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If there’s one thing he wishes that stupid Allen Walker would grow out of, it would be this. This stupid martyr complex, the idea that he can save everyone else if he takes on the world by himself, that he can shoulder the literal fate of humanity so that no one else has to.
It’s ridiculous. He’s no goddamn hero. He’s just a boy.
And of course Kanda can see it, because it’s been worn on the idiot’s sleeve for well over a year, brandished like a shield.
The carriage rocks as a wheel bounces off debris on the road, and it’s as if Walker doesn’t even notice. He’s off in fucking la-la land, probably deadening himself just to prevent his sorrow over Tim from showing on his face, and underneath that trying to figure out how to run again without two generals grabbing the tails of his coat and physically dragging him back.
General. Ugh, he’d rather not remember. He made that decision for Walker, and now the ungrateful ass is plotting his next escape. Typical. He whines time and time again about how he fights for his friends and for Akuma and for the good of the world, and yet he never actually stops to consider anyone else’s feelings. Or…obligations. Kanda’s here out of obligation. He’s the reason Walker’s in the predicament he is now, the reason this small, fragile thing is curled up in the corner, glassy-eyed.
The Fourteenth is one scary bitch, but he figures it’s even scarier for Walker. He knows what it’s like to feel possessed by memories, to be overwhelmed with a consciousness not your own. He’s had to remind himself time and time again that he isn’t that dead exorcist in a field of lotus blossoms, reaching up for salvation. But Walker? He’s fighting a battle and clearly losing, and this is the closest thing to guilt Kanda has felt for anyone but Alma in a long time. Possibly ever.
He swallows, looking down at the wood grain below him, eyes tracing it and remembering the cracks in Alma’s body giving way to dust that floated with the wind. He sees the crumbling ruins of Mater, the way that ominous, gray sky looked as he felt a life slip away in his arms.
Allen gave him a closure he hadn’t realized he could find, one that lifted a weight off his shoulders, off his chest; one that enabled him to breathe, to release pain and fury on a shaky exhale. He found the woman his previous life had loved and the boy his current life had mourned all at once - with Alma he’d lost that ability to freely laugh, freely smile. Alma had taken it with him and held it tight for nine long years, and the last gift he gave to Kanda was to release it back to him.
This is another reason he feels obligated to Walker. He had given Kanda something he probably hadn’t deserved, and he done it with the most genuine smile Kanda had ever seen; it was as if he was grateful for the opportunity to liberate Kanda from his lifetime of loss, and at the time all Kanda could give in return was his own soft smile. Then Kanda realized that whatever little bit of life he had left he’d give to Allen - to saving him the way he’d saved Kanda.
He grips at his coat, grimacing. How is he supposed to help this idiot if he won’t accept it? He’s just fucking…leaned against the wall of the cart, still staring into space, and he’s been quiet for so long Kanda’s concerned the Fourteenth has returned.
Outside, he can hear Johnny and Tiedoll talking, and he knows Allen can too.
“He doesn’t even cry,” Johnny whispers, sounding defeated. “He’s…calm. Like he’s just accepting it, just like that.”
Maybe that’s what they think, and Kanda can see where they’re coming from. Timcanpy was Allen’s last connection to Marion Cross, so feeling numb wouldn’t be unheard of. But that’s not what this is.
“I guess that’s what makes it all the more painful to watch…”
Painful? No, it’s irritating. Irritating because again Walker won’t ask for help. He just wallows, he just pulls everything in. He isn’t calm, he’s fucking distraught and hiding it by retreating into himself. It’s what he always does. Kanda bets that Allen couldn’t bear to cry simply because he thinks it would upset the rest of them.
Walker is just a human, no matter what lives inside of him. He’s just a boy. A delicate thing on the verge of topping over and shattering under the pressure he’s placed on his shoulders, and that just makes Kanda angrier. He wants to rile him up just to get him to show something. Anything. Just to show him it’s okay to feel and express himself.
And even though Walker is clearly mourning, Kanda can sense that he also thinks he’s saving them from something. Goddamn. He wants to just vault across the fucking cart and spit insults into Walker’s face until he drops this idiotic act. They’re all already in too deep. He doesn’t need to keep doing this.
As Johnny and Tiedoll continue, Kanda tries and fails to block them out. He can’t, especially when Tiedoll answers Johnny’s question as to why he’s helping them.
“Truth be told, I meant to turn you all in to the Order this way at first,” he starts, ambivalent, as if that’s reassuring. “But Marie and Lenalee are in on this, too, and Yu threatened to go through with this ‘no matter what.’ I know you probably think me silly, doting on him like that, don’t you?” Kanda’s eye twitches. Shut up, Old Man. “Yes, you’re right. I’m a doting fool. My adorable apprentice was pleading, how on earth could I say no?”
Kanda feels his cheeks flush in anger and something else that is certainly not embarrassment. Annoyed, he taps a finger against Mugen’s blade, pointedly looking away from Walker’s stupid, pretty face.
It’s obvious here that Walker is paying attention to them, at least, not so far withdrawn that he isn’t even listening. He knows because he sees the slight movement as Allen lowers his face to look at the floor beneath them. It draws Kanda’s gaze back to him, and he watches Walker bite his bottom lip, the first show of anything other than a blank mask, but then it disappears again.
“Back in there, in the North American branch…Walker did try truly taking a stand for Kanda and Alma’s sake, after all,” his general says, voice soft and genuine, and Allen’s silver eyes flit to Kanda for just the briefest second. Kanda feels his pulse pick up, gently throbbing in his throat.
Then, all at once…grief. Anger. As if Walker can no longer keep the dam up everything washes over him. It stuns Kanda, who watches Allen’s expression twist into something heart-wrenching.
There it is, that’s the pain he feels. He isn’t calm. He isn’t numb. His teeth are grit and his eyes are narrowed with barely concealed agony, and it causes Kanda’s breath to catch for just a second. Some instinct in him wants to reach out, but he ignores it. Walker never accepts comfort, anyway, and Kanda wouldn’t even know what to do to begin with. He’s the worst possible person someone could choose to find comfort in.
Allen hums a familiar melody.
Suddenly the cabin fills with a bright, ethereal light, and Kanda hears himself sharply inhale on a gasp. A gut reaction has him moving forward for a different reason, immediately knowing deep in his bones that this is Walker’s solution. He feels his eyes widen as his hand reaches out, desperate to pull Allen away, but that disastrous mess of a human just gracefully looks up, willingly - purposely - giving himself up into it.
The ark gate opens below him, the force of energy whipping Kanda’s bangs from his face as he bolts forward, not willing to let the light keep him from holding his eyes open. They hurt, they burn, but Kanda reaches, unwilling to leave Allen alone. Allen doesn’t want to be alone. He’s such a goddamn fool.
The look on that foolish boy’s face causes Kanda’s heart to break. “Sorry,” he says, genuine, with a disarming smile and sad eyes. He looks so gorgeous, angelic, engulfed in that holy light; Kanda feels like he can’t breathe. “Guess I really can’t tell you anythin’.” His voice is soft, so soft, so kind. It sounds like Allen, like he should sound, like it’s him and not his father. It leaves Kanda raw, like an incessant and unpleasant grip shoving back layers and layers of something he can’t name.
“Please just forget all about it,” Allen continues, as if Kanda could ever forget this. Could ever strike this beautifully tragic person from his mind. “I’ll retrieve the human-type innocence myself.”
The fuck you will! He wants to scream, furious at Allen for continuing on his suicide mission and at himself for feeling so upset about it. If this fucking bitch wants to die, Kanda should just let him! Fuck Allen Walker and his misguided ideals and his stupid fucking masks and his goddamn smiles; fuck his sad eyes and fealty to friendship and desolate, stunningly gorgeous existence.
Still, he reaches. “Don’t fucking mess with me, you idiot!” He screams, vaulting forward, angry and desperate and hurting. Walker can’t leave, he can’t . Even though Kanda knew this was coming, he still isn’t ready for him to go.
He feels his hand clasp around Allen’s leg, and then his world is nothing but a bright, white light.
The sensation of falling is always a hugely disorienting one. His stomach seems to rise into his throat as Mugen slips from his fingers, careening towards the ground, but he doesn’t let go of Allen.
Gravity finds them, though, as it tends to do, and his hold on Walker breaks. Along with what feels like every bone in his body.
“Ka-Kanda?!”
The beansprout looks appalled, as if Kanda hasn’t been his shadow for days on end now.
He clicks his tongue, angry. “Why is it always like this with you?!”
They’re a mess - he can feel his hair tie has fallen somewhere, who the fuck knows where, and Walker looks a satisfying mix of confusion and shock. He’s sprawled on the ground, hair a mess, eyes wide, legs spread - Kanda grinds his thoughts to a halt.
“Are you nuts or somethin-“
Walker’s words are immediately cut short from a searingly hot electric shock from his stupid fucking bracelet. Kanda feels his nerves stand on end, fried, and Allen doesn’t seem to be enjoying it any more than he is.
Fuck that hurts.
In an instant he’s up, though, unwilling to give Walker any other opportunities to escape. He reaches for Allen’s coat lapels and drags him forward. “You damn shithead,” he snarls, pulling Allen to him with ease. Walker must be too shocked to fight it. Even if he did, Kanda still would have gotten him - he’s so fuckin’ angry. “Look at what you’ve freakin’ done this time!”
God, yes, a broken, marred mask slips from Walker, giving way to anger. This Kanda understands, this is Allen Walker, a shitty brat who doesn’t get a goddamn thing. This is what he fucking lives for, has lived for, knowing he’s the one to rip Allen down to his base nature. In a way, it feels like a piece of the martyr he can claim as his. His blood boils beneath his skin, not unpleasantly, as silver eyes narrow at him.
“So damn persistent,” Allen snarls, a growl at the back of his throat, and Kanda’s blood heats further.
He ignores it, though, as his senses outside of this idiot come back to him. “Shit,” he whispers, eyelids lowering as he inhales the air around them. “The soil smells different here. Where did you send us?!”
Mugen is stabbed in the ground behind Allen, and Kanda’s fingers twitch with a desire to grab it as Walker rears back, slapping Kanda’s grip away. Kanda barely feels the sting of his slap, even though it was done with his tough as hell left arm, because he’s too focused on the livid expression on the usually genteel face. Kanda fucking adores this shit. Allen Walker is at his best like this. “How would I know?” He screams, stumbling backwards. “How could I possibly know?! There wasn’t a single thought in my head when I used it!”
Walker leans forward with his rage, screeching. “All I wanted was to get away from you guys!!”
Liar. Fucking liar. All he wants is comfort, even though he’ll never accept it. All he fucking wants is for all of this to be over so he can curl up in the warmth of victory, the knowledge that he can lift that weight off his shoulders. All he fucking wants is to not feel alone in the one-person war he’s created.
Kanda needs to drive Walker further. He needs his words to match his anger, he needs the truth. No more lies.
He draws Mugen from the ground, scaring the small group of children that had watched them fall from the sky and he had dutifully ignored. Walker’s eyes go wide, meeting Kanda’s unblinking, and a shudder runs through him. Kanda sees it start at the crown of his head and move down through to his fingers. Good. Maybe a well-placed threat will work.
He moves himself into a low position, centering his gravity, and reaches to unsheathe his weapon. “Enough with all this shit,” he whispers on an exhale as the children run away. Finally. Those kids would have just gotten in the way. His fingers twitch over Mugen’s hilt, ready to draw when he needs to.
“Try running away one more time and I’ll freaking kill you right here, right now.”
He knows he can’t possibly mean it. He’ll only take Walker’s life if there’s no Walker left. When the Fourteenth steals away the last of Allen’s breath and is just inhabiting that delicate shell, that’s when Kanda will end it.
Deep down, he hopes it doesn’t ever come to that.
Allen looks hurt, suddenly. His eyes shine like the full moon, wide and pained and confused. This is different from the anger, it hurts Kanda more, but it’s at least real.
“That’s what I came to do, after all.” I came to save you. “You’re in the right spot for a good slicing as well. Decide in the next five seconds if you want to end up in two nice halves or not.”
Walker’s voice is shaky when he replies. “…You keep saying you’ll help me…or you’ll kill me…”
Kanda looks at him evenly. “I’ll help you, but I never said I’ll do it with mercy.”
If he has to tear Walker apart to help him, he will. If it takes threats, or arguments, or fights, or anything else - Kanda will help him. He made that promise to the both of them. This boy needs help, he needs comrades, he needs someone to save him from himself since he seems insistent he’s the only one not worth saving.
“So you’re just gonna ignore my situation?! My feelings?!” Allen cries, furious. “You call that helping? More like cornering!”
Kanda has already drawn, his threat obvious but empty as Walker’s tie flutters to the ground.
He’s acting like he’ll accept any help if he isn’t backed into a corner. It drives Kanda fucking wild.
Allen goes from hurt to surprised in a moment, as soon as he’s realized what’s happened. He makes a soft noise of confusion as he works out why his tie is now laying on the ground, and then flinches. “Ugh…” he mumbles, obviously unhappy, obviously a little pissed again. It’s not like they have the money to replace a tie right now.
Kanda sheathes Mugen once more, not looking Allen in the eye as he holds it in front of his face. “Like you’re any different, you ass.”
This is Kanda’s very point. Such a goddamn hypocrite. Fucking child.
“Next time, it’ll be your neck.”
Walker looks like maybe he believes that threat.
“Johnny can no longer return to the Order,” Kanda growls, his voice low and angry. Walker visibly flinches at that, a sharp inhale of breath as his expression twists with guilt, but Kanda just remembers Johnny’s stupid exhuberance. His naive optimism. People are putting their lives on the line for him and he consistently conveniently forgets that. “If he’s ever caught, he’ll be behind bars for life. Reever knows and yet he sent Johnny on his way. D’you have any idea how that felt?”
Walker’s fists clench as he stares at the ground, teeth grit. Kanda decides it’s best to rub salt in this wound. He said he won’t show Walker mercy, and he means it. Even if he has to hurt him, this will help him.
“Johnny loves his science department like an idiot, so stupidly much. Even I know that. But still, he left to chase after you. Think you know how he feels?”
Kanda, too, has dedicated himself to chasing this selfish dumbass, but he doesn’t say that.
Allen’s eyes are trained on the ground, long white fringe covering most of his face. “…up…” he mumbles. “Shut up…”
Oh? Does this hurt? Does this force him to face his flaws and overcome them instead of shoving everything down so goddamn deep he can pretend they don’t exist? What an asshole.
“Now who’s the coward who won’t face it?!” Kanda snarls, once again ready to draw his sword. “I’ll throw everything you said to me at the North American branch back in your face!”
Fuck you, Allen Walker! Seriously, what a tragic piece of shit. How fucking dare he spit in the face of everyone that loves him? How fucking dare he do this to them? To Kanda. After everything, how could Walker do this to him ?
Mugen easily screeches out of its sheath and swipes across the air with reckless abandon, but Walker is flexible and has excellent reflexes; he dodges, leaning into a backwards vault, pressing his left hand against the ground and putting space between them in the span of a second.
Kanda’s sort of impressed. He knew Allen wouldn’t be hit, but he wasn’t expecting that.
He recovers easily enough, switching the momentum and swinging towards his other side. A cursed, black hand intercepts the motion, though, and Kanda thinks it was a good thing he wasn’t being too serious because it would have really fucking sucked if he had cut Walker’s goddamn innocence off.
But fuck he bet that hurts. He hadn’t meant to actually hurt him.
Worry radiates from him in waves, he can’t help it. Damn, how is he gonna kill this beansprout if he can’t even hurt him?
“You think I don’t know?” Walker spits out, averting Kanda’s eyes. “Like I even…!” He takes a deep breath. “Like I even need you out of all people to enlighten me. I know it all too well!”
The words sound like they’re ripped right out of him, guttural, painful. They sound like words he had to force out, words that make his throat raw and his skin prickle with irritation. Kanda is torn, now, but he achieved what he was looking to accomplish. Walker’s being honest.
Green innocence sparks from Walker’s left hand, fighting against Mugen. “You don’t know a damn thing,” Kanda retorts, but that’s obviously untrue. He just doesn’t know what to say.
“I know everything…But I can’t say it. Why can’t you just get it already! ”
Walker is utterly distraught, ravished with guilt and pain. Kanda can hear it in his rattling breaths, his voice going hoarse from screaming. He looks like despair, desperate and miserable.
Kanda is not one for sympathy - in fact, he’s the absolute last person anyone should go to for sympathy - but in this moment he thinks he’s perhaps brushed a too sensitive nerve that he wishes he had a way to soothe.
But Walker needs to scream this at him. If Kanda can’t be a comfort, he can be an outlet. In this way, too, he’ll help Allen. He’ll be a battering ram so this devastated soul can begin to heal.
Angry silver eyes look up at him now, all of the self-righteous rage in that fragile, human body being shoved at Kanda like a physical force. “That thing!” He yells. “It killed Master and Timcanpy…!” Jesus fucking Christ he sounds wrecked. This is what was hiding underneath the dead mask in the carriage. “Link, too! Apocryphos killed them all!”
Kanda can’t react even if he did want to, even if he hadn’t already decided to sit and draw in all of Walker’s pain and hate. He just stares, captivated, enraptured. “That innocence will destroy everything . Your memories. Your life! It’s not an anti-akuma weapon at all! It’s a monster that will kill humans and exorcists with its own hands! All for the sake of the Heart!”
Walker heaves with breaths, each sound coming out like a choking sob, but tears don’t fall. Hair falls across his cheeks, and Kanda has the sudden desire to be gentle with him. To wipe those bangs from his eyes and let him shake with anger against Kanda until he calms down.
He stays where he is. That isn’t why he’s here.
“Can you imagine,” Allen starts again, voice breaking with invisible tears. “What would happen if everyone in the Order ever learns about all this? That the thing they believe is a crystal of God…” He trails off for a moment, as Kanda gazes down at him, unable to keep his expression from softening. “The moment our faith in the innocence is lost, the Order will… we will crumble to pieces.”
Crumble like the ruins of Mater, like a precious person crumbling away in your arms.
Kanda moves Mugen away; Allen seems unperturbed by the wound on his innocence and simply lowers his arm. He feels his hair move from the back of his neck from the wind, appreciating the cool breeze on his heated skin.
“I’m the one apocryphos is after. It wants to merge with my body and destroy Neah.”
The thought of this utterly enrages Kanda, who never wants that to happen, but he just continues to listen. Walker never speaks like this. If Kanda spoke now, it might break the spell.
“Perhaps I should have let it do that,” Allen hiccups with those unshed tears, upset. “But that thing destroyed what I hold dear…”
He lowers his head, slumping forward. “Hah…” he exhales, deep, steadying himself. “Ugh, what the heck…spilling all my beans like this. Ahhh…drats.” It’s just like this idiot to feel bad about venting and be concerned that he spoke on his true feelings. What a dumbass. “You guys really just won’t let me be, huh?” Never. Never, never, never. “It made me feel like talking and all, and…” a pause. “Even though I wanted to get away…”
No you didn’t, Allen Walker. This is what you wanted.
Walker wants someone. Kanda doesn’t think he really cares who it is, just someone. Someone to show they’re by his side no matter what. Someone to help him not feel alone.
He’s probably fighting that feeling, but Kanda won’t let him keep denying it. He’s the worst man for the job, but he will show Allen Walker that he is not alone.
The idiot flops back onto the ground with a sardonic laugh, letting out shuddering breaths. Kanda thinks maybe this is catharsis in action, living and breathing and beautiful and right in front of him.
“Guess I’m also an idiot after all.” Walker says, arm thrown over his eyes but doing very little to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks. He lays there for a minute and Kanda watches him, too afraid to open his mouth, too afraid of what he’d say.
“Timcanpy,” Allen whispers, voice hoarse.
And then he sobs. Great, horribly shaky sobs that make his entire body tremble. Kanda thinks it’s probably been a very long time since he’s seen Allen cry in front of him, if he ever has, and he feels his chest ache horrendously as he watches this poor creature release its sorrow. “Dammit,” he cries, probably upset he let himself get so worked up. Kanda doesn’t see this as a bad thing, though. He exhales, watching Allen, desperate for something he can’t name; no matter how much this will help Walker in the end, it’s still unbearably painful to watch now.
The tension is broken by a violent, freezing gust of wind that sweeps through the park they ended up in.
“Ahh-choo!” Allen shivers, wrapping arms around himself as Kanda attempts to keep his hair from flying everywhere. He really wishes he hadn’t lost that goddamn hair tie. “Cold!”
“Oi!” Kanda snaps, running fingers through the knots and tangles in his hair. Fuckin wind. “Where the heck is this Godforsaken place?!” Allen just looks at him, hopeless.
Did he seriously fucking open the gate on pure impulse??
“Fine then! Just take us back to the old geezer’s wagon now!”
Allen gives him a blunt, deadpan response. This fucking idiot. “I don’t know how.”
What?? “What?!” How the hell does he ‘not know’ how to use the fucking ark by now? He certainly fucking got them to wherever the fuck they are now!
“I have no idea where the wagon is,” Walker returns, simply, as if this is not a huge fucking problem. “I’ve been shut inside the whole time, remember? And there weren’t any windows.”
Oh for fuck’s sake. When he intended to follow Walker, being trapped in who knows where for who knows how long was not what he meant.
“Don’t go saying shit like you don’t know, you idiot Beansprout!”
“The name’s Allen!”
I know your fucking name, Walker. I don’t use it because I don’t fucking want to.
“Then just force it open or something!” Kanda barks, a little desperate for this dumbass to figure something out.
“And I’m telling you it can’t be done! Bakanda!”
God, good lord. This is fucking. Ugh! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!
They glare at each other as if this will solve their problems, until Walker breaks the staring contest and looks around. He has to know where they are if the ark can only travel him to places he’s been. This idiot’s just a giant dumbass.
He looks around, determined and curious, and Kanda places a hand over his mouth, grimacing. His eyes keep tracking the way Walker’s hair grazes his neck now that it’s gotten so long. And that stupid little ponytail…damn it looks good.
Kanda stomps right down on that thought just in time for Allen to gasp and run over to a large tree to his left.
“Oi!” Kanda snaps, not really wanting to have to threaten Walker again if he’s trying to bolt off, but the beansprout stops once he gets to the tree in question, pale fingers of his right hand tracing strange symbols.
Allen looks like he’s seen a ghost, panting, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn. Or maybe he’s about to cry again? Kanda can’t tell what the fuck’s going on in Walker’s mind, but it’s something severe.
Someone cut this kid a fucking break. Even Kanda can see that whatever he’s going through seems to fuck with him nonstop.
“Mana’s...letters…”
Mana. His father? Allen looks up towards the tree, questioning, as if the dead branches hold some answer to some unspoken question, and as he gazes, expression softening, Kanda lets out an exhale.
Someone cut him a fucking break. Allen fucking Walker is going to be the death of him.
Suddenly the dumbass in question drops to the ground, circling the tree over and over, fingers digging through the dirt as if scavenging for berries or some shit.
Is he hungry or something? “Oi!? What the hell is up?!”
Allen doesn’t respond at first, still rustling around, searching for something, and Kanda is about to snap again since he deeply hates being ignored, but then stops himself. Walker seems to have found whatever he was looking for, hand pressed to a mound of dirt at the base of the tree. His fingers press flat against the soil before curling inward, gathering earth under his fingernails.
He’s just bent forward, Kanda can’t see his face, but he can hear his erratic breaths pick up again. He almost thinks he needs to take Allen to some bullshit pub after this to get wasted. He deserves it, probably.
“Britain,” Walker whispers, breath ghosting out in front of him from the cold. His voice sounds as small and as fragile as Kanda sees him. He’s like glass, so close to shattering that Kanda doesn’t know what to do with him beyond what he’s already tried. Well...he could try what normal fucking people do, but he’s no goddamn therapist. “The town of Eddingston, Britain.”
This shocks Kanda, his eyebrows drawing together and his pulse picking up. No wonder he’s upset.
“The town...where I met Mana, and then...Master and Tim.” Something in his gaze seems distant, as if he’s looking at something that isn’t there. “The place where I…where I began.”
Walker seems to know where he’s going for once, slowly walking around watching the ground, winsome and melancholy. Kanda’s finding it hard to keep his thoughts on track as he watches him thread through people absentmindedly; he assumes Allen is sorting through his thoughts.
Admittedly, he’s never cared to really ask the beansprout about his past. He’s not the type of person who pays attention to that shit and even if he was he always doubted he’d be told.
He swallows, frowning, something in him desperate to reach towards Walker, but he holds himself back. For weeks now he’s just been wanting to reach out, to feel if his skin is feverishly hot or ice cold, to see if he’s really that fragile, really just encased in glass.
He must be the only one who sees this, somehow, and Kanda hates to concede to Marie - that it’s because they’re so alike. Kanda has his own tragic past he doesn’t like to talk about, sure, but they’re different, right? God, he wants to reach out and touch.
His fingers tremble against Mugen’s hilt, ready to be drawn if Walker makes a run for it. He thinks maybe he’s ready to admit why he really can’t stand the thought of the beansprout running off; he’s losing some traction and it’s doing him no good to do the same thing Allen is doing. He shed off layers of baggage in Mater and it left him feeling…different.
Somehow it feels, finally, like he can love again.
He stops in the middle of the crowd, eyebrows drawn and watching Walker continue on, but he doesn’t want to lose sight of him so he jogs to catch back up. The idiot doesn’t even seem to notice. So unobservant.
It’s clear they’re walking away from the center of the city, likely due to Walker’s concern about harming people. If Akuma attack or the Fourteenth appears, people tend to die. Beansprout tends to not like that.
Once they’re out of all the people, Kanda feels like he can breathe easier. He prefers the outskirts as well, but for an entirely different reason.
There’s a structure on the other side of the trees, higher than the rest of the city that will give them a decent vantage point, and it’s the direction Walker seems to be heading. His stroll has turned into a more brisk walk, and while Kanda easily keeps up with him, it’s a little surprising.
They wind through the trees like they wound through the people, and Kanda’s mouth feels dry as they do, watching the sunlight filter down onto Allen’s hair and skin and coat. It softens him, somehow, making him look ethereal and innocent, and it makes Kanda think of the cherubs he’d learned about growing up. He’s otherworldly, and Kanda’s so desperate.
He gives in and reaches out, fingers wrapping around Allen’s wrist, and the sudden movement makes the other boy flinch. It stops him in his tracks though, and Walker looks back to him surprised before his expression hardens. “I’m not trying to escape, Bakanda. I’m just trying to get away from all the people.”
“I’m aware,” he returns gruffly, hating his traitorous mouth. Now he either has to come up with a lie or the truth and he really doesn’t want to do either. Shit, Walker’s eyelashes are so damn pale and they flutter sweetly against his cheeks as he blinks in surprise. It makes Kanda’s breathing hitch. Goddamn, he’s so compromised. This is making it hard to just focus on his mission.
“Then why the hell did you grab me?” Allen asks, eyebrows drawn but his words a little less sharp than they could be, probably.
Damn, he was looking at Allen’s stupid, pretty face and not formulating a response. For some reason, his idiotic brain thinks it a good idea to stay completely empty and just take in the sight in front of him. Walker’s slowly, progressively, losing patience, and shit he’s so much more attractive without the mask, but Kanda comes up with absolutely nothing except a hazy realization he’s here for completely selfish reasons.
“Well?”
Can he actually fucking help Walker like this? He could barely stand to hurt him earlier. Even if all that’s left in the end is his beautiful husk, Kanda isn’t sure if he’d have the resolve he’d convinced himself he had; a special sort of self-loathing settles in his stomach.
“Bakanda!”
Fuck, there is nothing in this world except for Allen Walker and guilt and beauty and desire and adoration.
He gently pulls on Allen’s wrist and it must have been unexpected, because Allen actually steps forward, confused.
“What’s with you? You broken or somethin’? Wake up!”
He snaps in front of Kanda’s face and Kanda immediately grabs his wrist on instinct, but he doesn’t push it away. No, he looks at it, gazes probably, eyes roving over the hardened skin of Allen’s left hand. He’s never looked at it so close up, and it’s a little mesmerizing now, while he’s heady with unspeakable emotion.
“K-Kanda?”
Ah, to hell with this.
He drops Allen’s arm and moves his hands to where he most wants them. Immediately Walker tenses, this probably being the absolute last thing he expected - Kanda’s hands on the sides of his neck, pushing to move through his hair and pull on his hair tie.
Allen’s cheeks are flushed, eyes wide now and expression open and guileless. Soft, white hair spills over his shoulders as Kanda draws his hands back and moves them to Allen’s jaw. He never assumed he’d be touching him like this, but he’s afraid to break him. He feels like he has to be gentle, Walker deserves it and he can’t do anything else anyway.
Allen lets out a heavy, warm exhale, breath fogging as it hits Kanda’s lips, and that’s when he realizes how close they are. The knowledge drives him mad, every inhibition and ounce of restraint rushing out of him in an instant.
“Kanda,” Allen whispers his name, confused and sad, and Kanda has no fucking idea why he sounds sad again, but he wants it to stop.
“Shit. Fuck. Fuck you, Allen Walker.”
Silver eyes go soft, and Kanda notices in the back of his mind that his thumbs have been softly moving against Allen’s cheeks.
“You look like you want to kiss me, Bakanda,” Allen whispers into the quiet forest, as if anyone could overhear them.
He does, unfortunately. He really, really does. Fuckin’ sucks that it shows on his face, but he does.
Allen sighs, softly, eyes slipping fully closed and giving in to leaning into Kanda’s hand. He holds this creature in his hands and wants it with such reckless fucking abandon that nothing else seems to matter in this moment.
“What if I fucking do, Beansprout?“
“My name’s Allen.”
“Yeah, I know what your goddamn name is. I’m not stupid.”
“Are you sure?”
This conversation has the same words they always do, but they sound different. They sound like whispered words of lovers and that doesn’t set Kanda on edge like it should. No, it sends warmth flooding through him, from his chest to his fingertips and down to his toes.
He gives in and kisses Allen, but Allen reaches him in the middle.
Ah, fuck, he’s really done for.
If he had ever imagined kissing Walker - and he had, fine, but no one else would ever know that - it was never like this. He figured it would be messy, unbridled, on the floor of a training mat or with one of their backs pressing into the cold stone of HQ’s walls. He figured there would be warm, exploratory hands and fingers clenching in hair and a rush, a need, a desperation.
Now, Kanda just feels soft. It’s not something he ever fucking dreamed of; it makes his chest swell.
Their kiss is gentle, tentative, as if neither of them is quite sure if this is really okay or not, and Kanda doesn’t have a lot of experience with kissing but Allen’s motions seem awfully practiced. There’s a soft drag of lips, mouths opening against each other but no pushing forward, and Kanda can taste Allen in a way he assumes he’ll never forget.
Their lips are a little chapped from the cold, but it doesn’t matter; his hands move from Allen’s chin and down the column of his throat before sliding down his arms. He can feel Walker shake softly under his touch, but Kanda doesn’t think he’s scared. His kiss hasn’t changed. It’s as if Kanda’s answering a question Allen hasn’t had the heart to ask for.
Their fingers link for a brief second before Allen moves to wrap his arms around Kanda’s waist and he pulls away just a little. His eyes are lidded and relaxed, stunningly gorgeous, and Kanda can’t find any words for him. His hands move to Allen’s back, fingers softly gripping the material and pulling him forwards again.
There’s a soft gasp against his lips as the kiss turns a little more insistent, though not any less gentle, and he feels completely filled to the brim with emotion and feeling. How unusual, since most of his last nine years of life have been mostly apathetic and numb.
“Kanda,” is whispered against his mouth, reverent and needy, and suddenly Kanda has to fight every instinct in him to not shove Walker to the ground and see where that takes them. Hearing his name like that makes him feel like it fully belongs to him, no one else past or present.
The hands on his waist hold him tighter, impossibly tight, and Allen takes what Kanda wouldn’t give.
The kiss deepens and Kanda is now decidedly falling behind - this is outside his realm of knowledge. Still, he attempts to keep up anyway, moving on instinct and split second imitations of the way Allen’s mouth moves against his. It continues to be different than he assumed it would be though, considering he’d had no real frame of reference before.
He’s pushed backwards a little until he feels his spine pushed up against a tree, and something about being crowded is both disarming and suffocating all at once. He has no idea if he enjoys this or not, but Walker doesn’t seem to pay that much mind and that knowledge, if nothing else, keeps him rooted to the spot, letting arousal coil tight in his abdomen.
He wanted to get the guy a beer, but this works, too.
Letting Allen hold him down must give the idiot some sense of control back, and he supposes he can give Walker that as well in addition to his life, his future. Honestly, Allen Walker can have anything he damn well pleases. Kanda doesn’t even know if he could refuse him by this point.
“Kanda, Kanda, Kanda.“
His name is said like a mantra, like a prayer, and it swallows him whole, overtaking him and leaving him even more desperate than when he started. He can’t say anything back, afraid of what he’d say, so he just keeps following Walker’s lead, picking up a rhythm to the kiss and giving a full body jerk when he feels Walker’s tongue softly move against his bottom lip.
Damn. Beansprout really knows how to fucking kiss. How’d he fucking learn all this? When did he find the goddamn time? Shit, nevermind, Kanda doesn’t even want to know. He’ll just convince himself it’s all instinct.
Hands are in his hair then, deft fingers tangling into the strands and desperately moving against the base of his skull, and Kanda can’t help himself from groaning as Allen tugs at it. As if the simple act of Kanda groaning turns Allen on, he moans right back and Kanda is an absolute fucking goner. He can never go back to not knowing what Walker sounds like when they’re all wrapped up in each other, and he’s lightheaded enough that he thinks he could possibly pass out when Allen yanks on his hair again, much harder.
Kanda was not expecting this, had no presence of mind to brace himself; with a sharp gasp his head is pulled back and Allen reaches to nose at the junction of his throat and jaw. He can feel the way his pulse jumps against Walker’s lips, and the rush of energy that sweeps through him is so powerful that he can’t ignore it. He knows he wants Allen closer and that’s it, so he separates them forcibly for just a second to crouch slightly, hook his hands under Allen’s knees, and lift him up. He uses the tree against his back as leverage, but it doesn’t even take that much strength to lift him.
Even if it did, he doesn’t think he’d have the presence of mind to know. Allen moans again, voice hoarse and rough, and his legs wrap around Kanda’s hips and his arms scramble to brace around Kanda’s shoulders. “Fuck,” Walker whimpers. “You’re strong.”
That’s not news to anyone, but hearing it said like that makes him feel proud and also extremely fucking turned on at the same time. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembers it’s the middle of the goddamn day and they’re outdoors, but the voice that immediately follows tells him they’re hidden by all the trees and away from the populated area of the city.
Also who the fuck cares?
“How long can you hold me?” Allen breathes against his cheek, panting, his breath warm and damp despite the cold. He punctuates the question with an experimental thrust against Kanda’s hips, and Kanda gasps loudly, fingers digging into Allen’s thighs.
How long can I hold you? Forever. Forever and ever and fucking ever. He never wants to let go.
All the blood in his body is definitely in his cock, he thinks, and it’s making him real goddamn stupid. He makes a jerky motion right back, mimicking, chasing that same friction, and he groans against Allen’s hair. “You’re so fucking light, Beansprout. I can keep you like this all goddamn day.”
Allen moans, his voice rising in pitch, and Kanda wants more of it. More, more of everything. “Call me…Allen!”
His lips graze the shell of Allen’s ear; he can feel his own hot breath fanning back against his own mouth as he whispers, “ Allen. ”
Walker gives a full body shiver in his arms, hands violently scrambling against him as he whines, whines, and starts to harshly rut against Kanda’s dick.
Kanda has no clue of how this happened or why it’s happening or sort of even what’s happening beyond the pure instincts filling him to the brim, and he gives absolutely zero fucks. His grip on Allen’s thighs tighten as he brings them together, only understanding how good it feels in this moment.
Walker seems crazy, desperate, leaning back and looking at Kanda in the eyes with what may possibly be the look that steals all his breath from him and ends him someday. Quickly, he rushes out, “Don’t drop me,” and before Kanda can respond to tell Walker there’s no way he would, mismatched fingers are yanking at the buttons on his coat.
Kanda’s an idiot, but he’s not that much of an idiot. He reestablishes his grip on Allen, jostling him and making them both hiss with pleasure when their hips brush as the first few buttons come undone.
Beansprout is very utilitarian with his actions, single-minded and determined, clearly working with one goal in mind. Once the buttons are out of the way he begins to hastily fumble with Kanda’s coat buckle, leaning back far enough that Kanda does have to exert some strain to keep the idiot from falling backwards. Walker manages, though, of course he does, and his hand presses flat against Kanda’s chest to push the coat from his shoulders.
It’s cold, but his body is heated up to the point he barely notices. He feels those exploratory touches he’d once imagined, but when he imagined them he never even knew his body could be so sensitive. The feeling of Walker’s hand just brushing across his collar bone, his chest, his ribs, has his back arching, has him panting loudly as he watches with narrowed eyes at those hands brushing across his nipples before trailing down. He sighs, body buzzing with arousal, and tips his head up to look at Walker again.
Allen looks at him like he’s a work of art, something to be admired, enjoyed, and he can’t take it. Honestly, he isn’t even sure if he’ll last long enough for skin on skin contact by this point.
But the beansprout is determined. His coat bunches uncomfortably at his elbows as Allen works on his pant’s belt, somehow managing to easily undo the buckle and unzip his pants before diving in for another kiss.
Kanda is on edge. He wants to take what he wants, wants to shove against Allen and rut until he comes, but he doesn’t. This is them both forgetting where they are, who they are, all the bad shit going on. In this moment it’s only them in the entire universe and there’s nothing to worry about.
He feels calloused fingers wrap around him and he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, head bowed as he watches Allen’s pale fingers move up and down, alternating in between too light and too rough. A noise rips from the back of his throat, something between a growl and a snarl, his fingers slipping slightly against the soft fabric of Allen’s pants.
“Sure you can still hold me up all fucking day?” Walker asks, sounding wrecked and breathy and delicious, but something else in his tone sounds like a challenge and Kanda does not back down from a challenge; he digs his nails harshly into Walker’s thighs, eliciting a sharp hiss. “There’s the Kanda I know,” Allen whispers, leaning forward and nosing against the shell of Kanda’s ear. His grip on Kanda’s cock is driving him absolutely mad. “Always figured you’d wanna rough me up.”
As much as he’d like to, he can’t help the harsh gasp he makes. “Always, huh?” Kanda somehow manages to grunt out.
He doesn’t say that he’s been thinking of this for what feels like forever, too.
“Always.”
Something about that word, that one word, makes him come so hard he nearly drops the boy in his arms. His hands scramble as his arms shake and he shudders against Allen, muffling a moan into his neck.
Allen holds him through it, and Kanda feels so much he can’t name, and so much he never thought he would. They kiss, rough and intimate, until Kanda decides it’s stupid to keep drawing this out. He just wants to feel Allen shake against him, gasp, moan, cling to him, cry for him. He wants to draw lust and love and life from his lips.
He turns them around, harshly shoving Walker against the tree and dropping him before situating his pants back the way they originally were. Allen easily catches himself, even though he’s clearly a little off balance, and wraps his arms around Kanda’s neck as they kiss again.
Everything stops when Kanda starts to tug at the latches of his coat.
Allen’s hands are on his shoulders, not pushing but not letting him press closer either; his head is back against the tree as silver eyes regard him with trepidation.
All that shit and now he’s acting like a virgin? Kanda’s the one with zero experience - what’s his problem?
No easier way to find out than to ask. “What?” Kanda questions brusquely.
Allen searches his eyes as if Kanda has the answers. It makes him feel fidgety, which is incredibly fucking unlike him, but he just grimaces and waits.
“I…” Allen licks his lips and looks away. His eyebrows are pulled together and he looks…upset. Alright, what the fuck is that? The cold is setting in and he shifts as if to try to get his coat back on his shoulders. It doesn’t work very well. Come on, Walker. Speak. “I don’t…”
“You don’t what? ”
“I’m…”
He looks back at Kanda and it makes sense, now. He had no issue when he was in control, but maybe this will leave Allen feeling too bare, emotionally. Kanda understands, he was just too fucking hot and bothered to stop them when it was his turn.
“Ugh,” Kanda groans. “I fucking get it, fine.”
Allen looks at him quizzically.
It takes a lot of fucking willpower but he switches their positions again, pulling Walker towards him. He snakes a hand up his side and up to his neck before whispering, “Take what you want, Allen.”
It goes against his base nature, but what can he do about it?
But Walker looks at him with something like relief or gratitude. As if Kanda could ever deny him anything. As if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing Kanda had ever laid eyes on. As if Kanda had the capacity to make him feel any worse than he already does.
“Forget about it all, Dipshit,” Kanda continues. “Just be here. With me.” Don’t run anymore. Don’t go.
Allen’s eyes lid and he kisses Kanda, drawing him in for a new kiss. “Fuck yes,” Walker murmurs, running fingers through the ends of Kanda’s hair as Kanda begins to work on his coat again. This time Allen helps him, maneuvering until the coat has slipped completely off his shoulders and falls to the ground. It’s fucking freezing, but of course Allen doesn’t even notice, just working on his belt and unlatching it with ease as he continues to lick into Kanda’s mouth. It’s impressive, frankly, how dexterous this guy is.
Shit, Kanda wants to take over so goddamn bad, but that didn’t go over so well the first time. Still, he’s desperate to touch, to feel, to take, to give; it takes everything in him to not try to dominate Walker.
“Touch me,” Allen whispers, finally, finally giving Kanda permission.
He does exactly that, running hands all over Walker, his body feverishly hot and so far from fragile it isn’t even funny. His skin is rough from scars on his arms - Kanda can even feel some of the worse ones through his shirt - and there are toned muscles hard and solid nearly everywhere his fingertips go. Walker is real, he’s here, he’s human. He touches in a way that he didn’t before when he was overwhelmed with just wanting Allen’s hand on his dick; this is reverant, full of wonder and awe that this person is with him, under his hands, not running from him anymore.
Eight months ago, when everyone else believed they were all just exorcists, when this idiot believed in the Order and what they stood for, he never would have done this. At the time, Allen was something to desire and perhaps even something to figure out, but this is a different sort of need now.
Alma gave him back the capacity to love, and by extension, so did Walker. There’s gratitude, affection, irritation, impatience, desire, anger, sadness, want, need. Need . Need like humans need air and water and food. Need like humans need comfort and love and a reprieve from torture and melancholy. Even he feels his edges have softened dramatically, worn down like an aged blade dulled from use, but he thinks this is better.
As he touches Allen softly, worshipping him and his presence and his life, harsh fingers grip around his wrist. “Don’t do that,” Walker chokes out, and at first Kanda is irritated, thinks the idiot is just desperate and horny, but that isn’t the case at all. “Don’t do that,” he says again, eyes wide and wet and pleading. “Don’t look at me like you love me. Please. Don’t love me.”
Kanda is taken aback, not even sure what he would reply, before Walker just rushes in and Kanda decides it’s best to just follow his flow before he makes Allen flighty again.
Don’t love you, huh? What an asshole.
Allen Walker is as selfish as ever, a hero who saves but refuses to be saved. Kanda worries if he’ll ever drop that act, wonders if he’ll ever allow himself to be loved. It’s unfortunate that people can’t control love, because a lot of fucking people love Allen Walker, and he loves none of them back.
He stops his gentle, exploratory touches, and skips everything to just wrap his hand around Allen’s cock. The boy in his arms shakes, exhales harshly, places his forehead against Kanda’s shoulder and muffles his little sounds into the fabric of Kanda’s shirt. He’s desperate for more, but refuses to ask for it - clearly it’s not a welcome question.
It makes him angry, spiteful, and it translates into the way he rubs Walker off, moving faster, harsher, the nails of his other hand digging sharply into the base of Allen’s skull. “Is this what you want, you asshole?” Kanda hisses at him, right into his ear. “You fucking degenerate piece of shit.”
Allen moans, then bites down on Kanda’s shoulder hard.
Looks like it is. Fine. This, Kanda can do, especially right now.
He keeps his pace up with the hand on Allen’s dick, but gets a good grip on Walker’s hair and pulls - not in a way that will yank his head back like he did with Kanda, but in such a way that it would just sting at his scalp. “You disgust me,” Kanda snarls at him as Allen squirms against him, mouth opening into a pant. His breath is warm and wet against Kanda’s shirt. “You’re a fucking asshole. Asking people not to fucking love you. What kind of motherfucker does that? You drive me up the goddamn wall. I just wanna tear you apart sometimes.”
Allen whines, sounding desperate and needy, and Kanda rubs his thumb over the slit of Allen’s cock, pushing his thumbnail in just so and eliciting a gorgeous keening noise.
“You are just fucking filthy,” Kanda continues, wrapped up in anger and arousal and the knowledge that this is the exact behavior Allen wants. “You think this is exactly what you deserve, so this is what you ask for? I fucking hate you - is that what you want to hear? You’re an ice cold bitch, just taking and taking and taking, and I swear I’m the only one that’s going to be ripping your miserable little life from you.”
For some goddamn reason this drives Allen further, now gripping Kanda’s biceps and squeezing harshly and he attempts to control his voice.
“No, you want to scream? Scream. You want people to fucking see you like this. You want everyone to know how disgusting you are. You want people to not love you. Scream. Let them come running.”
Allen’s voice breaks, catching in the back of his throat. “K-Kanda…!”
“What? Is there something else you want, Princess? Something else you have the fucking gall to ask me?” He pulls Allen’s hair again, this time using his grip to maneuver Walker right where he wants him so that he can bite at Allen’s jaw and throat. Maybe if he covers him in bruises that’ll make Kanda feel better. Maybe.
“That’s…that’s good,” Allen gasps, scrambling. “God, keep fucking me like this.”
“Always such a bratty little shit,” Kanda growls, biting down hard just below Allen’s ear. “You want what you fucking want, but don’t give a shit about anyone else. You make me fucking sick.”
He can tell Allen is close from the way his body shakes, the way his hips jerk. His cock is soaked with precum, and this is equal parts sexy as hell and irritating. Allen is absolutely getting off on this, and the getting off part is hot, but the reason why just makes Kanda want to strangle him.
He moves his grip from Allen’s hair to the back of his neck, harshly holding him in place.
“This is gonna make you come? This right here? Me snarling at you about how much I hate you? You make me want to be cruel, genuinely cruel. You know I don’t hate you at all.”
Allen is writhing now, moaning recklessly among the trees, neck bared as Kanda whispers into it.
“Come on, then,” Kanda demands, moving into motions that might hurt usually, but just serve to make Allen freeze against him as his eyes screw shut and his mouth opens with a silent cry. “Come, you asshole. Take what you want like always. You want me to be mean, you want me to tear you apart?”
Allen is clearly on the precipice of his orgasm; Kanda can feel his own heartbeat flying wild in his chest as Allen’s voice builds, turning into more of a constant whine. “Yes,” Allen begs, pleads. “Tear me apart. Fuck me.”
Kanda presses his mouth to Allen’s ear. “Then I can be cruel. You are the most beautiful motherfucker I have ever seen. I can’t leave you alone, I won’t. You have no authority to tell me what to do or who to love.” Allen barely has time to cover his mouth before he comes on a half-scream. Kanda continues to jerk him off through his orgasm. “What I hate the most about you is that - that you won’t let anyone love you. Not even me, when you saved my fucking life. Fuck you, Walker. I’d say I hope you fucking die alone, but I wouldn’t fucking mean it.”
Allen chokes out a sob as Kanda pulls his hand away and angrily wipes it off on Allen’s shirt. Walker doesn’t seem to mind or even notice, eyes glazed over and lips red and wet from kissing. Kanda kisses him again, harsh and heavy and hot.
He pushes them apart soon after and pulls his coat back on his shoulders as Allen dazedly reaches down to grab his own coat. He seems completely out of it, even though Kanda feels alive and alert and very, very angry.
“Kanda,” Allen intones, his voice rough and raw. Kanda looks at him, at his soft, sad silver eyes and his resigned smile and unfortunately he does love Allen Walker. Very much. “Sorry.”
Kanda inhales sharply, body alight with fury, and he grabs Allen by his lapels once more to draw him forward.
“Sorry for what?” He snarls.
Allen just continues smiling the same smile, but maybe his eyes get a little sadder. Gentle fingers settle on his cheek. “Sorry I’m so broken.”
And then he walks away. Kanda is frozen to the spot, wanting to scream, wanting to cut down every fucking tree in the forest, hoping at least one fucking Akuma might show up so he can at least work some of this frustration out.
It takes him far too long to find the ability to walk again. Walker is long gone, but Kanda knows where he’s headed and follows even though he really doesn’t want to.
He sees Allen already sitting amongst the pillars when he climbs the hill. He’s watching the sunset with a strange sort of melancholy, and it leeches some of Kanda’s abrasion from him. He still feels anger, but it’s subdued now, just sitting in the back of his mind.
Maybe none of this is really Walker’s fault. He’s clearly been through shit.
He doesn’t want to admit that he just can’t stay that angry at Allen for very long anymore. He especially can’t when the boy looks like that.
Maybe he should play therapist, just this once.
He moves his hair back from his neck and walks up to the structure quietly. Eventually, he’ll force Walker to look at him, to really see and accept everything. One day, Allen won’t tell Kanda not to love him. He’ll keep him safe forever, so long as he gets that.
That beautiful, sad creature Allen Walker - Kanda isn’t letting him go anywhere. Not letting him run. Not anymore.