I do not own the characters. Nor the computer.

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_____________________________Pack Before You Leave!________________

Komui looked at the exorcists in his office with despair. He gripped his Lenalee Cup. He could not endure this anymore. "Would you two cut it out? Do you want me to call Komurin #345? 'Cause I will, if you two don't stop…ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME, KANDA-KUN, ALLEN-KUN?!?"

Kanda let go of Allen and wiped his bleeding lip. "Che. He started it." "I DID NOT! HOW DEAR YOU BASTARD BLAME ME FOR YOUR OWN TROUBLES?" Allen's eye was colored by deep blue, turning to green ring. "Hn, my only trouble is your existence." A finder was holding down Allen from strangling Kanda.

"Please, you two, you have a mission together, now please leave! I have repeated you the details thrice. Now go, Italy is waiting for you!"

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The train was annoying. The people were annoying. Even the cup of tea Kanda was offered was annoying. It was lukewarm, like dog piss, and smelled as one too. Che. Kanda looked in front of him. Allen was nodding in rhythm with the iron wheels of the train. His head bounced up and down, like a ball on the waves, forgotten by some irresponsible kid. Kanda cheed again.

He did not like trains. They were dirty, pricey, and were not the most comfortable method of transportation. They were a moving garbage dump, where all kinds of people were recycled by class, money, and even smell. Now that Komui wasted money on stupid toys, the Order could only buy them third class tickets. They were the worst. Goats and sheep were dumped together with third rate people who smelled of garlic and unwashed feet. Che. Luckily, right now the train was almost empty. Only a stupid goat was mistaking an old fart's beard for grass.

Allen sighed in his sleep. He propped up his head against the trembling window and mumbled something. In the corner of his mouth, a thin thread of saliva was crawling down his chin. His face was mirrored in the dark train window. The stars gave away a sick, trembling light, as if they were ready to die.

Kanda felt tired, as if he lived seventy years plus a hundred. He felt old, worn out, like the mantle of the kid that was sleeping on the couch in front of him. Che, that brat. Couldn't he dress better? All his clothes were butchered by Time. Beside the short exorcist jacket, the kid wore outdated clothes, as if he had nothing else. Allen whimpered again. He shuffled his head, muttering louder. His face became pained, his body tightened and he curled into a ball. The whimpering did not cease, moreover, the boy started sniffling. Kanda woke up and stared curiously at the maggot. Che, having nightmares at this age? Hn, what a under grown (literally) brat. Maybe he had a cold. Or… flu…

Kanda was drifting off again. His chin touched the chest and he was sound asleep. He dreamed of olives. They were green, with small, black faces. They smiled and stuck their tongues out, infuriating him. "Bakandaaa! Bakandaa!" They were yelling. They even started to laugh in small annoying giggles. Stupid olives. Who the hell invented them? "Kanda, Kanda!" Che. How annoying. Kanda caught one of them in his palm. He started squishing it, feeling the Extra Virgin Olive Oil coming out. Heh, so THIS is how they make the stuff. Suddenly, a blow of an icy wind kissed his face. Kanda woke up, shuddering at the wind trapped in his clothes. In front of him, Allen stood frozen. "K-Kanda…The window…" Kanda looked at him with sleepy eyes.

"What do you want, Moyashi?"Allen ignored that, for the first time. He was curled up like a cat, glued to the couch. The window was open, letting the wind and the snowflakes in. "Can you close the window? I'm really cold…" Che, lazy bastard. "Can't you do it yourself? What am I, your slave or something? Dream on!" Allen did not respond. He sighed, got up and left the compartment designed for six people (and a goat).

Kanda blinked. That kid did not try to stab him with a glare, or a poisoned word, or a dagger. He did nothing. He ignored the fact that Kanda called him a bean sprout also. Definitely suspicious.

The samurai peeked outside. The brat was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it seemed that the door of the next compartment was open. The light peered through the old, cracked metallic door, carrying the smell of tobacco and wine outside. The cold air was pushed away by the miasma of the cheap perfume and stinky beards.

Kanda approached the door and opened it. Inside, bundles of people were cursing, playing cards, drinking cheap, smoky wine. The tobacco smell made Kanda sick. He covered his nose and searched with one eye for the maggot. He was there, smiling at a small Italian child with a pacifier in his mouth.

"Che bello ragazzo! E' il tuo figlio?" He addressed a big, voluptuous woman with ample bosom. She was holding the baby in her arms.

"Ah, signore, vorresti una coperta? Fa molto freddo!" She held a blanket. Kanda listened to foreign words, trying to understand what was going on. Allen accepted the blanket with a pleasant smile. He asked the woman something else. She joyfully approached her husband and reaped a deep blue, wool blanket off of him. Saying something fast, she gave both blankets to Allen.

Kanda cheed and entered his own compartment. He took a look at the window. It was jammed with two iron knobs, so that it would not close. Che. Damnation. This already is the third class section; do they have to make his life harder by jamming the window? He took out his sword and started to destroy the damned thing.

"Hey Kanda, look what have got!! Oh, you closed the window? Hehe, so you are my slave! Hello slave…ghghghjr…ghf..l-let m-me g-go…" Che, bloody brat. He deserved to be hanged upside down and slowly roasted over the fire. Kanda sat on the couch, folded his arms and made an attempt at falling asleep. Suddenly he felt the Warmth itself embrace him. He huddled in it with a satisfied grunt. Wait, who…

Allen carefully tiptoed to the other couch and unfolded a green, thick, cotton cover. He sighed and clasped it around his own body, leaving outside a mop of snowed hair. Now of all times, he really resembled a bean sprout. Kanda watched him for a long time, wondering, how these children are brought in the world, being so weak, yet acting so strong. A bean sprout is so fragile, it breaks at the slightest movement of the palm that caresses it; yet, it can penetrate a concrete pavement. Che. He did not like philosophy.

Kanda looked at the brat again. He was still trembling under that blanket of his. How ridiculous. That damned martyr. Che. Kanda got up and tore the green cloth off of him, giving his blue, woolen one instead.

"Brat, think of yourself first. If you don't, you will finish your days like a dog in some dump." Allen lay there, wide eyed. "I-I don.. Thank you, Yuu…..GHGHGHghghgh" "Don't call me by my first name, baka. You will pay with your life if you do." Kanda turned around then stopped, hearing muffled giggles. "Shut up, brat. I said SHUT UP!!!"

"I could never have guessed that you have that side of you too." Kanda's eyes glinted dangerously. "So what?" " I just think that's nice," Allen said, lifting his knees to his chin and embracing the legs. Now he really looked like a child.

"I did not have many people caring for me, you know. Some used me as a tool; others for their own satisfaction. Sometimes, I thought that I am a tool…" His voice was quiet, and his eyes were closed. Yet, he spoke clearly, as if telling a story, or reciting a poem. Kanda just listened. He felt that he will never see that honest face of the brat again. By morning, it will have changed into a mask of smile and fucking niceness. For some reason, that bothered him.

Despite his young age, Kanda knew people. He knew there were people who were used, and people who used. He did not like people. They were …ugly. Yet, he was killing physical, obvious monsters, for the sake of other, weaker monsters. Komui called them "innocent people." He, Kanda, was fighting akuma for the sake of "innocent" people. What a sick joke.

"I remember when I worked in the whore house. Those were the worst months in my life," Allen continued as if he knew that Kanda was listening. "I met women who were ready to sell themselves for a few bucks, and men that could fall so low as to give those bucks. They were fooling each other, some with masks, others openly. I was seven then. I could never figure out why my master liked hanging out in such places."

Kanda felt his stomach clench in a sickening grasp. He knew well what the brat was speaking about. He knew the masks. But not only were the pleasure seekers wearing them. Allen was too. He learned from them involuntarily. He was wearing that sickening smile in front of veveryone, like a doll.

Kanda wanted to throw up. He bit his lip. No, it was not his stomach that hurt. His chest was swelling in a muted cry. He groaned. "Moyashi, I am trying to sleep here. Would you shut your peepholes and hibernate? I don't care about your sweet seven, or seventeen, or seventy seven! Che. You bring only trouble…"

Allen was softly snoring in Kanda's chest. He was so skinny. Well, this will certainly keep him warm…

The train was still trembling in its own heartbeat, not caring about the world that it was transporting. It was made of metal. Metal is cold. It cannot care. It will not care.

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Huh, I'm falling asleep. I have no idea, whether to leave it as a complete story or make another chapter. (Sigh) I really need your opinions about this, so please review!