Days Passing By Chapter 8: Things Left Unsaid, a d.gray-man fanfic

Hello! Happy New Year 2016!

Finally, this is the long-overdue final chapter of Days Passing By. I want to thank everyone for your continuous support for this fanfiction and for me—all those messages and reviews that keep coming despite my long absence. They really do keep me going! :")

Special thanks for Mandy (Harmony283) for beta-reading this and for her continuous support even since the very first chapter.

Now I'm sure you can't wait to read this, so I'll shut up now and let you enjoy the chapter.

ETA: Now with accompanying fanarts by boosify! Check it out at .com(slash)post(slash)136655166267 :D

THINGS LEFT UNSAID

a1y-puff

Avoiding Kanda wasn't as easy as Allen thought it would be. Of course, them being roommates and all did not help either. He managed to kind of escape that night by pretending to go straight to sleep after showering, saying he was tired and sleepy and he needed to make up for all those nights staying up studying. Kanda hadn't tried to bother him then, probably still too stunned by Allen's sudden confession.

Thinking back, Allen kind of wanted to smack himself for even saying those—those magical three words—

"Oi."

Allen nearly jumped out of his skin—hands freezing in the middle of putting his clothes into a large backpack. Slowly, he turned his head and put on his best blindingly fake smile. "Yes?" He thought he saw Kanda cringe.

Kanda's frown deepened as he crossed his arms and glared at Allen's backpack on the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Packing?" he offered sheepishly, though it only seemed to irked the older man further.

"Yeah, why? Are you—"

"I need to go back home for semester break, Kanda," he tried to explain, implying that no, he wasn't running away from Kanda or anything—except that it was exactly what he was doing. It was really lucky that the timing of his stupid confession was also when it was nearing winter break.

Kanda looked at him as if he knew what Allen was actually thinking, though, and Allen could only hope he wasn't about to bring that up again—

"So are we going to talk about that before you leaving?"

Well. Of course. Kanda had always been defying Allen's expectations. When did he ever do what Allen wanted anyway?

Heaving a sigh, Allen turned around to face Kanda and dejectedly said, "Could you do me a favor and pretend it never happened?"

Allen really wished Kanda would cooperate this time. After all, wouldn't it be easier for him too? But again, Kanda never did what Allen expected him to do.

He took one step closer to Allen, frowning down at him and bitingly said, "Aren't you selfish, after saying things like 'I like you', now you want to pretend it didn't happen? That nothing ever happened?"

That did it.

"Wasn't it you who said it didn't mean anything?" he finally snapped, glaring at Kanda heatedly with emotions he failed to suppress. "You were the one who kept saying that and now you want me to talk about it? Grow some heart!"

Shit, Allen cursed himself inwardly as he caught sight of Kanda's stunned face. He didn't mean to say that—to imply Kanda was heartless. He knew it wasn't true. He should be the one who knew how kind Kanda actually was.

Between them, the air was stiff. Only his heavy breath filled the otherwise deafening silence. Allen lowered his gaze to the floor, unable to look at Kanda's face without feeling ashamed of himself.

He put the piece of clothing he was still holding into his backpack, before slowly walking towards the exit. "Sorry," he murmured. "I'll—go cool my head."

If Allen had looked back, he would have seen the pain—and something else—making its way into a pair of dark eyes.

But Allen didn't.

Being away from Kanda did not mean Allen could take his mind off of him. They had been roommates for almost half a year now, but it sure felt like forever. Allen felt like he had known Kanda so long that it felt weirder not having him around.

Allen sighed with his chin propped up on one hand, flipping through the magazine he was holding just to have something to do.

Then, he heard a snort coming from the one-seater sofa to his left.

"Brat. You've been sighing hundreds of times since you've arrived," his redheaded guardian commented, sipping to his nth glass of wine.

Allen lowered his eyes to the magazine he wasn't really reading. "I have?" he tried to sound nonchalant. But of course, he wasn't fooling anyone. Moreover, this was Cross.

Another snort from the older man. "Like a lovesick puppy."

That made Allen's cheeks heat up. He tried to camouflage it with a scowl, but it only earned him a chuckle.

"You know what, kid? Go outside. Buy some cake. It's your fucking birthday. Stop pouting, you're asking for bad luck."

"Not pouting," Allen tried to deny, but Cross just waved a hand and shooed him away. He tried not to puzzle over the somewhat kind tone Cross had used. Like he actually cared.

Heaving one last sigh, Allen stood up pushed himself off the couch and went to get his coat and wallet.

When Allen came back, he half-expected Cross to have disappeared again. But, no. He was still there, lounging on the couch. From the kitchen, came a mouth-watering smell that Allen was sure hadn't been there when he left.

It turned out, Anita—the lady whom Allen suspected Cross would finally settle with, soon, even though she was too good for him—had come to visit, bringing multiple Chinese dishes from the restaurant she owned.

Ah, Allen thought, she's really good for him. She must be the reason Cross had softened up.

There was no Christmas tree in the house, nor were there any Christmas-y decorations. But the house was warm and their dining table was full of food. A paper bag adorned with a silver ribbon was handed to him by a smiling Anita, who then winked and whispered, "From Marian and I."

There was a cream-colored woolen scarf with red pattern on each ends, and a matching pair of gloves.

Allen was, simply put, happy.

Later that night, when his stomach was satisfied and the dishes were taken care of, Allen watched from the kitchen counter, how Cross and Anita were sitting on the couch, murmuring in low voices and smiling to themselves.

It put a smile on his face, too. This house finally felt like home.

And suddenly, Allen missed his small dorm room that had been his home for the past months, complete with the morbid decorations, the two pet goldfish and of course, one pretty prick of a roommate.

It was nearly midnight when Allen retreated to his bedroom. His eyes immediately fell on his phone, where he had left it to recharge. The screen was blinking, so Allen went to check his phone.

There were text messages and chats, mostly wishing him a happy birthday, but there was one name that immediately caught his attention.

Yuu Kanda.

'Hey. Happy birthday.'

It was sent about an hour ago.

Allen sat on his bed, reading the three words over and over. A small, wistful smile graced his lips. His thumbs started dancing across the virtual keyboard on his screen, typing all sort of things including inquiries about Kanda's Christmas and his plans for the holidays.

He typed 'I miss you' at the end, and let it sit for a while.

Then, his thumb pressed the backspace button and erased everything. In the blank reply form, Allen typed a simple: 'Thanks. Merry Christmas, have a good time with your family. '

Allen came back to the dorms two days before the new semester started. When he arrived, Kanda definitely did not expect the large jar of cookies thrust into his chest.

"Lenalee's cookies," Allen offered with a blinding smile Kanda was starting to hate. He was getting even more suspicious when the brat added, "All for you."

Kanda gave Allen a deadpan look. "Really. Why?"

"Peace offering?" Allen's smile turned sheepish now. "Ah, but please let me have some."

Then, the boy proceeded to unpack his bag, humming a low tune Kanda recognized as the song Allen set as his ringtone.

Allen looked—normal. No traces of the outburst before he had left. Kanda couldn't help but feel something was off.

It didn't take long for him to notice what that was.

"He's acting like nothing ever fucking happened," Kanda hissed into the phone, frustrated. "It's even more annoying now than before—guh."

"Dude. Chill." Lavi's voice responded from the other side of the phone. "You sound constipated it's actually kinda hilarious."

"Fuck off, Rabbit," Kanda barked into the receiver. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this shit."

"Because I asked?" there was clearly laughter in Lavi's voice, and Kanda hated how the redhead sounded like he was really enjoying this. Kanda wished Lavi was here just so he could strangle the idiot to death. His mind derailed from that train of thought when Lavi asked, "So he's completely avoiding the topic?"

Kanda heaved a heavy breath. "Yeah. Like the plague."

The other end of the phone was silent for long seconds Kanda thought Lavi had fallen asleep or something. Then, he finally said, "You know, I'm more surprised that you actually tried to talk about it at all."

"Because the stupid bean is a complete moron." Kanda pressed his lips into a thin line. "He should understand already—but he clearly doesn't."

"Understand what, exactly?"

A vein popped in Kanda's forehead. "Just because I don't like to label feelings, it doesn't mean they aren't fucking there," he snapped. "And now he wouldn't even listen— "

"Yuu," Lavi's voice sounded like a mix of amusement and exasperation. "He's not a mind-reader. And after all 'this doesn't mean anything' crap you threw at him? His reaction is completely normal. He's just avoiding getting hurt, you know."

Kanda fell silent at that. The memory of Allen's face that night and his words, 'Grow some heart!' rang in Kanda's ears as if Allen was right there next to him.

As if Allen was really hurt.

"Tch," he clucked his tongue weakly. "Why the hell do you even know about all this anyway?"

A small laugh was his answer. "I've got my sources," Lavi said, and Kanda could imagine the rabbit trying to wink with his single eye.

He sighed. "So, what now?"

"Well," Lavi started, sounding serious for once. "Even if you told him now, he probably wouldn't believe you so easily, after everything."

Kanda couldn't help feeling that little prick somewhere in his chest, hearing that. He sighed into the receiver, then heard a soft chuckle in response. He frowned.

"Aww, Yuu," the rabbit fucking cooed, and Kanda wanted to strangle him right then and then. "You know what, just try and convince him that he doesn't mean nothing. You suck at talking, so just. Do what you do best. Actions speak louder than words," Lavi sing-sang, and Kanda couldn't help but snort.

But he was right. If the brat didn't want to talk, then he simply wouldn't talk.

He'd just have to show it.

Being away for a while—even if it was only a short time, Allen had almost forgotten what it was like to be jolted awake so early in the morning by the shrilly rock guitar sound Kanda had set as his alarm.

Groaning, Allen grabbed his aching head, before pushing himself up to a sitting position. He wanted to go back to sleep, really. But somehow, he felt like he shouldn't. He remembered bits and pieces of his dream—not a very pleasant one, and though he hated to admit it, Kanda's stupid alarm had actually saved him from what had been about to come in the dream—something he would rather not relive. Allen kinda missed all those times he had to work on assignments until ungodly hours so that his body would be dead tired and he would go to a dreamless sleep afterwards.

The shrilling noise stopped. Allen was vaguely aware of the movement from the bed across the room, and it was only a minute before he heard Kanda, with his sleep-latched voice, said, "What. You're awake too."

"And whose fault is that?" Allen retorted, lightly pinching the bridge of his nose to try and soothe his head.

"Shouldn't you be getting used to it by now?" A soft snort, followed by a rustling sound—Kanda was getting out of bed, it seemed. There was a pause, and finally a tentative "You okay?"

Allen blinked a few times before pulling his blanket away. "Mhmm," he hummed his response and slid his feet off the bed and onto the floor. "What time is it?"

"Five thirty," Kanda informed shortly. Then, "Aren't you going back to sleep?"

Allen let out a weak laugh. "Maybe I shouldn't."

He let his statement hung in the air. If it were anyone else, Allen was pretty sure he would get questioned by now. As expected of Kanda, though, he asked nothing.

Though he did not expect Kanda to just walk over to his side of the room. Allen looked up when he noticed his roommate was already standing in front of him. Kanda's face was as impassive as ever when he said, "Do you want to come with me, then?"

The January morning air was more than a little bone-chilling. Allen could feel it hitting his face as he accelerated his pace to keep up with Kanda. Damn his long legs. While Allen was already feeling a little out of breath, Kanda showed no sign of slowing down. Did the guy get cold at all, he wondered.

Kanda seemed to notice Allen falling behind as he turned his head and let out a soft snort. Soft, but mocking, nonetheless. Allen frowned and jogged faster to catch up with Kanda.

"Wheezing already, brat?" Kanda teased as Allen came up to his left side.

Somehow, Allen managed to put and spit out a "Not. Wheezing." Among his attempt to regulate his breathing. He really was getting out of shape. He rarely worked out ever since entering college.

Kanda merely smirked at his pathetic retort, and Allen hated what that miniscule smirk did to his heart. Really.

Allen turned his eyes back to the track ahead. They were in a park not very far from the campus ground. The dorms actually provided a jogging track, but apparently, it wasn't challenging enough for Kanda. It was a nice park, though the tall trees usually lush green were currently bared of their leaves. He probably wouldn't mind as much if this wasn't such an ungodly hour in winter. Allen wondered why he agreed to go jogging with Kanda in the first place.

Maybe because Kanda had never offered for Allen to go with him before, that Allen kinda had just nodded when Kanda did ask this morning.

Maybe because he was curious as to what Kanda would normally be doing in the morning.

"Oi, sprout. Tired already?" Kanda asked over his shoulder, and Allen realized he was once again falling behind.

"I'm fine," he shouted, because it had only been 20 minutes or so.

Allen fixed the red knitted hat he was wearing and picked up his pace once again, feeling the cool breeze caressed his cheeks, watching Kanda moved so gracefully in front of him—watching his back was so close in front of him now, if Allen just reached out.

Kanda had slowed his pace, Allen noticed.

He was probably supposed to be offended, but now, Allen was just happy to be running side by side with Kanda.

Maybe because he just wanted to be with Kanda.

Allen smiled bitterly to himself. Man, he was so hopeless.

They stopped by a 24/7 convenience store on their way back. Allen was so hungry after all the running. Unfortunately, just as he was ogling over a large beef sausage, Allen remembered that he didn't bring any money.

Kanda noticed his growling stomach, mocked him for it, then proceeded to order three beef sausage hot dogs. He gave two to Allen without saying anything.

Kanda was being so kind even after everything, even after they were no longer—whatever they had been before Allen had one-sidedly decided to break it off.

It almost made Allen wanted to hope once again, but decided not to look too much into it, because, hey. Kanda had always been kind—despite being a prick most of the time—even way before all of this started.

It did not necessarily mean anything... did it?

"So, how's life with ex-Prince Charming?"

Allen was only thankful Lenalee was speaking over the phone that he did not need to forcefully silence her for the remark. Still, it made him feel uneasy enough to double check and made sure Kanda had not arrived, before in a low voice, responded, "What ex-Prince Charming are you talking about?"

A soft chuckle was heard from the other side. "Oh, you know what I mean," she teased. "Seriously, though. How is it? Did you guys talk yet?"

Allen walked from the dorm's kitchen into his room and closed the door for good measure. That way, he would notice if Kanda was coming. He settled on his bed, leaning against the wall before finally responding to his best friend:

"There's nothing to talk about, really."

"Oh, don't you give me that, Allen Walker," Lenalee scolded, and Allen could imagine her face complete with that somewhat motherly frown she would often pull around him. Any minute now, she would probably going to give him a speech.

He needed to stop her before she even started. "It's true, though. I already said what I had to say before the break. I told you about it, didn't I?"

"Yes, and how you kind of just ran away afterwards? Sure, you did tell me."

"Lenalee..."

"Did you at least let him talk?"

Allen had to stifle a laugh at that. "I can't even imagine that Kanda having a heart-to-heart talk."

"In other word, you didn't. Let him talk," Lenalee deadpanned.

Allen sighed. "He didn't even try—"

Wait. That wasn't true. Kanda did try to talk about it, but—Allen didn't let him, did he?

He ran away.

Though, Kanda had probably given up trying to get him to talk by now, judging by how Kanda never mentioned anything about it lately.

"Allen? You still there?"

"Huh? Ah... Yes, yes. I'm here."

Lenalee must have noticed his absent voice, for she went silent for a few seconds. It was like she was waiting for Allen to tell her what was on his mind, but since he said nothing, the girl continued, "Do you notice any change in his behavior?"

Allen blinked at the question. "Not really..." except the part that they no longer kiss each other. "He's still his usual self. Treating me like nothing ever happened."

"By your request," she pointed out.

"You sound pissed, Lena."

"Because you two are so...uuurrghh! Seriously I can't believe you two," she ranted. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled loudly through the phone. "You know, Allen."

"Yes?"

"Assumption. Don't rely on it. Assuming things is stupid and dangerous and you boys need to just. Talk. For god's sake." A pause. "Both of you," she added for good measure.

Allen could only laugh weakly at that.

"I thought I taught you better than this, Allen Walker. Mommy is sad."

"Aww, mommy," Allen chuckled, and continued in a babied voice, "I'm so sowwyy—"

Creak.

Allen looked up at the sound of a door opening and found Kanda standing in the doorway, looking at him with half-frowning, half-amused face. Allen felt heat quickly rose up to his face. "Umm. It's Lenalee," he explained before Kanda even asked, because—

A snort. "Really. Mommy?"

Now, his face felt really hot. "Shut up. It's an inside joke."

"Oh, Kanda's there?" Lenalee spoke again. "Well then, tell him I said hi. And don't forget to talk! Bye, Allen!"

And before Allen could respond to any of that, the call was disconnected. Sighing, Allen pulled his phone away from his ear.

From his peripheral vision, he could see Kanda walking over to his desk, putting away his bag. "Lenalee said hi," Allen told him.

Kanda turned to look at him, scoffing softly. "Mommy?"

Allen's cheek heated up once more. "Let it go, will you?"

"Sure, sure." A pause, followed by a smirk. Then, "Big baby."

"BaKanda, you—"

Kanda was chuckling. Softly, almost inaudibly, but he was. Chuckling. Sort of. If his shaking shoulders were anything to go by.

It stopped as soon as Kanda realized Allen was staring, though. Kanda cleared his throat, then pulled something out of his jacket's pocket.

He walked over to Allen's bed and held his hand out. Confused, Allen looked down to Kanda's hand and—his eyes widened. It was chocolate. Almond chocolate from a rather expensive brand that Kanda had bought him once before to indirectly apologize for eating Lenalee's cookies.

This time though, Kanda didn't throw it at him. "For you, Sprout. Take it," Kanda said when was only looking at it dumbly.

"Uhh, thanks," Allen hesitantly reached out and took the proffered chocolate from Kanda's waiting hand. Then, he looked up. Meeting Kanda's eyes with a confused look. "Umm, what's the occasion?"

Because as far as he remembered, Kanda didn't do anything which should make him feel guilty, this time around. Nothing was stolen. Allen's stuff was intact, so why—

"Saw that when I dropped by the convenient store earlier. Thought you'd like some," Kanda shrugged casually. When Allen continued to stare, he responded with a frown. "It's just chocolate, Moyashi. I can't buy stuff for you for no reason?"

"N-no, of course not. Uhh..." Allen stared at the chocolate in his hand, at Kanda's still impassive face. "Thanks..."

Kanda simply grunt and—and ruffled his hair. "Eat it," he said, before turning on his heels and walked over to his desk and proceeded to mind his own business.

Allen looked at the chocolate in his hand, and suddenly remembered his conversation with Lenalee.

'Do you notice any change in his behavior?'

No. This wasn't a change in behavior, was it? Even without the kisses, this was how Kanda would treat him usually—right? Why didn't he realize it before? And what did that mean—

Allen shook his head. 'Don't think too much about it', he told himself.

Inside his head, a mini Lenalee started giving him a speech about assumptions and talks and Allen dropped himself sideways until his head hit the pillow.

There was a point in Allen's life where nightmares were almost a daily occurrence. It was a period of time Allen would rather not recall, and he had forgotten most of it, but from time to time, it came back to haunt him—as if to remind him that there was a part of his life that was far from sunshine and rainbows.

He would dream of a meadow. Vast and eerily silent. The wind which blew had no sound, but it left him feeling cold inside.

And then there was Mana. His first adoptive father. The one who taught him to love.

The one who died because of him.

Smoke. There was smoke everywhere. The stench of things burning. The feel of being enveloped in heat so great he couldn't breathe.

'No.'

He was burning. His left arm was burning.

'Help me...'

And he couldn't see—couldn't find Mana.

'Mana, help me...'

'Mana... Mana...!'

"Oi, Beansprout!"

Allen gasped loudly as he jolted awake. For a moment, his chest felt so tight he thought he'd die from lack of oxygen. But then there were hands on both his cheeks, and a familiar face came into his blurring view.

"Bean Sprout," Kanda tried again, slowly. "Can you hear me?"

Yes, Allen wanted to respond, but his throat felt so tight and his lips wouldn't move. He tried to concentrate on maintaining his breathing and focusing his eyes.

He was met with a pair of dark, deeply concerned eyes.

"Allen," Kanda tried again. The hands on his cheeks helped angling his face to focus on Kanda's. "Are you awake now?"

His breathing had gradually returned to normal, and Allen was now able to see Kanda's face so clearly he could make out the worried lines between those dark eyebrows.

"You called me by my name," Allen commented, though his voice was still a little a raspy.

Kanda 's frown deepened at that, and the hands on his cheeks moved to pinch them instead. And pinched them hard. "That's the first thing you have to say after scaring the hell out of me?"

"Aww—owwyyy," Allen whined, and Kanda finally pulled his hands away. Allen's own hand went up to rub at the abused cheeks. "You don't need to pinch so hard."

"Tch," looked away as if trying to gain his own composure. "The hell was that all about?"

That was when Allen noticed the disheveled look on his roommate. Kanda's hair was messy, falling over his shoulders and sticking out here and there. Like he jumped out of bed and right to his side—

"Umm, sorry. Did I wake you up?"

Now, Kanda was glaring at him. "Who wouldn't wake up if there's someone in the room whimpering like they're dying?"

Allen let out an awkwardly weak chuckle at Kanda's words.

Dying.

He had been—hadn't he? Just moments ago. In his dream. He'd been dying—but he survived.

Mana did not.

"Oi." Kanda waved a hand in front of his face, and Allen nearly jumped in surprise. He raised his eyes to meet Kanda—who didn't bother to hide his concern. He must have looked really out of it, huh. "Do you... want to talk about it?"

Allen smiled sheepishly at that. "I'd rather not, actually."

Because talking about it meant he had to remember—to relive and recite that moment. And he really would rather not.

Kanda looked like he was thinking about something, before finally stood up from Allen's bed. "Okay, come with me then."

"Huh?"

Before Allen could question further, Kanda grabbed his hand and tugged at it until he got out of bed, and proceeded to half-drag him out of the room.

He was brought to the kitchen. Kanda sat him down on the kitchen table, before going to rummage the cupboards. He could hear Kanda mumbling something along the line of 'old man' and 'grocery', before finally Kanda produced a box of something that looked like instant coffee or chocolate.

It was the latter, Allen found out, as Kanda started preparing two cups and picked another box of what he recognized as green tea. The sweet smell of chocolate wafted in the air, and before Allen knew it, he closed his eyes and just enjoyed the scent.

"I didn't know you liked hot chocolate," Allen commented idly.

"I don't . I'm making myself some green tea."

Allen blinked his eyes open. "Then why do you have it?"

Kanda scoffed as he walked to the kitchen table and set the cup of hot chocolate in front of Allen. "The old man bought it along with the grocery he sent me."

A soft chuckle escaped Allen's lips. "Lucky you, he must love you a lot."

"Ugh. Don't say it like that, it's gross."

"Seriously though," Allen picked up the cup, sniffed at it, and then took a small sip. Warmth immediately flooded his throat and down his chest. "Thank you for this. I feel a lot better."

"Good," Kanda grunted softly and took a sip at his own tea.

Allen watched Kanda's profile across of him. Long, dark tresses fell over one shoulder. Elegant fingers held the handle of his mug.

Then, he looked away, because—he really shouldn't be looking at Kanda like this, should he?

"I had those too," Kanda started, drawing Allen's attention back to his now solemn face. "Back then. When I was a kid."

"Had what?" Allen prompted gently.

"Nightmares," Kanda replied curtly. A little awkwardly. "Old man would make some of those. Hot chocolate. Was too sweet for me even then, but it helped me sleep better after. So."

And this—was probably the first time Kanda ever volunteered any information about himself. Allen couldn't help feeling all warm and fuzzy—couldn't fight the smile that forced its way to his lips at Kanda's stilted voice.

"Thank you," was all Allen could say. And it was not only for the hot chocolate. Allen made sure it was conveyed as he gazed softly into Kanda's eyes.

It was almost cute the way Kanda averted his gaze afterwards. "I don't need it anymore. You can have it. It's in the right cupboard if you want some later."

Allen knew he was stretching his luck when he said, "Oh, but I'd love it if you would make it for me next time too."

He was only half-joking. He had only wanted to tease Kanda a little. So really, could he blame himself if he was surprised hearing Kanda's respond: "Yeah, sure. Just let me know when you want some, next time."

Kanda said like it was not a big deal. Like it was only natural for him to do these things for Allen.

This, and all those little things Kanda did for him. Not only lately, but even from before... It made hope blossomed in his chest, and Allen really did not want to hope.

Nevertheless, his chest was warm.

Nearing February, Kanda often came home late, and when he did, he would be smelling of paint and sweat, looking tired and yet also kind of—excited. It really got Allen curious, because as far as he knew, few things could get Kanda even remotely excited.

"The oil painting department is going to have a mini exhibition," Kanda explained one day when Allen finally did ask about it. "We're preparing that right now, so."

"Cool. Will you have your paintings on display too?"

Kanda put down his sling bag on the coffee table in the living room and dropped himself in the sofa next to Allen. "Yeah, a couple of them." He proceeded to crack his neck and shoulders, making Allen winced a little from the sound.

"That's cool," Allen commented. A small smile graced his lips seeing Kanda leaned back to the backrest and closed his eyes. "I'll make you some tea," Allen stood up before waiting for Kanda's response and walked over to the pantry.

Allen was a tea-drinker. A habit Cross had often made fun of in regards of his British heritage. Though green tea wasn't exactly his cup of tea, he'd seen Kanda enough time to know where he kept his tea and how to make it just the way Kanda would like it.

In a few minutes, Allen was back in the living room, bearing two cups of tea—green tea for Kanda and a cup of Jasmine tea for himself. Kanda grunted his thanks and took a slow sip of his tea, then sighed contently.

Well, now Allen knew he made the tea right.

"By the way, I've never seen your paintings before," Allen inquired. "I mean... I've seen your sketches and designs, but never a painting... I really want to see them in person."

Kanda turned his head to look at Allen, pondered for a moment, then, "Do you want to come to the exhibition?"

"I can?" Allen perked up immediately.

"Yeah. It's open for the public. There will be entrance fee, but." Kanda paused to set his cup down the table in favor of searching his bag. He produced what looked like a ticket and handed it to Allen. "My painting will be on display, so I got some free tickets to give out."

Allen eyed the ticket with sparkly eyes. "I'll come! I'll definitely come!" he replied excitedly and turned to look at Kanda.

He was about to say thank you, but the words died in his mouth when his eyes met with Kanda's.

Kanda's smile—small and gentle—kind of stole his breath for a moment there.

The art and music campus buildings stood across of each other, but Allen had never set foot on the art building before. It was always an unfamiliar territory for him. But even with his bad sense of direction, it wasn't hard to find the Art Hall when there were tons of people heading in the same direction.

The gallery was not very big, but the clean and modern interior allowed the paintings displayed to be the center of attention. The paintings were arranged by theme and style. For the life of him, though, Allen couldn't remember what style Kanda used in his painting, so he decided to just take his time and explore the gallery.

Twenty minutes into the exhibition, Allen's eyes finally caught a large oil painting on canvas displayed towards the center of the gallery. Something in that painting called to him. Told him to come closer—it was a strange yet familiar feeling, so he walked closer.

"Do you like it?"

Allen turned his head at the new voice speaking to him from behind. His silver eyes met a pair of soft, grey eyes, wisdom hidden behind red-framed glasses. The man with frizzy hair smiled gently at him, and pointed with a tilt of his head to the name signed at the bottom corner of the painting.

Yuu Kanda.

Allen's eyes widened at that. "This is..."

It looked like a painting of a tree, with a black trunk and sleek branches, reaching out in all directions and taking up the upper half of the canvas. But instead of leaves, there was a burst of colors. Some were done in short, hard strokes, others shaped like circles of various sizes. The painting mainly used dark colors—blue, brown, black, with a touch of red and white. It felt almost like Allen was given a peek at Kanda's mind. Cold. Dark. Mysterious. But there was definitely warmth and passion only a select few were privileged to see.

It almost brought Allen to tears for no apparent reason.

"If you're touched by this, then you understand him well," the elderly man spoke again. "It would seem that he has opened up to you."

Before Allen could even respond, a new voice joined in. "You talk too much, old man."

Allen directed his gaze to Kanda, who just came up beside Tiedoll and giving the elderly man a half-hearted glare. Tiedoll just laughed at that. He turned to Allen and said, "Well, you must excuse me, I should attend to other businesses. Please enjoy your visit."

Allen watched until Tiedoll's back disappeared from sight. "That was Froi Tiedoll... right? I looked him up before. We have a couple of his paintings at home. Well they're Cross' but. I love those. I know he teaches here, but. Wow."

"You're a fan or something?" Kanda smiled teasingly, but there was a certain fondness to it. And a little bit of pride, if Allen wasn't mistaken. Kanda must have respected the man a lot.

"I love yours too, though. Do you have more on display?"

"Right next to it," Kanda gestured with his hand to Allen's left, where a slightly smaller black-and-white piece hung on the wall.

The second painting had a different atmosphere, yet it took Allen's breath away all the same. It was pure black and white, depicting a pair of hands from the top view, over black and white piano keys. The right hand was white, but the left one was black and slightly bigger in size. And while the right hand was solid, the left hand looked like it withered away on its left side into tons of black musical notes which danced into the air.

Allen felt a sense of connection with this piece more so than the others. Especially considering how his own left hand was rather—different. Though Kanda never asked despite having seen it many times.

"Hey," Allen started softly without tearing his gaze away from the painting. "This is..."

The question hung in the air, but one glance at Kanda and Allen knew his roommate caught on to what he really wanted to ask.

He did not expect, however, for Kanda to look him squarely in the eye and said, "I only draw and paint what's on my mind."

Those words. Kanda's look. The date on the painting which stated it was completed sometime around the semester break. Not to mention how Kanda had been behaving lately...Try as he might not to jump to his own conclusions, Allen couldn't help but feel like Kanda was trying to tell him something.

'Did you at least let him talk?' Lenalee's question danced inside his head.

He didn't let Kanda talk, did he? So was this...

Was this Kanda's way of... conveying his feelings?

That night, Allen went back to the dorm ahead of Kanda since the latter needed to stay and help clean up after the mini exhibition was done. On the way back, all he could think about was Kanda's paintings and the feelings they had evoked inside of him.

The messages behind them that Kanda was probably trying to get across.

'He's opened up to you.' Tiedoll's words rang in his ears.

'I only draw and paint what's on my mind.'

Allen was sure that the idea behind the second painting was—Allen himself. Kanda didn't say it, but he didn't deny it either. So what did that mean?

Too caught up in his thoughts, Allen had reached the dorms before he knew it. The shared living quarter was empty—Michael had probably gone off somewhere again. It was all good, though. Now Allen had all the time and space he needed to collect his thoughts. To recount every single thing that had happened—every word that had come out of Kanda's mouth.

Was he trying to tell him something?

After changing into lighter clothing, Allen went to the pantry to make himself some tea to help sooth his mind. After all, he had a lot of thinking to do. It was then that he noticed the sketchbook lying on Kanda's desk. He contemplated for a moment, before deciding to follow his urge to look through it.

Taking a seat on his roommate's bed, Allen started flipping through the sketchbook. One page after another, a small smile slowly crept up on his face. Kanda liked to draw random objects in his sketch book. Sometimes they were rough sketches of the scenery around campus. Sometimes, it was as simple as a drawing of a cup of coffee. There was even a sketch of Timcanpy and Golem swimming merrily inside their fish bowl. But these drawings were always lacking people.

Which was why, Allen was surprised to find a sketch of himself among the otherwise people-less drawings.

There were a total five pencil sketches of Allen in Kanda's sketchbook. Some were only his face—when he smiled, when he laughed, and one with an absent-minded look. The others were of Allen doing something—bent over his desk with his keyboard and another with him asleep messily with paper strewn all over his bed.

'When did Kanda even—?'

One of the sketches dated back sometime during their ambiguous non-relationship.

"I only draw and paint what's on my mind."

There were a lot of things whirling in Allen's mind—questions he badly wanted answers to. Allen flipped through the pages of the sketchbook again, as if all his answers were there but—

This was something only Kanda could answer.

This was—Allen traced the sketch of himself asleep among the papers that had been his homework—something Kanda was probably trying to tell him all along.

He needed to stop running away.

The room was dim when Kanda came back from the exhibition much later that night. The only source of light was the reading lamp on his desk. Kanda found Allen asleep on his bed, with his sketchbook lying open next to the pillow. The page was opened to a sketch Kanda remembered drawing during the time the brat was so exhausted from his homework Kanda kind of didn't want to wake him up.

So he had sketched him instead. At that time. Because he had nothing else to do.

It was almost funny how Allen was sleeping—curled up in a position much like the drawing next to his face. He tried not to think of how he felt knowing Allen had found his sketches of the bean.

Slowly, Kanda approached Allen's sleeping form, meaning to take the sketchbook away and probably wake the bean up and tell him to sleep in his own bed. As soon as his hand reached out, though, Allen's eyes suddenly blinked open and stared straight to his own dark eyes. Kanda's heart nearly stopped in surprise.

"Tch," Kanda clicked his tongue and continued to reach out for his sketchbook. "If you were awake you could have said something."

He was about to take said book when Allen's fingers circled around Kanda's wrist. Eyes still locked on his own. "Hey, about the sketches..."

Kanda fell silent, but met his gaze nonetheless. Then, when Allen continued to just stare at him, he challenged, "What about them?"

The fingers around Kanda's wrist twitched slightly as those silver eyes wavered for a second. But then a look of steely determination crossed over Allen's face and he asked, "Do they—also mean nothing?"

Silence fell upon them again as Kanda chose to simply look Allen in the eye instead of giving a verbal answer. They stalled for a few more seconds, before Kanda finally replied, "I stopped saying that a while ago, didn't I? Do I have to spell everything out for you?"

Because really, the stupid sprout should know better. Kanda conveniently ignored the fact that he himself probably made the situation worse by not being clear in the first place.

Then suddenly, Allen was chuckling. He released Kanda's wrist in favor of pushing himself up to a sitting position and dropping his feet to the side of the bed, before grabbing Kanda's hand once more and tugging until Kanda was sitting down next to him. "Of course you do, BaKanda! I hope you know I don't have the ability to read minds."

Kanda simply snorted at the comment. He might not have anything sweet to tell the bean—he could feel himself inwardly gagging at the idea of having to say those mushy words—but Kanda did know he needed to confirm his feelings for Allen.

So he maneuvered his hand to twine their fingers together, looked Allen in the eye and asked:

"So can I kiss you now or what?"

Allen blinked once, then twice before his lips stretched and started to tremble—and finally, the boy laughed. And laughed. And said, "You're such a hopeless dork."

Then, he leaned forward and closed the distance by landing a soft yet firm kiss on Kanda's waiting lips.

When Kanda kissed back, Allen finally understood. They did not need to name these feelings. No need for labels.

They belonged together.

And that was all that mattered.

—NeverEnding—

A/N: So… This might not turn out like you expected, but I do hope it did not disappoint. To tell you the truth, I am very nervous about this chapter, so I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what you think of it, pretty please? :"D

Also, now that this is ending and DGM is getting a new anime season, I will probably be more active in this fandom, so I hope you would continue to enjoy my future works as well. For a starter, I would start focusing on continuing my other Yullen WIP: The Walk. I am expecting to post a new chapter soon.

Lastly, thanks once again for sticking with me. I am sad that this story is ending. It's been hell of a ride and you are all awesome. Thanks for everything and please do drop me a word. I will try to reply to all of you.

Cheers!