This is a new story I promised. I don't want to make it as long as "Pack before you leave"…About four chapters and done…

_________________Tale of the Roadkill____________________________

Traffic. He hated traffic. The damn traffic… Kanda cursed, gritting his teeth. The driver in front of him started yelling obscenities, with a firm belief that his actions will make the whole world a better place. Dolt. Kanda's car was successfully jammed between muddy truck and a crap colored van. Even if he wanted he could not move. Bastards.

He desperately wanted to get home, to drink green tea and get into the shower. He just won one of the hardest cases two days ago, creating a steady supply of clients. Kanda hatefully spat on the pavement through the window. Those bastards. They didn't plan to stay here all night, did they? He imagined his apartment, small and cozy, on the fourteenth floor. Physically, it was the thirteenth, but stupid superstitious people changed the numbers. Tch. How foolish.

Gradually, the colon of cursing machines and humanoids moved, at ant's pace. Kanda sighed, relieved. Those mediocre bastards. They could do it if they wanted. The screaming man in the front was skipping lights, shaking his long, red hair. Stupid punk. He would surely sue him and win, just for the sake of pissing him off. Tch. The redhead stopped brusquely, finally giving Kanda the chance to pass through. He did not refuse the invitation. Flooring the pedal, the car bit the road with ferocity. The twilight was wandering in the air, covering Kanda's eyes, as if that was a joke full of humor and wit. Damn day. It became too dark to drive. Tch. The car lights licked the highway, brightening it just for a moment then abandoned the spot, like a forgotten prostitute.

Tch. It was ten already. He groaned, thinking about tomorrow's day. He hated weekends. They were hollow like dried pumpkins. He remembered those days best, because nothing happened inside them, ever. He did not let anything happen.

Kanda liked his job. It physically and mentally exhausted him, leaving him in bed with tiredness sleeping on his chest. Saturdays were empty. There were no obligations, no rules how he must spend the damn time, tiring his soul. The weekends left him sleepless, swearing and rolling on the bed, feeling killer bees munching his heels. Damn weekends.

The car engulfed the road with a monotony that made the atoms fall asleep and die. Kanda yawned letting go of the wheel, covering his drowsy eyes. The next second he was smooching the front window as the air bag slowly deflated, leaving its previous shape and turning into a ghost suit. Kanda swore with ardor, cradling his head and jaw. He hit something, he knew it. It has to be a deer, or a raccoon or a.. a cow.

There is no way. No fucking way. A person rested next to the car as in deep sleep. But dreams don't flow out in red sparkling puddles. Great. Just freaking great. Now he was stuck in the middle of the empty road with a corpse on his hands. Tch. What would normal people do? Panic, cry, curse and call an ambulance if they knew the number. The police would come too, like a curious maniac, snooping around for information. Tch. He needed to call the ambulance and the police. As for the rest of the list—forget it. Panic attacks were evading him since he was born. The last time he cried was… hn, never.

He dived into the crippled car, reaching for a phone. The battery was dead. He furiously banged the damned thing on the road, jumping to vent his anger. Damn. This was the worst. His head felt light. Damn. He felt a strange creepy sensation on his neck. Tch. Blood. So he got hurt too. He smirked, amused at his black humor. He just killed a man and he was smiling. Gh, he was seriously wacked.

It wasn't a man or a woman. It was a freakish kid. By freakish he meant bizarre, odd, creepy, strange. White hair. Tattered clothing, most likely a tramp. Pale. Too pale. Seems to be sixteen, hardly older. His right hand was caught under the car and obscured by the fumes. Kanda held his breath in a hopeless attempt of leaving out the smell of dirty clothing, gas, and blood. He touched the kid's neck, searching for the pulse. Nothing. Just a greasy skin and sticky blood. Damnation. This is going to be trouble. He reached under the wreaked car trying to pull the corpse's hand out. Crap, how disgusting. The cadaver's skin fell off, exposing his palm to juicy meat. Kanda frowned, gulping. This was going to be hard. He stared at the phone. The jinxed item glinted ominously. Now of all times, when it could not be held, it rang. Shrilly like a banshee, it cackled vengefully in Kanda's face. The lawyer stomped on it with all his might.

He stopped killing the phone when some car lights hit him directly in his eyes. The automobile screeched stopping abruptly and letting a person out.

"Yuu-chan?!? Is tha' you?!? What the hell happened?!?" A redheaded young and well built young man bulged his only eye incredulously. Kanda sighed in relief. This was his only frie-no, it was the only person who could endure his temper.

"Come here, idiot. I had an accident. I need your car."

"Kanda, did you hit a kid?!" His voice was still, face growing livid. "You hit a kid." This was a statement, not a question. Lavi raised his eye(s). His face was serious, a sight rarely seen and officially registered as a myth.

"Kanda, why didn't you call the police?" Instead of answering Kanda pointed to the ground where his cell was resting in pieces. Lavi smiled relieved. He started rumbling in his pockets.

"What are you doing, Rabbit?"

"Jus' searchin' fer a phone, ya know!" He found it, radiating. Then frowned and put it away. Kanda raised a brow.

"Just get in the car, Yuu-chan. I'll get you to a hospital. A, I know we can't move 'im, but hey, we can't jus' leave 'im here, can we?" Kanda opened the red door. That rabbit sure liked bright, strident colors. Hn. His head started throbbing, leaving the shock phase behind. He got into the front sit, shutting up Metallica. He felt the back door opening. Lavi put the dead kid inside, careful not to bend him somehow unnaturally. He gagged at the smell of blood.

"He, Yuu-chan, How could ya run 'im over like this? I mean, 'e looks like roadkill…"


The night was peaceful for normal people who did not have accidents. They were probably sleeping by now. Kanda groaned, the head heavy as if it had metal poured inside. Hot one too. Gah….

Suddenly Lavi stopped the car. He held a finger up to his lip, an international sign for 'shush.' Both men stared into the back seat, as if a tooth fairy were to appear. The corpse shivered slightly. Lavi paled.

"Gh-gh-ghost-t. It's a g-g-ghost…" Kanda stared incredulously. The man next to him was shaking.

"N-no i-i-diot, i-i-I t-think he's c-conscious…"


Beep. beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep.

"JUST TURN THE DAMN THING OFF! IT SO DAMN ANNOYING!" The nurse gaped at Kanda, amazed by his legendary bad temper and apparent stupidity.

"I-I can't Kanda-san! It supports the life of a patient!"

The man sat on the bed, twitching. It hurt. His head was full of hot sand. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Kanda squinted his eyes, trying not to hear to the exasperating …Beep. Beep. Beep. That's it. THAT'S IT. He jumped to the curtain, ripping it away. His claws reached murderously to the poor machine, certain to end its existence. The nurse grabbed him by the waist, trying to prevent murder. She sighed relieved when the young man stiffed.

"Nurse. What is this thing?" He was pointing to a lump of cotton that was glued to a head and face covered by the white cover.

"Sir? This is the young man you brought to the hospital! Poor child! He lost a lot of blood.." The nurse shook her ample frame, trying to look regretful. Tch. His Rolex was touching the one o'clock number, pointing it to Kanda as if the man were blind.

This was going to be a long night.


Huh. Strange. This is not going where I want. Hn If you thing this is a complete and utter crap, tell me via reviews.

If it's not, well…tell me via reviews.