Lol, wut is with that Käse-y summary?

Disclaimer: If I owned -Man, it would be full of random bursts of imagination, and then it would--

There was very little Kanda remembered about his past. It was all a blur--he'd never stored much information as a child, not thinking he'd ever need it for future reference.

He remembered his mother.

She wasn't beautiful, and she wasn't Japanese. They lived in a remote place in Japan, though Kanda never thought hard about the fact of his mother living somewhere she technically didn't belong. He was often told by the neighbors, "He looks just like his father!"

His mother would say nothing.

He had never met his father, or if he did he had no recollection of him. All he needed was to look in the mirror, and that was an impression enough of who his father was. His mother never mentioned his father. If she loathed the sight of him, Kanda knew not of it. She would stroke his hair and smile, staring into his eyes with all of the love she had.

Not many visitors were seen at his home. One woman would come sporadically. His mother seemed neither happy nor angry during the visits, but somehow placated, and so Kanda didn't mind the woman that came to their home, however stupid and loud she was.

Kanda's mother was the only person he loved, though not in the traditional sense. He never told her 'I love you', and she never said the same to him. It was more a mutual understanding. She would smile when she saw him and he would always thank her for the meal. Since then, Kanda has never been able to describe the feeling as anything other than by just looking at someone and knowing it was love.

She didn't smile much, and on rarer occasion laughed, so he was used to silence.

She loved tempura and would experiment with it in many ways. His favorite try was tempura soba.

She never wasted breath with pointless conversation, and so Kanda learned only to speak honestly and sincerely.

She died in Kanda's arms, and Kanda learned dying was easy and painful.

Kanda didn't think of his mother--he wasn't brought up to be sentimental for no purpose--but he would always remember her. He would remember her when there was silence but never think of her. He would remember her when he ate tempura soba, but would never think of her. He would remember her through everything he did, but would never think of her.

He would remember her because she was his beginning, he would never think of her because she was irrelevant. The last day of her life was the last day of his, and on the first day of his death she wasn't present.

His life was hers, his existence was his own.

And so, though she was perfectly irrelevant to him now, he would always remember the influence his mother had over him.

Probably because he was the one who had killed her.

---Freakingcage7 quite possibly presents,

Polar, a Yullen fanfiction

Kanda licked his lips, tasting the salty and dry texture. He frowned and stood, berating the weather in a moment of annoyance and then turning to his project. The young girl lay nearly bare before him, curled on the ground in fear, shivering despite the warm air around her. Tears rolled from her red eyes to the sand and her irises looked up at him, begging.


Kanda made no sound as he took his sword and removed her head from her body. The only noise to be heard was the ocean breeze, his sword hardly daring to breathe as it was brought back into its sheath. Kanda took the head and threw it into the ocean, not caring that it would most likely only be brought to shore again. The open eyes stared at him as it flew, cursing him with glassy eyes that matched the sea before him.

Too late, he said with a shrug.

He took a bottle from his sack, and grabbed the neck of the woman's body. He took a few moments to drain the blood, looking at his surroundings as he did so. No one was around, so he wasn't in the slightest concerned or alert. The sand rushed into the air at the next strong breeze, and Kanda frowned, seeing some specks fly into the jar of blood.

That wouldn't taste good.

Kanda mentally rolled his eyes, and then dropped the body when his task was completed. He brought out a few more jars and repeated the motion of draining her blood. When all of his jars were full, he thought about throwing the body into the ocean as well, but decided against it. He didn't particularly feel like dragging something so heavy for no real purpose. No one would find out what he'd done, the body would most likely be disposed of within the hour.

Out of respect, Kanda said a short prayer to the spirit of the girl, wishing her better luck in her next life, or better yet, no next life.

It was all such an annoyance.

He packed his jars and walked away from the beach, on his way to the small room he'd rented on the fifth floor of a three star hotel. He'd leave in two days, seeing some sights before his trip home. He absently admired the whiteness of the sandy beach. The moon shone brightly and seemed to shine brighter because of the dark sky in comparison. It seemed peculiar that two opposites needed each other to really make the most of their existences, but this is not what Kanda thought.

Kanda thought about the jars, and the sand that had spoiled a good meal.


Kanda peeked over the rims of his sunglasses and scoffed.

Whoever called this place paradise was an idiot.

The sun was too hot, the water too dirty, and the people...ugh. Kanda hated people who smiled, much less smiled for a living. All the inhabitants were dirt poor, yet every single lazy jackass managed to piss Kanda off all the more by not even caring. What kind of person went around without a shower for a week? No one Kanda wanted to make an acquaintance with, not even to be within shouting distance.

He dropped his bag at his feet and stretched his arms above his head, getting ready for the 5 hour flight back to Atlanta. He didn't know why he had to take a commercial flight, with these grunting farting common folk, but it was so, and Kanda knew a lost argument when one presented itself. Japan Tobacco Company, or JTC, was running low on funds ever since the huge strike against their business. Therefore, Kanda wasn't getting his own plane any time soon.

Kanda was the perfect business associate. He was the perfect guy to close a deal, usually because he intimidated the hell out of anyone who thought about backing out. He may not be Mr. Personality, but you don't have to be to get someone to sign a piece of paper.

All Kanda needed was a glare and a grunt.

And as of right now, Kanda was dishing plenty of those out. All around him were pink tourists who insisted khaki shorts were a must in 80+ degree weather and Hawaiian shirts, though they were at least 4,000 miles away from said location. Kanda threw his shoulders back and planted his hands in his pockets, right foot on the handle of his carry-on bag just to make sure no one got any ideas about rushing up and stealing it. He needn't have bothered however, since everyone was keeping a nice 5 foot radius around him. Whether it was from his intimidating good looks or intense glare, Kanda didn't care.

As long as the job got done, Kanda never cared.

"All First Class passengers for Flight 456 to Atlanta Georgia, please line up." The woman with too thick eye makeup and the wrong color concealer continued to repeat this in her too flat voice for another three times. Too many, in Kanda's opinion. He lined up and made sure to shove the 40-year-old dad that had knocked his elbow with his camera away from him. The man settled with a harsh stare followed by an awkward shuffle, away from Kanda.

Kanda shoved an mp3 player in his ears and let the music lead him through. He looked at the smiling faces and the directed hands, and scoffed--it all made no difference with sound or without. Sometimes Kanda wished he could go deaf, just to see if it would really be so horrible. He didn't care about sentimental shit like birds chirping or the waves of the ocean. If it meant he could get rid of the annoying grading of high pitched overly-polite voices out of his mind, Kanda thought be would gladly give up his morning wake up call in return.

He boarded the plane and immediately closed his eyes as he sat down. He ignored anyone who bumped into him, and the stewardesses left him well enough alone. Kanda zoned out for five hours, and came off the plane in Atlanta feeling exactly the same as when he'd left Jamaica.

Hot and bothered, in a completely non-sexual way.

He grabbed his bag tighter and walked brisk long steps to the exit. He would have been grateful for his disciplined self and the fact he could bring only one satchel for one week and be as clean as if he'd brought two full suitcases, but Kanda wasn't one to be grateful for something that was natural. It was all on his own, and he expected it of himself--no need to give himself any kudos for something that required no effort.

He hailed the first taxi he saw by stepping out in the road to stop it. The wheels screeched a bit, and the driver didn't look all too happy, but Kanda climbed in the back seat quickly and everything set into place.

"Where to my friend?" asked the driver.

Kanda held back a nasty remark in response to the driver's over-familiarity and replied a curt, "Noah's Ark."

The driver gave a low whistle and a smile, looking over Kanda once more.

"Sure thing boss." With that, he swerved into the left lane and headed off to the most prestigious hotel in the southern region of North America.


Tyki Mick smiled as he graced his finger around the wine glass, happy for the invention of Mimosas so he was able to have alcohol so early in the morning with a valid excuse.

"Tyki, let's go to the pool today." his sister said, leaning on her hands and swinging her feet below the table. Tyki could tell this because his drink was rocking back and forth like a pendulum.

"Hmm? You feel like swimming today?" he asked, still smiling and eyes cracked open slightly.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her spiky hair. "No. I just want to go." Tyki sighed a laugh and leaned back into his seat, ignoring the rest of his drink.

"Alright. But I'm dressing myself this time." he chided. Rhode stuck her tongue at him and let her eyes wander across the room, a frown growing over her face as she looked at the sweaty tourists, though it was only eight in the morning. If they didn't wear that god-awful polyester they wouldn't be so dirty already, she lectured them in her mind. Absent-mindedly she smoothed out her short skirt and placed her head on the table, sighing dismally.

Even with Tyki, Atlanta was boring as hell.

Tyki was polishing his pocket watch and Rhode was wondering who she would 'accidentally' cause to tip their tray--that girl in the back with that awful olive colored skirt would do nicely--when Rhode's countenance rose.

Tyki didn't notice immediately, wondering if it would be too much to order another Mimosa to go. Her head rose and her feet tapped on the ground, heels hitting the floor like a mouse trap. Tyki looked at her with expectant eyes, but she didn't look to him to confirm her new sighting.

She didn't need confirmation for this one.

"That Tyki. Let's do that today." she grinned, and Tyki followed her gaze.

Yes, he agreed. That would do nicely.


Allen Walker loved the sun.

There it was, high in the sky, so happy and bright and...sunny. He mentally shook his head, tossing away the fact he couldn't seem to think of a better term for the sun than its own uncreative adjective and headed to the counter of the reception desk.

"Hello sir!" Allen smiled happily to the man.

The man smiled back amiably, not missing a beat. "Good Morning sir! Are you here to check in?"

"Yes I am. I'm also looking for someone--A Mr. Marian Cross?"

The man nodded and typed quickly into the sleek Mak computer before him. "Ah yes, it seems he just left yesterday evening. But there is a note from him saying--"

Allen's smile dropped. "You don't need to finish that sentence." he replied glumly.

The man laughed nervously, double checked the number and cried for the man inside his heart of hearts. However, it wasn't his business, much less his problem, so he continued to go about his own job.

"Yes sir. Your room is on the twelfth floor, number 5. Would you like a spare key?" he asked helpfully.

"Um...yes, I think that would be best." Allen gave a small chuckle and ran his gloved hand through his long white hair. "Can I pay for the room only now?"

"Room or rooms?"

"...How many rooms?"

"Seven, sir."

Allen sighed. "Just mine for now please." The man behind the counter, or Bill, as his name tag so helpfully told Allen, nodded and told him the bill. Allen dropped his bag and took out his wallet. He paid in cash, something that made Bill feel less sorry for Allen and not think so much of the bill his friend had left for him.

"Thank you sir, now here're your keys, the elevators are to your right and have a wonderful stay at Noah's Ark!"

"Thank you very much!" Allen gave a small nod and a wave and left Bill to wonder about the polite strange stranger that was on the twelfth floor in room number five.

Allen gave a happy sigh and made his way to the elevator. He made small talk to the bellhop and kindly refused the offered help of his small bag. Allen was going to need to save all the money he had for Cross's bill.

He brought out his key and turned the knob, off-handedly admiring the hallway for its space and decor. Just as he was entering his own door, he caught a glimpse of another man heading his way from the second elevator. The man whisked past him and took out his own key to enter the third room, right next to Allen's.

"Hello." he said politely, smiling at the tall stranger.

"Hmph." came the terse reply, and another moment later, the man was inside his room with a slam of his door. Allen's eyebrow twitched, but ignored the incident. Maybe the man didn't like the British. Allen quickly forgot about it all with one look at his room. The walls were twice his size--though, in others' opinions wasn't saying much, to Allen's displeasure-- and everything seemed to have an indescribable elegance to them. Light sea-foam colors and spacious architectural planning made the place welcome to Allen, almost as if it fit him like a glove with the small details of the bed placement, down to the small chiselings on the vanity.

For the umpteenth time, Allen gave a happy sigh, and was so happy to be in Atlanta.


For the umpteenth time, Kanda gave an annoyed sigh, and cursed anyone dealing with the matter for his forced stay in Atlanta.

Kanda was happy to be busy, and didn't mind these little missions he was ordered to go on every once in awhile, but when they involved stuffy smelly places right under the boiling sun, he did mind.

While Kanda was pleased--not happy, never really happy--that he would be performing his task under the nose of that sniveling power-mongering Noah Family, he did not like the prospects of having someone come along with him, much less bringing someone home with him.

Just a few weeks ago, another discovery was made in the world of the supernatural. Someone very rare indeed, a type of sprite--an unknown and unheard of species really in these times, most having been killed long ago for their good hearts and human-fearing abilities--that was out in the world without a clue of the Dark Order Organization.

The Dark Order Organization sounded like a wonderful idea. It was a group for the sake of the supernatural, to keep them safe from the world and the world safe from them. It was a wonderful idea, until one visited the Organization. The opposites of species could never seem to get along: the vampires were forever at ends with their noisy werewolf counterparts, the witches hated the fairies and the fairies shared this malevolence, and so many other demons just hated each other along with everyone else.

Very few humans worked within the Organization, and usually had some sort of connection to the supernatural, be it a mother, sister, lover or cousin. They had small jobs, though not insignificant. Oftentimes they were assigned with tabloid control, getting in on newspapers and steering them in the wrong direction of the supernatural realities and races. Others had communication jobs in the Alt Kulturen Division (also referred to as the 'Ack' division)--translating old supernatural languages and transcribing them to top secret documents, and there were a few other special small divisions relating to this. Some had relocation and location positions from the Direct Demon Resources Division (also fondly called DDR)--requiring the humans to match up the supernaturals to jobs, if indeed the supernatural being wasn't able to acquire one for themselves.

Lastly was the Science and Technology Division (or STD), focused on genetic ability and disease control. Their aim was to make sure the ability of every supernatural being was known and controlled and that they didn't get any diseases from their occasional intimate interaction with humans--i.e., the vampires didn't wind up with AIDS. It was headed by the infamous Komui Lee, who was known for his rather unorthodox methods, horrible surgical techniques, lack of overtime pay, tendency to procrastination, but mostly, his sister complex.

His beautiful younger sister, Linali Lee was well known and loved around the Dark Order. She was often the one to remember a coworker's birthday or anniversary, and always the one with the endless supply of wonderful and much-needed coffee. She herself was a witch, and though Komui was human, no one really questioned why he was there as the head honcho when there could have easily been a supernatural being in the position who would cause remarkably much less trouble for them. Komui was there for Linali, and that was all they needed to know.

One of Komui's leading jobs was to make sure every supernatural being was accounted for, and so, on these rare occasions when one was born, or rarer when one was discovered after their birth, there would be a mission assigned the the elite of the Dark Order, called the Innocence Conformers or more colloquially Exorcists, of which Kanda was a leading member.

One more supernatural being had been discovered and was to be recovered within three days, and then brought back to Germany, Headquarters location.

Kanda was chosen for the job, and so here was Kanda now, displeased and grunting in the World Acclaimed Noah's Ark Hotel in Atlanta, Georgia.

Kanda went over the description of the supernatural again, and smirked. Seems like this job would be easier than he'd anticipated.


A/N: Hmm, I felt like writing something angsty and cliché, with some nice Yullen and Lavali in it. This probably won't go anywhere, but I'll consider it more if you like it and drop a review.

And yes, Allen is going to have long hair, because I saw him with long hair in the zombie chapters and fell in love. Maybe he'll end up cutting it, maybe not. I guess I just have a thing for guys with long hair....

I wonder what Lavi would look like with long hair...?

Also, I type Linali like so because I find it easier to type. So if that bugs you, get over it, Lenalee, Linali, Rinali, Rinari, etc, I prefer Linali. If any of this is confusing, don't hesitate to ask; hopefully if I write further chapters, the whole organization will be explained better.