IV.

[ April ]

It was over.

The War, gone on for so long, was finally done. Victory and loss mixed together, but they had won and that was it.

…or was it?

It had hardly been a pure war, after all. The means of winning…they had been so focused on winning that they would sometimes put morality on the line. Or, give people a skewed morality. His own had been quite off—he certainly had it, but there were many things he had been unfeeling about.

Had been. At the moment, he couldn't really be jaded to a lot of things.

Link's fingers tightened around his pen before they loosened, and he glanced up at the clock to see that it was close to four in the morning. Did anyone know that all the Crow carried out executions at that time of the morning because it was hour of death? Probably not.

…though, he had come close to pronouncing judgment on Allen Walker during a completely sporadic time of the day. God help him, his anger that day….

Tevak's words. The strange morphing. Tokusa's transformation. Leverrier's threats. His own actions. And to think, only a little while before, he had been asked if he were capable of killing Allen Walker. In the very beginning, he would have said yes. Before this happened, he would have he wouldn't know. Now…he would have to say no, he…couldn't do that.

Someone was fumbling with the door, and he raised his head to look at it.

"Link? Are you there?"

"Walker, you're supposed to be in the infirmary."

"Yes, well—" A soft huff indicating that he had sighed. "I want to be in my own room."

A pause, and Link silently got up and unlocked the door. "It shan't be my fault if the Head Nurse comes after you."

"Err…" Allen paused as he walked into the room. Timcampi flew in after him. "I'll worry about that later," he called over his shoulder as he headed for his bed.

Link went back to his desk, the sounds of bed sheets rustling in the background as he picked up his pen again, rolling it between his fingers. Timcampi settled on his desk, nestling himself in his usual place in one unobtrusive corner.

"Everyone…hovers," Allen was saying. "Even though they mean well. I supposed when they wake up, they'll wonder where I'm gone…"

He let the boy speak; his pen was dry, and he wasn't really looking at the blank page anymore.

"We won. The darkness is over, and after everyone recovers, we're celebrating our victory. But I wonder what is next for all of us." There was an underlying tone of bewilderment in his voice. "There…had not been anything else in this life."

It was true. Exorcists did their job until they died either in battle, or old age, or they became Fallen or were even executed. None of them had ever "retired," so to speak.

"I guess we are going to have to wait for the next calamity and a new generation of people to fight it…" Allen's voice was rougher than usual; it sounded exhausted. "It never ends for the world. Only for…certain people."

"The Order will cease to exist."

"…and Central?"

"Integrated into some bureaucracy connected with the Vatican." The Crow would gone and unrecorded. So would the experiments. Only some things would actually continue, because of the Bookmen.

"Is-is that it?" A slight creak indicated that Allen had sat up. "I'm certainly happy we have won, but…" his voice trailed off.

Link knew. A person, brought up and trained for only one purpose. And now that purpose was fulfilled, what next? Moving on. Yes, they had to. But how does one bid good-bye to a life?

"A part of me still wants…to continue this life," Allen's words were echoing his thoughts. "As an Exorcist…"

"I'm sure, with all of your talents, you will find something."

"You know it's hardly that easy, Link. What about you?"

What about him, indeed. His fingernails scraped lightly at the engravings of his pen, making a soft scratching sound. "Perhaps some desk job, or possibly a guard for the Vatican."

"And end up wearing one of those uniforms?"

"…very funny, Walker." The brightly-coloured uniforms of the Vatican guards was quite infamous.

A soft chuckle. "I can't imagine you wearing it."

"I only said maybe." He ended up putting the pen down so that he could look at his hands. Hands that killed and shed blood. Hands that…had also protected and helped, to some small degree.

But such a little degree.

The Noah weren't the only people capable of cruelty. Normal people could be the same, and sometimes worse. The Noah at least claimed to be a family; humans would coldly reject all familial bonds.

"Certain people should be judged for what they have done," he said, out of the blue. "For our own sins are not above the sins of the enemy."

"Link—"

"Like me. If the right people were supposed to be judge, I ought to be among those that are condemned." After months of knowing Allen, and ever since that week he had been sick, he realised he couldn't lie to himself anymore.

"They raised me to be a killer, Walker. This life of peace…I doubt I shall be very good at it."

"Do you think I would be any better? I lived for the sole purpose of being an Exorcist."

"At least you have the blessing of God."

"Is He not forgiving?"

"Some things can't be forgiven." He rested his head in his palm and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "Tell me, Walker, what's left for the winners? The losers are dead, but we live on. We remember those who've died. But then we die. And who is there to remember?"

"…and here I thought I was the only one who didn't know what to do." Allen snorted a little, but his tone wasn't condescending, merely resigned. "Komui and Lenalee are going to live together. Lavi is continuing his apprenticeship. Krory hasn't said anything about his plans, Miranda and Marie are getting married, Timothy is probably going back to France with Emile, Chaoji is staying on with General Tiedoll, and Kanda—"

A pause. "Well, he has his own plans. And I…" Link could hear the shrug in his voice. "I can live a sort of debt-free life without having to worry about someone taking over me. But…I thought this entire war was a secret."

"You want to be forgotten?"

"I'm still walking. Despite uncertainties, I'll move forward." And he can picture the smile. "…all of us. Even you. I wouldn't mind being forgotten if my friends and comrades remember."

"Hmph," was Link's reply. "And…normal job? What kind, do you think I should take?"

"Um…tutoring children to play chess?"

"Unlikely."

"Teaching a culinary course?"

"…what makes you think I can teach?"

"Well, you've taught me a few things?"

"I never."

"Not directly." The blankets shifted, and Link heard the sound of bare feet padding across the carpeted floor. "But you still did. Teacher Link. What do you think of that?"

"So I went from 'that inspector' to 'like furniture,' and finally 'Teacher Link'?" He twisted in his seat to give Allen a faint look of inquiry and amusement.

"Oh, I would never call you that. You're 'Link' in my mind," And here the boy looked abashed. "It was because I at first didn't recall your fist name."

"Very few people call me that, in any case."

"Any particular reason you always called me Walker? Only…you and Bak do that."

It was either Allen, Allen Walker, sometimes Allen-kun to people familiar with Japanese, Beansprout to two people, and then there was Walker.

"Allen was too familiar, Allen Walker too formal," Link responded as the former Exorcist pulled up a chair to the desk.

"Something in the middle?"

"You could say."

Allen considered this briefly and nodded. "I see."

And then they ended up looking at each other for a full minute because they had suddenly run out of things to say. "But, Link, what are you going to end up doing?" Grey eyes peered at him a little too closely, and Link had to look away.

"Something suitable."

The white-heard boy tipped his head. "Once things die down, I'm going to…travel around the world. For a couple months, anyway. There were places I've only been to couple times, but I was always too busy to travel for leisure." A slight grimace that came and went. "…do you…want to come along?"

"None of your friends?"

"Well, yes, they're coming with me, if I can ever convince Komui that nothing is going to happen to Lenalee." He scratched his cheek and grinned a little. "But I wouldn't mind having you there, because I've gotten quite used to it."

"Oh? You're not a afraid that I'm still taking notes?"

"I don't care."

"…hm?"

"Really, I don't." Allen propped his chin on his hand. "I'm not afraid to be who I am."

Link had to envy him for being able to say that. His life had been about following orders, and now that there were no more orders to follow…can he be blamed for being uncertain?

He supposed…it was time to test his freedom right now.

"I'll consider it."

"Good." Allen stifled a yawn. "I'm going to bed now. When the alarms go off because people are looking for me, wake me up." And he slipped off his chair. "Thank you, Link."

"…for?"

A smile. "You should know. For not killing me."

It is sometimes easy to forget he is only seventeen and that Link himself is only twenty. But this War had forced everyone to grow up quickly, to shed their childish ways in an instant to be soldiers. He watched Allen tuck himself in and close his eyes before Link clicked the lights off so that he could sit in the darkness and muse.

What had changed, he asked himself again.

Himself.

Everything.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and recognised it as Allen's golem. Absently, he rested his fingers on Timcampi as his eyes adjusted to the dark and he could hear Allen's breathing slow and even out. He even knew the average number of breaths the boy took while he slept…

All right, that was something that shouldn't matter.

Link glanced back at his desk, at the pile of four notebooks—all his own records. But what use were they anymore? They had been borne out of an obsession to understand, and perhaps also out of envy, which he hadn't even been able to name at first.

Petty, selfish reasons.

A pity it is no longer winter, and no fire is burning…

But at the same it really was a shame to burn all of them. He looked at them for a while longer before he finally stood up. He'd deal with them later. Right now, he ought to be sleeping.

Link squinted at the clock and found out he had entirely missed it striking four o' clock.

The hour of death was over, and now the hour of dawn was coming.

He found himself standing next to Allen's bed. Curled up, mouth slightly parted, the boy, for once, looked young. Boys his age should be running about outside, finding jobs and in his free time being mischievous and foolish. Free. But he had been burdened with that arm, a curse, a Noah, and a prophecy.

And yet he bore it.

All for this.

And he couldn't enjoy it as long as others had. His Innocence, due to the fact that it was Parasitic, had eaten away his lifespan and Link guessed that even Allen himself didn't know how much time he had left.

It seemed…unfair in a way. He could very well tell himself there was little that was fair in this world. But after all Allen Walker had done, was it so hard to ask for the joys of living to do things beyond being a soldier?

He sighed and shook his head, making an annoyed sound in the back of throat.

Allen shifted in his sleep, tossing to one side before he grunted and went still again.

Tentatively, Link put a hand out to touch the white strands of hair. They were slightly tangled, so he only passed his hand through without running his fingers through them.

So much had changed. He never thought he would do this, and say the things he was about to say.

"And…I thank you," he murmured. "…Walker."

Walker, not Allen.

Some things probably never would.

But he had to say he never regretted this job.

Owari

A/N: And I've made this story fourteen pages~ Yes, I am lame.

A/N #2: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it!