Allen is still very new to this school, but for once he doesn't feel terribly like an outsider. Lenalee, a kind young woman who is in a couple of his classes, had decided to befriend him from day one, introducing herself and asking things about Allen that somehow don't feel intrusive like every other time he'd been asked. She runs through the usual questions, as one would, where are you from, have you been to America before, is that your natural hair colour, are you British. She seems to avoid any questions about his appearance other than his hair, which she tells him looks 'totally rad on him', and he appreciates it; it had been a long time since he could talk to anyone new without getting weird looks or a query on what had happened to his face.

Then she invites him to sit with her at lunch. At first he isn't sure what to say, but saying no wouldn't really get him anywhere, and he figures it might be a nice change of pace. She seemed to be on good terms with nearly everyone in the school, the heart of the student body. He likes that about her; she's friends with everybody and doesn't take sides. She has two friends in particular that she seems closest to, who Allen is introduced to as she leads him over to what appears to be their usual place, sitting next to her across from the two older boys. One is a guy who looks friendly enough, a smile wide on his freckle-dusted face, his shock of red hair held back with a headband. He has only one eye, brilliant vibrant green, the other covered by a patch that Allen couldn't help but be a little curious about. The other he feels like he should avoid, even if he is (in Allen's unbiased opinion) a relatively attractive man, with dark hair and sharp features and a glare that seems to cut into his soul.

"Oh, who's the fresh meat?" the redhead asks, leaning forward as if to get a closer look at said meat.

"Guys, this is Allen," Lenalee says as she sits down beside the younger boy, smiling. "He just moved here, so treat him nice."

"I want to treat him more than 'nice', god damn."

"Lavi!" Lenalee pulls a face at him, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender, while Allen tries to figure out what to make of this guy. She turns back to Allen with an apologetic smile, apparently very used to this kind of behaviour. "Sorry, that's his way of saying hi. If he flirts with you, just punch him in the mouth, okay?"

"Aw, Lena, you wound me!" he cries, holding a hand to his chest for emphasis. Then he sticks his hand out towards Allen, smiling gently at him. "Pleasure to meet you, though. The name's Lavi."

"The pleasure's mine," he replies, taking Lavi's hand and shaking it. It's firm, strong; he either worked with his hands a lot, or had shaken many a hand before. Perhaps both.

Lavi withdraws the hand, opting for resting his chin in it and his elbow on the table as he observes the younger boy. "I gotta say, I really like your eye," he says, and Lenalee stiffens a little. "It looks mad gnarly."

Allen just laughs, more sincerely than he'd thought. "Why, thank you. I was just thinking about how lovely your patch is, it looks very dashing on you."

He perks up, a little surprised. "Did you hear that, Lena? Dashing! I like you, Allen, you can stay. What do you think, Yū?"

Allen's attention is now brought to the other man at the table, who hadn't said a single word or even so much as acknowledged his presence. He was kind of glad for that, because the look he receives is not one he enjoys having directed at him in the slightest. "He freaks me out," the man mutters, sharp and refined with hints of an old accent Allen can't quite place.

"Kanda! That's not very nice," Lenalee scolds, and Lavi even gives him a slight nudge in the ribs, which earns him a slap upside the head.

"It's alright," Allen says, giving them a smile. "He's not the only one freaked out by a guy here."

"Is that supposed to mean something, brat?" the older guy –Kanda, he thinks– growls at him, and Allen simply gives him the smile he reserves for when he feels particularly like being a pain. "I swear, kid, you fuck with me and it will be the last thing you ever do."

Lavi laughs a little uneasily, grabbing Kanda's hand where he'd been holding a fork out threateningly. "Alright, dear, I think poor Allen's had enough of your antics for one day. People can only take so much a time if they're not used to you."

"He'll be dead before he gets used to me," Kanda snaps, but he drops the fork, instead gathering his things and storming away from the table with a flick of hair that would be obnoxiously long if it didn't look so good on him.

"Don't worry," Lenalee assures him, "He's always like that with new people. Sort of."

"Charming," Allen replies, and wonders how someone like that had managed to be befriended by lovely people like Lenalee and Lavi.