A Cry from the Heart

If love is eternal,

Death is merely a deception.

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There was so much to be said, and so much to be heard, but he was silent. In all his arsenal of responses, replies and reactions, he found himself plunging into a state of vacuity – his words were stuck, lost somewhere down his throat in a heated mesh. And yet, there was no need for exchanges, Lavi greeted him with a look of wretched despair.

"Go in, Allen, Kanda has been waiting for you." He said, without so much as a fleeting glance. Lavi simply averted his gaze to the passageway that glowed dimly under the inadequate lightning of fire torches wounded in metal rings on the wall – they threatened to extinguish, conceding to the damp, sticky atmosphere that billowed treacherous wind.

The air was cold this evening.

Allen nodded, bobbing his head slightly up and down, in response. He couldn't look at him in the eye for fear his gleam of emotion plastered in those orbs would shatter what's left of his mental state. He was so afraid – so afraid of what he might decipher from those eyes, so terrified of self-prophesizing the worst. He needed all the resolute and strength to carry on, to face what he had been dreading for ages.

He stepped into the cold room, and he could distinctively hear his footsteps resounding in the silent space. The atmosphere was dense with a sickly air, and it seemed to creep up from his feet – chilling his bloodstream into a series of electrostatic shock, causing small goose bumps to erupt in his skin. Allen felt his nerves tautening like the tight strings of a viol, winding up to the point of snapping. There was a feeling…a feeling of death that seemed to reach inexorably forward for him with its shadowy claw. He lifted his head, just a little slightly to take in his surroundings. There were two people, standing beside the bed, talking in low inaudible voices. They, however, didn't seem aware of his presence in the room. Under the dim light hanging feebly at the ceiling, he could scarcely make out their faces but he recognized them in an all too familiar aspect – Supervisor Komui and his sister, Lenalee. He could hardly discern their expressions sported, though their voices, he heard, were one engaged in solemn and poignant. Something was wrong. Something bad had happened. No - something bad was about to take its course.

"A-Allen…" she greeted weakly, rubbing her eyes. He could see the tracks of tears that glinted under the faint, weak lightning. It was then he realized that Lenalee was crying, her eyes were swollen – red and puffy, drenched in sorrow. She averted her gaze to the ground, staring down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze.

"Come, Lenalee." Komui placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, leading her out of the room. "Allen," he suddenly called, his tone was grim, pausing in front of the door. He turned his heels to face him, and Allen could see the streaks of tears drying up on his face. Komui looked at him for a long while, hesitant. "Kanda's condition has worsened. He…" Komui averted his gaze elsewhere. "Allen, just spend as much time as you can with him."

"What –" Allen began, he had something to ask, something he must know, but Komui had already left the room, closing the door with a soft 'thud'. He was left, standing there at the door, wordless and troubled with questions.

"Moyashi…" a voice, barely discernible, reached his ears. It seemed to reverberate against the walls and echo through to the void in his heart. "Moyashi." Kanda called again, shifting his body to prop himself up against his pillow. But he was too weak, his hands could barely support his weight, and his arms gave way – causing him to fall back down onto the soft mattress.

"Kanda!" Allen cried, rushing to his side. "You're injured." He reprimanded in his gentle way. "So stop moving around and just rest." His eyes swam with concern as he settled himself down on the chair positioned beside the bed. As he did so, he caught a fleeting gaze, through the window, of the weather outside.

The sky was darkening to an endless depth – it seemed to portray his innermost feelings. The torn clouds were barely visible – though present – floating silently in nature's blanket. Everything was moving so…slowly, so silently, and...lifeless. Everything, Allen noticed, seemed to be shrouded with a scent of fatality. He shivered slightly, feeling both troubled and scared, he didn't wish to brood over such dreadful thoughts when they seem to visit him incessantly – haunting him in his dreams and waking hours. He would shove them aside, denying its very presence, and plead ignorance when it greeted him so relentlessly.

"Moyashi." Kanda called softly again as he lifted a hand to touch his cheek. Allen leaned forward and he could feel a shot of coldness piercing through – Kanda's hand felt awfully cold as though all the blood has stopped running through his veins and arteries. Kanda's skin was sallow but beautifully unblemished in that pale face. His lower abdomen was draped around with bandages. The tattoo, however, was evident on his chest – like blue, black stained ink. It very presence seemed to be a reminder, buried somewhere in the back of his head, and like ruthless currents of the ocean - Allen felt an inexplicable surge of fear. It's very sight sent a greater wave of dread swimming up to his head – clouding his thoughts and resurfacing obscured questions.

"Kanda, please tell me that everything is all right." Allen's voice trembled, his eyes filled with a tint of terror and trepidation. "Please…" He wished, he just wished silently in his heart, that Kanda was fine. That he would tell him, what he wanted to hear from those pale lips, how he was merely wounded during the battle and, no sooner, he would fully recover from those physical injuries. Please. Just please - anything but the tattoo.

Kanda managed a weak smile in response, his lips cracking with dryness. He couldn't answer for it would be a lie. And yet, he wanted to tell him everything – to make him understand. How he wished he could, though, but the very thought of it made him cower in disgrace. What good would it do? Nothing. Simply nothing. He couldn't bear to watch Allen sink into depression after knowing about his condition. No, if he must, he would rather undertake this ill-fated life alone.

He patted lightly at the spot beside him – gesturing Allen to accompany him in bed. Allen complied with his request for he got up from his seat and lay down on his side, facing Kanda – feeling his weight compressing against the polyester fabric. He placed his hands around Allen's slim waist, pulling his petite body closer to his in an embrace. Kanda could practically feel warmth oozing through his every pore – unlike his – and relished in what seemed like a forbidden emotion. He didn't care, he wasn't the least concerned about that notion. He just wanted Allen, he just wanted to be with him…alone and together…for the very last night.

And, with such a simple desire, he was perfectly content.

Allen could hear his soft heartbeats, engaging in such an intimate position, as he snuggled his face into his chest. He placed his palm on Kanda's upper torso, feeling the small humps that resulted with each pulse. Although ridiculous, in a strange way, it soothed his frayed nerves, for a very simple reason, because it was a perfect illustration for Kanda's well being. And that was all that mattered.

"Kanda…" Allen whispered as he lifted his head to meet Kanda's gaze. His beautiful orbs, Allen observed, was frizzled with specks of blue and white hues. D-Did Kanda cry? "Is everything all right?"

"Do you remember the first time we met?" Kanda suddenly intoned, blatantly shoving his question to one side. A small smile started playing on his lips and Allen knew he was trying to change the topic. "It was anything but pleasant." He chuckled lightly, and Allen could hear his chest vibrating as he did.

"Kanda." Allen called after his retreating back, and smiled politely. Their first encounter had called for an unwanted discomfort; therefore he felt it was only right for him to introduce himself. Kanda halted in his footsteps, but chose not to turn his heels.

"I'm Allen Walker." Allen flashed a wide grin, extending his hand in a friendly gesture.

"Hn. As if I'd shake hands with someone cursed." Kanda snarled and walked away in quick strides. It had left a very bad impression on Allen as his hands wobbled in a comical fashion, humiliated by the coldhearted exorcist.

"Kanda, what's going on?" Allen ventured again, his pale eyes searching his. As far as their relationship was concerned, he understood the distinctiveness in his abnormal behavior. Kanda hardly laughs and if he did, it was either in mockery or was sheer atypical on his part. And for a very strange reason – it scared him. He didn't know why nor was he keen on knowing.

Kanda was silent - he simply pulled Allen tighter against his body, seeking comfort in their solitude moments of embrace. 'Would this be the last time?' Kanda thought. 'Would this be the last time I'll ever hold you in my arms again?' He wished, he prayed, that this moment would extend its grace on his very last breath. He wished…it would never end. But that was a deception – pure imprudence played only by foolish counterparts who dared defy the gripping fingers of death and fate. There was no escape. It was only a matter of time…minutes…seconds…

Kanda sighed deeply, a sound grief-stricken and weary. Allen noticed it too for he peered up into Kanda's wan face. Allen's big, chocolate orbs were filled with such concern and trepidation – it sent a warm runnel of regret and despair scourging through his soul. Those eyes…those beautiful walnut eyes that was always sparkling with vigor and joy…yes, he would miss them.

Allen had opened his mouth to say something but was quickly cut off as Kanda sealed his lips with his own.

"You know I'll always love you, Moyashi." Kanda said, his voice a hoarse whisper, as he broke off from the soft, pursed kiss. "You mean so much to me." He smiled sadly, brushing off a few strands of hair from his forehead and gazed fondly, with those eyes that further stressed on his actions, at him.

"I-I…I love you, Kanda…" Allen confessed, his lips trembling as he spoke.

Kanda stood, rooted to the spot, for a second before he turned and looked mildly at him, his eyebrows raised above his eyes. "Love?" He spat; venom seemed to run through his choice of diction. "I don't need, nor do I care for, any." He knew it was a lie, though. He was betraying his very own sentiments and conscience. Why? Why did the Moyashi have to say all those meaningless words now? He…he couldn't love…it was forbidden. It was worthless, he felt, to venture into this passion where his life stood so bleakly at the hinge of death.

In all his façade of ignorant pride and shelved attitude, Kanda began walking off again. The feeling, Allen noticed, was all too familiar. Albeit all the harsh words and dejected ache, he still rushed forward – chasing after Kanda - and wrapped his arms around his chest.

"You're lying!" Allen cried as he sobbed into his back. Kanda didn't push him away, as Allen thought he would, but he turned around to reciprocate the embrace.

"Kanda, please…what's happening." Allen asked, feeling more scared than ever, tears were starting to well up at the corner of his eyes. "You're scaring me. Kanda…what's going on? Please tell me."

Kanda didn't reply for he used his thumb to wipe off the specks of tears that had trailed down his cheeks. He smiled soothingly, his pliant lips widening a little at the sides. "Don't cry, Moyashi." He couldn't bear to watch Allen cry for him - over him – as his heart throbbed with hurt as though it was smashed to smithereens. No, that feeling itself was an understatement. It was far worst. The excruciating pain seemed to sore through his veins – tearing up his insides and shredding his heart out from its place.

Allen shook his head vigorously, nuzzling his face deeper into his chest and tightening his grip around Kanda's body. "I know something's wrong." He cried. "Please don't leave me, Kanda. Please don't…" Dread was washing over him like a crescendo of bottled up terror. He cried, not because he was weak nor was it because he was afraid. It was a feeling that he was about to lose someone so dear to his heart….

Kanda.

"Hush, Moyashi." Kanda said in a gentle tone, caressing his cheeks tenderly as though consoling a little child. "My heart aches when you cry…" His voice was barely a whisper…it trailed off weakly and muted into the silent room. "I love you, Allen..."

"Kanda…please don't. Please don't go…"

There was nothing else to be said. There was nothing else to be heard. All was silent. Allen pulled his face next to Kanda's neck, struggling not to cry.

How I wish I could hold you in my arms and stay with you forever…seeing you smile, laugh and look at me so intently with those eyes…I wouldn't have it any other way.

I love you, Allen and I'll always be by your side.