#the latter two show up and i use allen as a neutral pov but i'm afraid they don't play a big role

[daisyachain]

This is completely unedited and moderately incoherent, but here we are! DGM rarepair week, day 2

Black | Mysterious | Sophisticated | Powerful | Emptiness | Void | Darkness

Fandom: D.Gray-Man Rating: T-ish for violence, gore, nonexistent plot and Kanda being emotionally insensitive Pairings: Edit: I left it unclear to fit the mysterious prompt but it’s Kanda/Daisya

Total Words: 3.7k

Allen, Johnny, and Kanda are on the world’s worst roadtrip chasing after the Noah and some answers in a timeline parallel to this latest arc, when they run into a rather unwelcome guest. This is somewhat of a rehash of what happened with Alma, but it serves to highlight just how similar the two characters are, and it was mostly a 'what if' scenario.

A church bell faintly rolled the hour, though it didn’t feel like they’d been out for so long.

Johnny had insisted they stop for dinner, saying he wasn’t going to be dealing with both Allen and Kanda on an empty stomach. They all knew it was bullshit, and that he just wanted to them to take care of themselves, so no one complained.

The food in the town’s inn had been the usual, solid stuff, nothing to write home about, but something that would get you through a good couple of hours of chasing down the ultimate source of evil in the world and hoping they didn’t find you first. Then, they’d hit the road again, and coming up on…was it two hours later? Three? Allen had been sure it was closer to two, but it was too dark to check the watch by torchlight, but they’d set out just past the hour. The bell was slow, but Allen decided to count.

One.

It was a sleepy part of the country, even here, and they walked down a broad dusty avenue through the centre, to the central square. It was starting to get cold, and even the light from one or two streetlamps was sucked into the black night, which showed no sign of stars.

Two.

Allen and Johnny fell back behind Kanda, who was quiet for once. No snapping at them to hurry up, or slow down, or stop damn well talking amongst themselves.

Three.

“We’ve made some good time,” said Johnny beside him. “See? It was good that we stopped. Otherwise we’d just be miserable and hungry, now.”

Four.

“You’re right, Johnny.��� Allen smiled at him in reassurance, to make sure he didn’t worry. He knew that he was nervous about him, how quiet he was now.

Five.

“Awful quiet, though, for a town this big.”

“Hmm.”

Six.

Allen’s eyes narrowed, doing a quick check-over of the shops and houses on either side. No akuma in sight. There were lights on, and some moving shadows, the roar of voices and the chink of plates from inside, but…

Seven.

“Speaking of which, it looks like we’re the only ones out travelling tonight.”

“I guess everyone else already got in.”

“Yeah.”

Eight.

In front of them, Kanda had been slowing down his pace, and now he fell into step beside Allen.

“Can you activate your Innocence without showing it?” he murmured, far to calm to be the usual Kanda.

“Of course,” Allen whispered in retort. “What’s going on?”

Nine. That should have been the last bell, unless he’d completely messed up with the counting.

“Just take care of Johnny if shit goes down, and find somewhere to hide.”

“Hey, I can fight—”

The last chime didn’t go away. It held, and Allen could swear it started to resonate. And grow louder.

“Shut up!” hissed Kanda, suddenly furious.

“What do you mean? What’s going on?”

And louder, with a tone that set Allen’s teeth on edge.

“Just do what I tell you, and do it now!”

The world shattered in Allen’s ears as he and Johnny went flying from Kanda’s shove.

“Ugh—”

Allen jumped to his feet, Innocence at the ready, then paused. Kanda had pushed them — thrown them — into a wooden shop door, and now Allen could see why: the street’s windows had exploded in a storm of broken glass. The light was dim here, but every last bit of it glittered off the shrapnel that covered the streets, and…

“Kanda! You all right?”

“Get inside!”

He’d been clever enough to shield himself with his coat, but cuts still covered Kanda’s face.

“What about you?” Johnny shouted out from beside him, more winded than he was.

But Allen had already grabbed him by the collar and kicked open the door, loose from the first time they’d slammed into it.

“He’ll be fine,” he said, letting go and shutting the door behind them, searching for a bolt. “I don’t know how, but he knows what’s going on.”

The building hadn’t been used in a few days at least, but it looked to be a shop — Allen took a quick look to make sure the merchandise wasn’t breakable, then swept it on to the floor and dragged a few tables closer to the door. Then, leaving just enough room to sneak out, he dashed back to the window to have a look outside.

“Allen? What’s — do you have any idea what’s going on?” Jonny was shaking just a bit, and he couldn’t blame him. What had Kanda known?

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know anything more than you,” he said, craning his neck a bit. Damn — Kanda was looking away, but whatever he was staring at was firmly out of view.

“What’s our plan, then? I can make a pretty good barricade if you give me a few minutes.”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

What had Kanda meant with all that mysterious stuff? Protect Johnny had seemed to be the gist of it. Allen glanced over — the guy seemed to be on it already, checking over the tables for where the joints were.

“Got it. I’ll get to work—”

“Wait — I’ll go outside and guard the door, and you can cover up the windows from the inside.”

Whether it was an akuma, Innocence, or God forbid a Noah, it was able to do some damage with the shattered glass.

“And you’re sure you’ll be fine?”

“Of course! Kanda hates losing, so he’d never let anything happen.” Allen gave what he hoped was a cheery wink, and stepped outside.

“Good luck!”

The door shut quietly behind him, and he looked out on to the glass-strewn street. Each of the half-timber houses seemed to loom crookedly over the scene, gables seeming far away in the darkness. Overhead, clouds gathered to form the grey-tinged blackness that had settled on them like treacle, thick and numbing. The glass panes of the lamps had shattered, leaving wrought-iron thorns sticking up into the night.

“Come on!” A playful voice rang out, sounding just slightly to metallic for a young man. “You know it’s me, so just say my name.”

Allen’s eyes focused on the situation in front of him, each taking in a different set of information. Oh, shit.

His right saw Kanda standing stock still, sword drawn but by his side, everything else blending into a tall and coal-black figure, just outlined against the slate sky.

The left saw his opponent more clearly, perched up on one of the rooftops like some sort of cat, hanging over the side — a level 3, with the kind of concentrated agony that reached back into Allen’s mind and gave him a toothache last year, and two weeks into the future. Just pure, concentrated pain, and a very loud laugh to drown it out.

“You’re dead.” Kanda’s voice hung low, grinding along like metal on a whetting stone.

“Nope!” The akuma seemed to be amused by this, bouncing up and down, and then unfolding its limbs for a hop down to the ground, flipping up and over as it did.

“I mean,” said Kanda, quieter now, “You’re going to die.”

Even Allen felt the words slide down his throat like ice. There was no heat in Kanda’s anger, if it could be called anger.

The akuma’s spiked teeth just pulled back into a smile.

Like most level 3s it was something of man, something of machine, but this one was also a bit more animal. Two long and sturdy legs, striped vertically around the knees stuck out from a shroud that covered the torso and the arms, and most of the face as well. There was a spring in its movement and a laughter in its — not its voice, but the sound that came from it.

Its hood obscured everything but the mouth running gash-like across its face.

And now, with the body glowing slightly, Allen could see a large red splotch on its cloak, just on the left side of its chest.

“You would never kill me—”

Mugen stabbed into the space where its chest had been, and swept a path under where its legs had stood.

But in that sliver of a second it had let itself fall backwards and roll, springing out of it as if this was all going to plan. What did it mean, Kanda would never kill it? What the hell was it?

“—and it won’t be for lack of tryin’.”

“Shut up.”

Kanda swung the sword again, sending out a wave of pests, but the level 3 was getting bored.

“You should know me better than that, Kanda! Besides, aren’t you wondering why I’m here? I should have been burned and buried!”

It dodged the attack and then held its hands about stomach height, balled together, then drew them apart — this was it! There was the noise of a bell, getting louder and louder—

There was an explosion, and the house the level 3 had perched on collapsed in on itself, forming a new pile of rubble.

“Wanna dance? If you just say you remember who I am,” it continued, cajoling now, “I’ll tell you who it was, you know, that called me back.”

Kanda just strode slowly towards it as it twirled, and extended an arm theatrically out of its cloak. Maybe it had been an actor, when its soul had belonged to a human, or a some other type of entertainer.

“Die.”

Another spirit attack, far too slow to catch the akuma. It seemed to have forgotten that it was here to hunt Allen, for the moment. He probably should have been relieved.

BOOM

Another thundering noise, scattered here and there with the bright sparks of shattering glass, sounded as the akuma collapsed a building on to where Kanda had been standing.

“Just say my name,” the thing said, and each word rang out louder, backed by the chime of a bell. “Do it. Do it!”

It flitted around Kanda, throwing up clouds of debris with its abilities, and working up a cloud — yes, Allen realized, it was trying to cut him off.

He was about to reconsider, and run in to help, when suddenly the noise stopped. Not just the sound of the bell, but the scuffling on feet on the ground, and the muffled sounds of heavy breathing.

“Shut. Up.”

Kanda had unleashed a barrage of black ghosts, seething in a circle around him to eat away the dust.

“You were nothing to me then.”

He stared blankly at the thing that had stopped to listen, frozen in its place.

“And you are nothing now.”

Mugen’s blade withdrew, and reformed, levelled at the akuma’s throat.

Over the course of seconds, his spirits disappeared, fading back into darkness. Somehow, Allen felt as if he were watching a play, some scripted performance play out. Both the fighters made sure to have time to throw insults back and forth, and stand still in the newfound silence of the night.

Yes, it was silent. But just a moment later, Allen heard it break — clumsily. Nothing dramatic about it.

There was just the soft, then louder, shameful and strangled sound of crying.

It carried on, quiet sobbing at first, then a wail, and then just seconds later it crescendoed into a scream — into two words, ripped out from the akuma’s lungs.

“I know!”

It took a blind leap at Kanda, swinging a fist instead of shooting bullets or creating its explosions.

“It was my little sister!” It shouted.

Allen placed the words in his mind alongside the others that this thing had spoken, trying to piece together what it wanted. Was it like Eliade, whose shattered memories changed and rearranged themselves?

Kanda, meanwhile, had caught its blow easily, and redirected it into a throw — and yet, this akuma must have had some training in its life. It twisted and managed to kick out at Kanda’s kneecap, sending them both tumbling. Was Kanda really humouring it that much?

“You bastards tried to hide it from her, didn’t you? But she’s so much fucking smarter than you! Takes after her brother, don'tcha think?The fight wore on, each of the akuma’s blows meeting perfect blocks, but now it honestly fought. The moment Kanda was close to something — aaaugh! Chunks of wood and plaster, stone and brick ripped out from the structures on that side.

"And I looked for you. I found you. I followed you all, through everything, I stayed with you, when I was still level 1. And you know what?”

A swift hip throw slammed it down on a wood spar that shoved through its chest with a sickening sound. Still, it managed to escape the chokehold, pulling out the spar, and held it up like a club.

“You didn’t miss me!” it yelled, punctuating each phrase with a swing. “You didn’t even remember me! I waited so fucking long, just to hear you say something, but…”

Its voice faded suddenly, snuffed out by a burst of effort. Finally it got past Kanda’s oddly loose defenses, scoring a blow that landed with a hollow noise on the back of his skull.

“…you never even said my name.”

Without the sound of battle to cloud it, Allen heard again the scratched voice of a boy about to cry.

A boy that now collapsed over Kanda, pinning him down…shit. Kanda was beaten. Now it was his job to get that obnoxious bastard out of this mess.

Was he really that tired? Was it a Noah? Or, to Allen’s sneaking suspicion was he just playing along?

He took a couple of deep breaths, and tensed his muscles, ready for the fight. It would be over quickly, even with that explosion ability.

“Innocence—”

“Stay the fuck out of this, Walker!”

Kanda yelled — screamed — him down before he’d even pulled out a Crown Clown, but Allen just had to trust him. After that business with Alma, he should have learned his lesson.

“Just hurry up, all right?” he yelled back into the street.

Kanda still lay there, at the akuma’s mercy, the spar hovering over where his throat must have been.

“Grab Johnny, and backtrack. I’ll end it.”

Allen let himself spend another moment in complete confusion, then nodded to himself.

He did not look back.

…

Kanda watched the two of them go. Allen was too much of a fucking goody-two-shoes to be trusted.

Besides, it wasn’t hard to keep the akuma at bay. No bullets, no ability, it was still trying to stick him through the throat with nothing more than brute strength. He had the edge. It had a hole in its chest.

For most of the fight, he hadn’t been able to see its face, between how fast they were moving and the hood’s shadow. He hadn’t wanted to see.

It was clear as fucking crystal that this wasn’t a fake.

But now, he couldn’t deny it any more. Not as human as Alma, no, but a level 3 that looked too real. The mechanical semblance of a face was twisted into an expression he recognized.

“Get off me.”

“Shut up,” it croaked.

Kanda wondered if those were somehow real tears, or just some clever mechanism.

It shouldn’t have mattered. This smartass akuma was still just as weak as any other. It didn’t have the skill to beat him, even without the sloppy blows and missed openings.

But…

“That’s my line, dumbass.”

“I said, shut up!”

The akuma punctuated the sentence with strikes that Kanda could have blocked. He’d heal up soon enough.

There was something boiling up in him that he had no name for. The feeling when old man Zhu told him the truth. When he saw Marie and Lena standing there, and knew that they understood him, and how much he had wanted to die, and knew he’d dragged himself back into a miserable life out of nothing but guilt.

Gently, just a bit at first, then more fully, Kanda smiled, and lifted a hand to the thing’s cheek, brushing aside what looked like tears.

“Daisya.”

It took little effort to then snap what might have been its neck and kick it off, then slam it into the ground to reverse their positions. The blood that trickled out of a cut on his cheek flowed, and took Mugen’s form.

Now Kanda knelt over that mechanical body, and pushed the hood fully away, exposing the face to what little light there was. The tattoos beneath its eyes were now holes in the metallic outer shell, and the bandages that stuck in Kanda’s memory were merely painted on. Hollow, a shell full of meaning but empty inside. But the scars and mottled, uneven skin were the same as ever, and the one rusted earring left over from an impulsive act at age 7 and a stubborn need to be cool that had stayed into their teens.

The careless collection of features was still set in an expression Kanda had rarely seen up close before, unlike the grin his mind painted over this face. It looked disgusting.

“After all that talking, I thought you’d have something to say now.”

The akuma finally snapped out of it, and rolled its eyes at him.

“You could at least let me get my head on straight, first.”

It reached its arms up to about ear level when Kanda released them, and set it in place, broken bones — no, components — healing with a crackling noise.

“That’s disgusting.”

One of the cold hands reached up to brush the bangs out of his eyes, but he didn’t flinch.

“Your face is disgusting.”

“So your sister called you back. Did you kill her?”

“Nope. Didn’t have much use for a body. She’s a good kid, you know. Oh, wait, of course you do. You’re the one who told her I fucking kicked it, ‘cos you guys didn’t care enough to come get me. You heard it, didn’t you? I had my golem on during all of it, so you shoulda had a good bunch of screaming in your ear. Must’ve been fun for Marie! He mentioned me, you know. He remembered.”

Kanda kept Mugen hovering over the akuma’s throat, steady at about an inch away. His expression was flat.

“I heard you, and the Noah.”

“That fuckin’ hat-wearing bastard. I’d thank you for kicking his ass like a dutiful teammate, but you only did that when Lena got involved. Hah! Don’t think I heard anything from her, either, but she’s always hung up on one thing or another, so I’m just going to say that she still remembers me. You can trust her, like that.”

The thing grinned up at him. “So, you gonna kill me now? Or poke another hole in me?”

“You haven’t even gotten to the point, yet.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

If this conversation had been when they were thirteen, and gangly, and sharing tiny straw mattresses between the two of them and whoever else was on the mission, it would have been funny.

Now, it just gave Kanda the cold comfort of knowing that whatever else, this thing did have Daisya’s memories.

“Spit it out.”

“Okay, okay.” The akuma sighed. “We were kind of family, at the Order, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Seven years, we were together. But, did you ever love me?”

Seven years of night trains and cover identities, tattered uniforms and stolen hair ties, ripping up the sheets to bandage wounds and carrying Daisya in the rain, for three days because the akuma were circling and his leg was broken and badly healed with Kanda’s blood.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You didn’t cry, didn’t mourn, I don’t think you noticed it. Marie did, but you never even said my name.”

Travelling for days on end, stopping only for akuma and the occasional hour of sleep, staring at a girl in a tourist town with sharp eyes and messy brown hair, buying a trinket and leaving the next day. Tracking Cross’ inscrutable movements through snow and wind with barely a word passed between them. No quarter in battle against Tyki, or against Bolic.

“Maybe.”

It started crying again, but with a smile on its face.

“It hurts, you know. I remember pretty damn clearly, I still thought you’d save me. I still thought you’d at least, I don’t know, try.”

Age fourteen, tearing a slit down his wrist, letting the blood drip on to a broken body hoping that it would be enough to heal whatever this was. Age eighteen, boots skidding on the cobblestones as they ran, seeing the body just as light dawned. Take care of him. It was a dead body, but the words had still needed to be said. Protect him, where I failed.

“…”

There had been some kind of response lined up, but the words choked out in his throat.

Age sixteen, in the snow, grinning at a dumb joke and holding hands, waiting for the train.

He shifted position, coming to kneel beside the akuma, and not over it, smiling despite himself.

“Kanda?”

Not again. He sat the akuma’s battered body up, wrapping an arm around its shoulders, and leaned back, against a pile of rubble.

No one would ever see him in the darkness. No one would ever hear him in the void. They was fifteen again, stupid and still somehow naive enough to give a damn.

“I’ll save you this time, Daisya.”

“So, does this mean…”

“I did.”

…

Kanda didn’t show up until the next day. Johnny asked about it, worried, but Allen knew better.

That night belonged to Kanda.