Fic: "Masks" (Short Fiction Moments I )
Focus on: Kanda Yuu. Allen Walker
Warnings: none too obvious
Summary: "Kanda's wound is the testimony of a gut reaction. An instinctive move. A crack in the mask."
"Useless morons" –Kanda spits the words, expression openly displaying his contempt –"Your work was simply keeping track of the fragment, not let it go missing in the explosion. Idiots"
His head is held high, one of his hands holds Mugen, the other is tightly pressed against the folds of his long coat.
After the set of scathing words, the Japanese exorcist whirls on his boots and briskly walks away.
Behind him, several Finders mutter obscenities and curse words, every one of them is meant for the teen, a shushed variant of their opinions on his horrible self.
From a far corner, Allen watches the scene. Two years ago, Allen would have intervened, would have demanded an apology from Kanda.
But nowadays, Allen has a better understanding of how things work in the Order. The English teen now knows that fewer Finders equal fewer deaths.
The white-haired teenager rounds the corner and continues through the adjacent hall, intentionally crossing ways with Kanda.
Without offering a word, Allen approaches and quickly grabs hold of one of Kanda's wrists, the wrist of the hand that is not holding Mugen.
Palm facing up, a wide angry cut is in open view.
Kanda growls in surprised anger at the breach of his personal space, and snatches back his arm with a snarl.
Both teens are silent and serious then. Both of them know that Kanda's hand is nearly cut in half as a result of the swordsman blocking an enemy attack with naked flesh.
Both of them know that Kanda's so-slowly-healing wound comes from protecting a Finder in the heat of the battle, in a moment when either lowering Mugen or lowering his empty hand would have ended in another death.
The wound is the testimony of a gut reaction. An instinctive move. A crack in the mask.
"Liar" –Allen barely murmurs the word.
With that word, with the meaning behind that reproach, flowers burst in Kanda's peripheral vision, shedding white petals like a mockery of a dance. And Kanda hates these moments in which one simple word, one simple look, spins everything out of control inside him.
However, the Japanese' dark eyes reveal nothing but cold disdain as he roughly pushes Allen away.
"The hell? Get lost, idiot"
Allen doesn't move to retaliate, he steps back and just shrugs his shoulders, and lets the other teen go. Years before, he would have pouted or complained, or he would have smiled with sick sweetness. But things are morphing into something different now. For him, and for the other presence of golden eyes.
Both exorcists step in opposite directions, without saying another word.
And crosses and flowers continue to erode their masks away.