Theme: Steam

Translation: I went through a million things before finally deciding to throw myself a bone and give myself something easy. Sorry, but I'm tuckered out for cleverness. So 'steam' is meant to be a theme for consciousness--apparent and slipping away. Lame, I know. Hope this is satisfactory.

Disclaimer: I hardly own a brain, what makes you think -Man is a priority?


It was well known that Allen was a gentleman. He was polite and sincere, kind and courageous, and if anyone were to ask what his faults were they'd receive no reply.

Or perhaps a slap to the cheek.

Allen went out of his way to help you. Allen gave you encouragement with a mature sense of understanding. Allen protected you, Allen loved you for who you were, and Allen was perfect.

That was exactly the reason he fell in love with Kanda.

Kanda was an ass. He didn't give a damn about what you were thinking, feeling or wanting, and he certainly never asked questions. He never received answers through patience, he received them through force and sheer terror.

Allen envied the crap out of Kanda.

Kanda was blunt and honest to the point of cruelty and Allen couldn't even admit to himself that he was obsessed with it. Everything that came from Kanda's mouth was brutal and tasteless and it made Allen shiver with rage and relief. Kanda said the things that needed to be said and left. Allen was always left to pick up the pieces and mold them back together.

Everyone wanted Allen to be their hero, thinking of him as God's Angel sent from above to rescue them. Allen had no conscience--he was their conscience. But where Allen was their conscience, he needed something of support as well. He needed something sturdy and straightforward, leading him on when one simple wishful phrase of, "Keep walking forward" didn't make the cut.

He needed a force stronger, something sharper, a will that was so much purer than his own. His own soul was dirtied with doubt, weakness and convoluted reasoning. His opinions were no longer his own--they were merely concerns for those around him.

I should order more dango--Jerry loves making dango.

I should train harder--they're counting on me.

I need to walk my own path--for...for....

Allen had lost himself.

He had lost reason to be there, helping his comrades and saving the humans from the akuma--no, for Mana and to make him proud--

--No, to keep his new family together--

--No, to--to--

Allen could hardly think anymore.

Kanda always knew what to think. He always knew what to do. At the same time, Allen wanted to hold him and slam his head against the wall.

He wanted to be Kanda. The love he had nestled in his chest as an admiration turned to an outright worship. He began to hate Kanda.

Kanda's being a jackass again--better go put him in line.

Allen made a hobby out of 'straightening up' Kanda. Whatever words that came out at a certain pitch, Allen would find himself at Kanda's side to put his hand on his shoulder and prevent him from saying anything more.

Because it hurt--hearing the truth.

Allen loved honesty and hated it with all his soul. It was the world to him and it caused it to be crushed every time it reared its ugly head.

How had Kanda controlled the beast? How had he overcome his fear of hypocrisy, pain and disgrace?

Allen's head would throb with uncertainty whenever he thought about Kanda--just when his face came to mind--it would be hazy and hardly feasible. The answer to Allen's questions was there--all in that conveniently stoic beautiful package--but he could never grasp it.

It was like steam--scalding and suffocating while it cleansed your body of impurities.

Kanda was Allen's sauna. He never smiled--because the world is terrible--and he never loved--because it comes and goes too swiftly anyways--and never ever would Kanda comfort--because it's all stupid anyway.

And so Allen pined for Kanda.

Kanda had the strong chest Allen would just want to bury himself in when he was feeling sad. He would want to shut his eyes to the world and breathe in the scent of lotus, soba and low-grade soap, forgetting about everything except the perfectness of this one person. The one person God had gotten right, the one person that held his self as the primary thing. Kanda was the one being that spoke the truth as well as knew the truth.

Kanda was perfect.

It wasn't a lustful love that caused him to ache and moan in his sleep; it was so much worse. It was a love that challenged Allen's entire being by staying apart from, yet with, him. The love tore at him from the inside, telling him to do one thing when he knew very well he could never do anything about it. His heart would pang when the exorcist would walk in the room and stop when he left--as if his soul had been taken along with him.

But Allen had to hide his feelings.

Ever since the finding out of the Fourteenth, Kanda knew just how insignificant and worthless Allen was. Allen had to fight it doing the only thing he knew how--turn and walk the other way. He was walking, still walking that endless road for that certain reason he could never grasp, and that was all he knew.

He knew it would do something important.

He knew it would eventually bring him and Kanda together.

Why?

...Allen didn't know.

All he knew was that he must keep smiling and that he must keep walking.

Allen loved Kanda, and so he was polite and sincere, kind and courageous, and made sure if anyone were to ask what his faults were they'd receive no reply.

Or perhaps a slap to the cheek.

Allen loved Kanda because Allen was a gentleman. Allen went out of his way to help others, and he gave encouragement with a mature sense of understanding. Allen protected others, and he loved one for who one was, all to become perfect.

Because perfection was the only way to be close to Kanda.


A/N:.........Don't look at me--I don't get it either.

I'd appreciate all the hard-ass criticism you can give. Don't worry--I thrive under criticism, so be mean. :)

....LAWL, Jurassic Park. Funniest movie ever. Cruuuuu??