished he knew what exactly he was looking at. It was beyond hope to him that the stupid Moyashi might actually have noticed his warmth, seeing through his mask. But what mask? Hadn’t Kanda already talked himself into believing that he just didn’t want to see another Exorcist die?

A low rumbling sound shook the room suddenly, sending Kanda into high alert.

Allen laughed lightly, dragging Kanda’s eyes back to him. “I’m hungry,” He informed with a blush.

“You’re hungry a lot for being such a damn moyashi, Moyashi.”

“My name is Allen. All-en Walk-er. Really not that hard to say it if you try.”

“Che. You’re too late now, you’re just Moyashi.”

“Too late?”

“You didn’t correct me soon enough.”

“Well, if you keep calling me that I’ll start call you something awful. Like…Lemminkäinen.”

“What the hell do lemons and canes have to do with me? Or with each other?”

“No, Lemminkäinen…. Never mind.”

Kanda sighed at him, looking annoyed. “You seem far too healthy this morning.” He frowned on top of his usual scowl as he threw another log on the nearly dead fire. The storm outside did not look like it had weakened in the least, nor did the air feel even a fraction warmer than it had the night before. “How does it feel?”

The younger Exorcist’s brow furrowed in thought. “It hurts a little,” He pulled his arms out from under the covers and waved them enthusiastically. “But I can move again!” He smiled one of those ridiculously warm smiles that made his eyes into slits, made his cheeks glow.

But Kanda was frowning at him. Seriously glowering at his happiness. With no warning at all the swordsman took hold of the covers and threw them back, exposing Allen’s bandaged chest to him. Allen did not stop him when he took hold of his wounds dressing and ripped it aside forcefully. He did however, grab the hand that made to touch his flesh.

He did not need to ask in order to know what was wrong. What had been a grievous gash the previous day was not more than a line of growing scab, the skin had knit itself together perfectly, there was nothing left that would not be gone in a few more days of normal resting. It might not even leave a scar. Kanda and Allen just looked at it, the first afraid, the other perplexed. How could someone who had no special gifts at mending miraculously make that sort of recovery?

There was only one possible answer that Kanda could see, and the repercussions were impossible for him to comprehend.

His face became pale as emotions ran rampant across his normally controlled visage. Fear, anger, sadness, confusion – they were all there in little bits and pieces, fighting for dominance.

How could this…how could I…when did I…
But I don’t. Never have never will.
Never. Never. Never. Never.
Zenzen.
Yet…
But… if I do… is this the delay…before…before…?

“Kanda?” Allen was filled with fear when his fellow Exorcist collapsed onto the floor, his right hand clutched over his heart. His loose hair came forward to cover his face like a shroud, sticking to sweat on his forehead; his eyes were wide with shock. What was happening to him? Kanda had always been the strong, quiet, amazingly pain tolerant Exorcist, he didn’t just fall down out of the blue like Miranda. “What’s wrong? Kanda!”

He had his back against the wall. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. Yuu, it does not hurt this much. You do not care that much. If you did, this would have happened when you were awake, not while you were asleep. Even as he thought to words the mark above his heart gave a spasm, provoking a groan from his throat. But it’s never been this bad before…

“Kanda, tell me what’s wrong.” There were hands on his shoulders, hands that should have stayed in the warm bed to get better.

“No.”

“Kanda, I can’t help unless you tell me.”

“Che, it just happens sometimes.”

“What is it?”

Kanda smirked at him through the veil of his hair. “You’re the last person who should ask that question.”

Kanda was not going to tell him. How would that make him look if he told the truth? I’m cursed like you are, that whole ‘I don’t touch cursed people thing’ was a big lie to make you leave me alone. Oh, and my curse just healed your wounds at the cost of me feeling them. Yeah, not supposed to happen. Not supposed to happen unless… I…I…
Which I do not!

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Che, nothing Moyashi,” He pushed Allen’s hands away and stood, leaning heavily on the wall for support. Allen looked up at him from his place on the floor, worry creasing his eyes.

“Kanda, please, if there’s anything I can do—”

“There’s not, Moyashi.” Kanda snapped. There was, but he was not going to say it. The curse over his heart allowed him to heal quickly, made him immune to the virus that akuma carried, and he could cure another’s wounds the same as it usually cured his, but that last gift had some very detailed requirements. The first of which was that he had to care. Which he did, though he was trying to talk himself out of it. Secondly he had to like the person. Which he so did not. And lastly, and perhaps most horribly, he had to be willing to endure what the other person was going through. Which was ridiculous, being he found pleasure in that damned Moyashi’s suffering like he found pleasure in… in… something pleasurable.

And, assuming that he really did feel that way for Allen, Allen could give him the one way to escape the pain. He would feel nothing if the person was willing to endure the pain for him, and met all of the other requirements. Which he was sure Allen would not. What reason would he have to? It wasn’t as if Kanda had ever given him reason to do anything but dislike him mightily.

“Leave me alone.” He insisted. You don’t need to know.

The silver eyes that blinked up at him shone like stars, the hands that took hold of his were as gentle as a breath of wind against his skin.

The pain stopped.

“Tell me, Kanda.”

The hand in Allen’s shook slightly, the dark eyes that stared down at him were so intense he almost felt as if they were looking through him. He had never noticed before, but Kanda really did have something about him that needed protecting, maybe even more so than Allen did. The only difference was that he needed to be defended from himself. And Allen wanted nothing more than to do that for him. He wanted to stop whatever it was that was causing him pain, take it on himself if need be. He cared, and he was glad to. He liked Kanda, and he would have gleefully admitted it. He freely offered whatever he could give to make Kanda content.

Kanda did not move when Allen stood up and leaned into him, pressing him into the wall. He was more frightened than he had ever been in his life, terrified that this young man who he cared for would let him go – yet equally afraid that he would hold on. He did not know what to do when Allen’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him down into an embrace.

“You can tell me anything Kanda,” He said softly into his ear. “Anything.”

Slowly the Japanese man’s shoulder relaxed. What would Allen do if he told him? What would he do if he told him? The Moyashi had written that poem, after all, and taken away the pain with nothing but a touch. And blushed at him. And so many other things. Didn’t any of that mean he could say something?

“It’s nothing, Moyashi.” He stood up straighter, pushing the shorter Exorcist away gently. “Nothing important.”
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Sable’s head rested on the side of the railing, enjoying the feeling of the cool air and wood on her searing face. She’d thrown up four times and they’d only been on the boat for that many hours. She vaguely wondered if she were going for a world record.

“I can ask the cook if he has any ginger if you want, Sable-chan. It’s supposed to help sea sickness.”

“Hate. Ginger.”

“But it will make you feel better, Sable-chan!”

“Don’t. Care.”

“You’re going to die if you don’t stop soon.” Lavi leaned over slightly so that he could look into her green face. He’d been bugging her like this since she’d started, not once leaving her in peace so she could have a conversation with her insides. She almost wanted to kick him. “Wouldn’t that be a horrible way for a parasitic type to go? Starved to death because she couldn’t take a little ginger? I can just imagine. If you want, I can explain the details to you – I’ve read about starvation – though I doubt they’d help with your problem.”

She just groaned.

“Just have some ginger. And then, when you feel better, we can have the cook prepare you a special feast of all your favorite—”

She retched again, spilling yet more half digested food into the sea. “Talking. Food. Bad.” She stated flatly, her voice hoarse. Why hadn’t she let Lenalee come? Oh yes, Lloyd was her brother and she had wanted to see him. Yeah, like she really wanted to if it meant a week of stomach trouble and vomit.

Lavi nodded as if understanding. “I’ll go get the ginger.”

“T-anks.” She tried to grimace at him before having to lean over the side once again. The cool air would have felt wonderful if not for the leaning.

Not too far away, unseen and unfelt, a pair of dazzling green eyes watched Lavi go from the shadows beneath the sail, studied the young blonde woman as she gagged yet again. Gradually, a lipless smile spread across the face that held those sparkling eyes, distorting its human-like features into something crueler.

At last, The watcher thought, running a hand through its hair. A family reunion.
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