A random drabble that wouldn't leave me alone. It's angst, a look into Allen's dealing with the Noah, and Kanda subtly supporting him. It's a different style of writing then I'm used too. Not romance, unless you see it that way. I support Kanda/Allen, but I don't write romance very well, so I wrote this as simply camaraderie. It's up to you how you view it. It might be a bit OOC, but not to bad. Storyline wise, it's sometime after the attack on HQ, but before Cross was assumed dead. I haven't completely finished the manga, so if something is out of place, ignore it? And point it out just for future reference? Anyways, enjoy. Leave a review? :)

As long as he felt pain, he was alive. As long as he bled, he existed.
[but for how long?]

physical. mental.


He could feel the bruise before he saw it. He could easily imagine the bluish-purple tinge assaulting his pale skin, growing in size as it spread to the infected areas that were hit with the blow. He could feel the rain droplets, dancing, running, slipping down his face, trailing from his too-white hair, falling in his too-pale eyes. It was painful –

But it proved he was alive.

Allen watched as Kanda delivered the final blow to the weapon of evil, and he watched through his cursed eye as the soul bound with chains was freed and cried out thank you and it left Allen lethargic. Looking down, he could see blood pool around his knees, and it was only then that he realized what position he was in and why he was in it, because memories don't disappear right after they happen. He could still see the attack, the quick cut across his chest and it was everywhere, and it left blood racing down and down and down until it reached the concrete, and it gathered in droplets and melted with the rain water. There was so much blood –

But it proved he existed.

And as exist passed through his mind like a whisper in the dark, he couldn't stop himself from wondering how long. After all, wasn't it only a matter of time until the Fourteenth took over? And it led his thoughts onto a path, up until it reached the crossroad of what would happen. Normally, his thoughts would caress him, suffocate him, destroy him –

"Stand up."

Simple words. It broke the train of thought, however. But he did what he was told, almost mechanically, one knee up, push off the ground with hand, lift other leg and place on ground. He was standing, dizzy, but standing.

"Let's go."

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, balancing him, keeping him on one path only – to return.

And Allen followed Kanda straight to the hospital.


"He'll be alright, but it was a nasty wound."

Allen could hear the voices – Komui? – and he tried to open his eyes, blinking against the light as it invaded his pupils. He heard a moan, and he realized a second later it was him, and he was in pain as the stinging in his chest grew –

He was alive.

Sitting up carefully, but then hands surrounded him, helping him, keeping him up like he felt he didn't deserve. Cries of his name, happy, relieved – and when he looked down, he could see the sticky red substance cling to the material of the bandages –

He still existed.

The lights were so bright, due to the lack of light outside as night was cast over, the city in darkness, and the memories of what had happened crashed down on him and he the first word he spoke was unfamiliar –


And, without moving, Kanda was in front of him, stoic expression and impassive body stance familiar. Allen smiled, relieved, that his partner and comrade was still alive after the level four akuma, but then Kanda spoke as well, almost as if he had read Allen's thoughts –

"You're lucky to be alive. Don't fucking do that again."

And he walked away.

And Allen fell into unconsciousness.


A few days was all it took before he promptly argued that he could go for a walk. Komui was reluctant, but let him walk to the cafeteria with Lavi and Lenalee, agreeing on the terms that he'd have to return straight away. The walk was painful – pain? –

But he was still alive.

He ate, smiled – was it fake? He couldn't tell anymore – and laughed – hollow… - and then assured he was fine to get back on his own. His comrades agreed, and Link was already waiting for him upstairs to continue his report and maybe he was a traitor? He couldn't be.

But as he passed the dark window, his reflection staring back at him, he saw him.

The shadow, the clear outline of a figure in black and a familiar smile, familiar shape, and Mana, I miss you. The words he once held dear felt as if they were losing feeling, meaning – he kept walking, but for what? He'd end up soulless in the end, but he'd keep walking, but he was so tired. Sighing soundlessly, Allen traced the curse down from his eye, following every curve and every mark on his pale face. It left behind a trail of blood, the droplets gathering at the cut of the skin –

But he still existed.

"You're going to get an earful."

Allen glanced to his right, not really seeing. Kanda was there, face as stoic as ever, impassive, and Allen smiled.

"I'm fine."

And he continued walking.

And Kanda hated that smile.


Days passed, the minutes counting his very life as a never ending circle.

He finally was able to leave the infirmary, but he ate less and less and his friends grew more worried everyday. Kanda said nothing, and Allen felt out of place, like something was missing, or maybe he was just finally going crazy. Link pointed out that he seemed more depressed, but Allen just smiled and shook his head, I'm fine, really, don't worry, and acted like nothing was wrong – nothing was wrong, because if I admit that, I'm admitting defeat –

And it hurt. In a mental sense, because physical pain was nothing new.

But I'm still alive.

Then Kanda would give him that look, the samurai glaring at him, trying to figure him out and see past the fake smile and figure out what went on in his head. But Allen wouldn't have it, smiling wider, laughing louder, sleeping less. They could see the bags under his eyes, the truth behind the nightmares that they knew nothing about, and the blood shot eyes that seemed to mock whoever looked into them.

I still exist.

And Allen would just keep smiling. Because that was what he did, no matter how tired his cheeks were from the stretching, no matter how hard it got to continue with the façade.

And Kanda hated it.


The final day, Kanda snapped.

Allen was no where to be found. Link kept asking, afraid of failing his duty, but the exorcists' friends all knew, that even if they knew where Allen had gone, they wouldn't have told Link.

"It'll be good for him to be alone for a bit."

Kanda shook his head – he knew where the exorcist was. Couldn't anyone hear the melody? The sad, sad, melody that seemed to echo in the night? It had only been two days since he had been hiding, but Kanda knew where he was.

The piano room.

Despite the hauntingly white walls, the room that reminded him of exactly what being able to play the piano and read the notes meant, he still found comfort in that room. He could be alone.

That was what counted, what mattered.

And as the fight with the akuma played over in his mind, he finally realized what Kanda had meant by don't fucking do that again. It wasn't Allen's fault for taking the hit – if Kanda were to get hit, he would have died. Allen had taken most of the hit which wasn't as deadly, and he wasn't sure why that was, but it was, and they were both safe. He closed his eyes, breathing in the empty scent as he rested his head on his knees.

It hurt mentally – he was alive.

But am I? I'm alive?

Although Allen had not expected the door to slam open, nor the footsteps to grow increasingly louder, he still did not raise his head. It was only when he felt a presence looming over him did he look up, his eyes tired and begging for rest.

"When did you last sleep?"


"Answer me."

And in that instant, Allen realized something.

Kanda hadn't called him 'bean sprout' or 'moyashi' in almost a week.

"I don't know."

A slap across the face, and Allen swore he could feel the blood rush to the area of impact.

I guess I still exist.

He tenderly touched his cheek, looking up at Kanda.

"Sleep. I don't care if it's in here. I don't care if it's outside your fucking door. But everyone's worried, so stop being an idiot – if that's possible."

And without another word, he left.

And Allen stared at the door wordlessly, motionless, Timcanpy buzzing around his head.

And then he went to bed, ignoring Link as he finally found who he was supposed to be watching.


When Cross and Klaud had spoken to him, trying to get him to cheer up, Allen had smiled gratefully and assured them he was fine.

They didn't believe him, but they left it at that.

When Lenalee and Lavi had asked him how his wounds were doing, Allen had smiled and assured them he was fine.

They sighed.

Kanda didn't say anything, but Allen knew he secretly cared, if only a little.

So Allen found him later that day, sitting by himself in the library, looking off into the distance, out the window where the rain was pounding with a force and the lightning was lighting up the sky with brilliancy. He waited a few moments, considering whether it was a good idea to sit with him or not. He decided when Kanda looked over, muttered tch under his breath, and looked away expectantly. Allen joined him, his body shivering from the unexpected cold of the glass. Kanda tossed him his uniform jacket, and Allen muttered a thank you while Kanda muttered whatever. But then Allen looked into the glass, and the reflection was back, becoming clearer as the face became more like the brother of his father and his uncle – and Allen felt his chest tighten. Kanda glanced over.

"Does it hurt?"

Allen nodded absentmindedly. It did hurt – his heart hurt. Was it really his fate that he couldn't change?

"You're alive."

And then Kanda stood up and sat beside him, looking into the glass as if trying to see what Allen was seeing. And then Kanda spoke, almost gentle, and it shocked Allen more then words could express –

"Tell him to go away."

Allen blinked.

And blinked again.

"You heard me."

Allen almost smiled, his lips twitching. Looking back in the glass, his reflection grew slightly smaller, and Allen's eyes widened.


Kanda grabbed his arm, running a nail across the delicate skin.

"You bleed. You still exist. Understand?"

Allen nodded.

"Now stop fucking moping and go see Komui. We have a mission."

And Allen smiled for the first time. Kanda smirked.

"That's more like it."