Coffee without the Cream
Because sometimes everything else doesn't make too much sense.
Disclaimer: I do not own D.Gray-Man (nor do I want Kanda).
Yuu Kanda, college student extraordinaire, liked his coffee black.
He liked it as black as his hair and as black as his eyes.
It made him feel manlier and in control.
His refusal to get a haircut often caused many people to mistaken him for a woman, so he needed some sort of relief from the overwhelming urge to destroy and maim all who doubted his masculinity.
Kanda also had a bad habit of overanalyzing everything impulsively.
From where his seat in the café was located (three tables to the right, middle row, second chair on right hand side) to the details of the menu (coffee and sweets, which the café never seemed to change).
He was a contradiction in a box.
He even had a wind-up attachment.
It was simple; you continuously taunted Kanda and POP goes your jaw bone!
But, to put Yuu Kanda in a nutshell, it was easy to say that Kanda had issues.
And he drank black coffee.
Lots and lots of black coffee.
His seat was occupied.
The second chair on the right hand side in the middle row three tables to the left was being sat in by some white-haired albino freak.
Kanda almost crushed the Styrofoam cup of blacker-than-the-blackest-of-black black coffee he held in his hand. He glared at the intruder, hoping this would scare the guy out his seat before he had to get violent.
The seat-occupier turned his head and looked Kanda square in the eyes. The Japanese college student almost squinted his right eye to see how the albino freak felt, with that long red scar crossing it much like a chicken would cross a road. Except, the chicken actually made it across and trailed along some more, effectively screwing up some poor bloke's eye.
Albino-Boy smiled at him. "Am I in your seat?" he asked in a clear English tone. Kanda nodded stiffly, aching to sit down and sip slowly at his black-as-night-in-Sweden coffee.
"My apologies, as I had no idea that this was your seat," Albino-Boy continued, still smiling. Kanda rolled his eyes, feeling his coffee become nearly warm. He didn't want a speech, just for the guy to get the hell out his seat!
"This is my first time here, and I was so nervous that I chose the seat on--,"
Kanda almost roared in anger. "Would you shut the fuck up and get the hell out my seat?!" he snarled. Albino-Boy cocked an eyebrow and shook his head, getting out the most wanted seat.
"And here I thought that you'd have more manners," he drawled. "You disappoint me."
Kanda sat himself down immediately and Albino-Boy sat in front of him, still smiling. The black-haired man ignored the smile and gulped down his coffee in three swallows, slamming the cup on the table once he was done.
Albino-Boy looked at the cup in amazement. "That coffee must've been hot," he said.
Kanda rolled his eyes. "Of course not, it was cold. Freak, of course it was hot!" he snapped, waving over the Chinese waitress who normally took his order.
Albino-Boy grinned misleadingly. "Oh, why must we resort to name-calling?" he asked innocently. Kanda didn't trust his innocence, not one bit. "My name is Allen Walker." He stuck out his hand across the table in greeting. His hand was covered with a white glove (possibly stolen from Michael Jackson's glove closet, but he could be too sure), yet Kanda could see a small strip of black between the glove and the sleeve.
The Japanese student glared at the hand. "Yuu Kanda," he tersely replied, his morals and honorific shit getting the best of him. Allen beamed at the mere fact that he answered him and settled on seeing how far he could get.
"How old are you, Kanda?" he found himself asking first.
"Nineteen." With an un-added but implied "GRRRR SHUT THE HELL UP". It was actually rather understandable in Kandanese, the national language of Kanda.
"Oh really? I'm fifteen! Are you a college student? I'm a high school student, in tenth grade!"
"Yeah really, I don't care, yes, I don't care, and I DO NOT CARE."
"What are you studying?"
"…You aren't too friendly, aren't you?"
Kanda was so close.
One lunged tackle would've knocked the air out of his lungs for a good week.
But then the waitress took this chance to actually come to the table.
"Hi Kanda, how may I take your order?" Lenalee Lee, as her nametag implied, chirped happily. Kanda groaned at her tone and at Allen's smile.
"I'll take a coffee. Black, blacker than the depths of Hell, if possible." This was unheard of, as no one ordered coffee that was blacker than the depths of Hell. That was, like, the strongest of black coffees.
Lenalee scribbled this down and turned to Allen. "Hello cutie, how may I take your order?" she greeted even happier than she did Kanda. Allen smiled charmingly.
"I'll take whatever he's having."
Kanda snorted. "I don't think you'd be able to handle it."
"Try me, and watch carefully Kanda."
The Japanese student paused before smirking. "All right, you're on."
The white-haired boy smirked as well. "Great! If you win, you get to make a verbal restraining order and I'll never bother you again."
Kanda raised an eyebrow. "And if you win?"
"Then you must be my friend."
Kanda almost choked. "Friend?! I… I don't do friendship!" he snapped.
Allen smiled. "Well then, you shouldn't have agreed."
What a fine gambler this boy was. Kanda had to admit, he was almost impressed.
Two cups of coffee were placed in front of the two. The coffee was black. Blacker than the depths of Hell. So black that the white cups could hardly contain the pure blackness of it all.
Kanda shook the cup lightly and was awed by how it didn't even ripple, it was so black. He took a small sip, deemed it black enough, and gulped it back in four gulps, not even trying to spare a look at Allen.
When he slammed the cup on the table, he was rather shocked to find Allen wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, smiling.
Kanda decided, at that very moment, he must've been a big fat smiling cheater.
"You cheated," he simply said. "I'm positive you cheated."
"How do you cheat with drinking coffee, exactly?"
"Hell if I know. You tell me, cheater."
Allen sighed. "This is immature, Kanda."
"You're immature, cheater."
"Well, I didn't cheat. You have no proof, so there."
Kanda opened his mouth to retort, but discovered for the first time that he had nothing to say, shockingly. Allen stood up, and stretched his arms.
"How about we get a coffee for the road, Kanda?" he asked lightly. Kanda cocked an eyebrow.
"'We'? Who are 'we'?" the black-haired man retorted.
"You must've forgotten the terms of the bet. I won, so you get to be my friend. This means that you should at least take the care of walking me back home, since I'm fifteen years old, cute, small, and pathetic-looking."
"So? I don't want to."
Kanda had to resist the hold of his pride and honorific shit, but in the end, it won.
"Let's get some coffee," he muttered, ignoring the beaming smile Allen pointed at him.
Kanda was impressed this time.
The boy played a good game of blackmail.
When Kanda stood up in front of Allen, though, a lot of respect flew out the window.
He looked down. "…Damn you're short."
Allen looked up. "And you're tall, so what?"
"You're like, a new breed of short. You're a fucking bean sprout."
"…I have nothing to say to that."
They reached the counter, Kanda still awed towards how short the person who beat him in his coffee game was. Well, they did say that coffee stunted growth, which might explain a lot with Allen Walker.
"Two black coffees, please!" Allen ordered. The cups were placed in front of the two almost immediately. They took their cups, Allen saying thank you and Kanda trying to escape the albino weirdo.
It didn't work, for the record.
Allen caught up with the distressed Japanese man and smiled. "You weren't trying to leave without me, were you?" he teased.
Kanda looked at him with his serious eyes. "Yes. I was. Now, if you'd excuse me, I'd like to continue with ditching you."
He got him again.
"Damn it, bean sprout." Kanda cursed, throwing away his empty cup of coffee in a nearby garbage bin. Allen grinned at him.
And then Kanda plucked his untouched cup of coffee from his hands, sipping at it almost immediately. Allen jumped in offense.
"That was my coffee!"
"And we're friends, bean sprout, and friends share shit, right?"
Allen had nothing to say.
And so, the story ends with the duo walking down the street, and then something falls out of Allen's pocket.
If either of them had stopped and looked back at that very moment, then much would've been revealed.
Since an empty packet of creamer lay on the ground.
Allen is a dirty, dirty cheater.
I know it's bad, you don't have to tell me.