A/N: I do not own D. Gray-man.

Ch. 3

London, England

December 13, 1906

When Allen had learned that Lenalee intended to visit the circus, he had insisted that he take her there before it even opened to the public.

"You're sure this is okay?"

"Oh, sure!" Allen dismissed with an assured nod. "My buddy Oz does this all the time with the girls he's trying to impress."

Lenalee couldn't help playing coy. "Is that what you're trying to do? Impress me?"

She meant it as a little tease, but he reacted far more skittishly than she'd expect. Visibly flustered by the offhand remark, she imagined his face was burning with a bright red flush underneath his makeup as he rubbed at his neck and looked at everything but her. "N-No! I-I-I would never!" he stammered, all tongue tied. "That isn't to say—it's not that—what I mean is—"

"Relax, it was a joke," she chuckled, amused by his overreaction.

"Oh . . ." sighed Allen, coughing uncomfortably. "Ah, yes, of course. Very funny."

By his dry tone, he clearly didn't find it so, looking a bit put out by the light ribbing. He muttered something under his breath that Lenalee couldn't quite make out. When she inquired about it, he played it off with a nervous laugh. "Nothing, just thinking out loud."

She let it go without pressing the matter further, sure he'd never reveal what it was he had said.

To his credit, no one had looked twice when the two had strolled through the sea of half erect striped tents into the camp tucked away in the back. A few even waved as they passed, a gesture that Allen returned with a reserved smile.

"It seems nice here," remarked Lenalee, watching a pair of young boys scurry after a magician, the woman commenting on something that had her two apprentices laughing.

Allen nodded. "Life here at the Cirque de la Liberté tends to be pretty warm and accepting of all those who wish to become a member of the troupe. It takes pride in never turning away anyone who seeks to join."

"Have you been here long?"

"No, not nearly. It'll be a year come March, but compared to most of the people here I'm practically a newbie."

They stopped at one of the smaller tents and Allen sent an apologetic look her way. "Do you mind waiting out here while I change? It shouldn't take long."

She was coming to learn that Allen was polite to a fault and had an almost nauseating habit of putting the concerns of others before his own.

What did he think she was going to say to that? Yes?

"Take your time," she smiled as she stepped away to the side. "I'm in no hurry."

He nodded and slipped into the tent while Lenalee stood watching as the workers went about making preparations for tonight's show and performers refined their routines. There was something almost captivating about the way everyone carried out their duties like a well-oiled machine, never stopping or stuttering. She had only ever been to a circus once before and even it hadn't shown this level of careful discipline. She could only imagine how they handled the chaos of the crowds when things got especially busy.

When a matchstick of a man passed by with an unleashed tiger and bear lumbering behind him, she was reminded of Master.

General Klaud Nine had been an animal tamer back in America before being discovered as an accommodator. The woman never talked much about her past other than she had been looking for a change and the Black Order had offered her one.

Of course, like any Exorcist who made it past five years, the toll of near constant battle was steep and could make even the most optimistic of people cynical. From what General Yeager had told her, Master had been a much happier person before her brush with death. Now she'd be hard-pressed to give a smile, or really show any kind of emotion that wasn't cool indifference while amongst colleagues.

But there were moments, especially when she was alone with her apprentices, where the cold façade would melt away and what remained of her old self showed through.

She had smiled at Lenalee the day that they had met, when she had been presented before the five generals as the newest recruit.

London, England

November 26, 1894

The first thing Lenalee had noticed was the five figures sitting upon ornate chairs that seemed rather like gilded thrones fit for royalty rather than the eclectic group of stone-faced individuals. And there was a monkey, which seemed sorely out of place amidst the austere architecture.

They were arranged in a circle in the middle of the room and she had been forced to stand in the very center for all of them to see. On either side were rows of seats set at a gradual incline so that each row sat higher than one before it, stopping only shy of the gallery floor that wrapped around the walls. The large stained glass window was the only thing giving off light, but to its credit it provided enough illumination for Lenalee to make out some of the strangers' faces.

The second thing was that Oliver's hand lingered a bit too long on her shoulder, squeezing so tight that it was starting to hurt.

"Many thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedules to gather here today to meet our newest recruit."

Three of them gave an acknowledging nod while the other two appeared even more disinterested. The monkey chattered and Lenalee stared. She was more interested in it than whatever Oliver or the Generals had to say. If it was important, the man would translate.

Her curiosity seemed to catch the interest of the monkey's owner, the woman's attention moving away from Oliver and onto her. There was an almost somber detachment in the way she regarded her, with eyes that were both cold and warm. Her posture had not changed, nor had her expression, but there was something about that leveled stare that was distinctly sympathetic. As if she understood her plight without ever having been expressly told of it, but had forgotten how to show it long ago.

In any case, the unabashed scrutiny she was receiving from the lone woman in the room left Lenalee feeling a tad overwhelmed. She wished she was back in her room, even if it's plain walls and drab furnishings often left her restless with boredom. At least it was better than here, where people spoke in words she couldn't understand and everything was simultaneously too bright and too dark.

Oliver's hand returned to her shoulder to administer a discreet pinch with the tightening of his grip. It was becoming his patent way of showing his displeasure with her whenever in the company of others. For a man who reviled her own touch, he certainly didn't seem to mind touching her.

She must've annoyed him for gawking at the monkey rather than at least pretending to listen to their gibberish like the demure little girl she was expected to be. Even when she lowered her stare to the floor to stare blankly at the mosaic tiles, his hand remained on her shoulder as the heavy warning of a potential threat. Upset him again and he would do worse than a simple pinch as soon as they were alone.

The conversation continued until the man in the mask lifted his head from where it had previously rested on his thick knuckles and gave a roar of laughter. Something Oliver had said must've amused the man, for he leaned forward imperiously and spoke with a voice dripping with venomous ridicule. The way he gestured towards her with one beefy hand made it clear that he was talking about her.

Annoyed by some refusal, Oliver pushed her towards the man and said to her, "This is your new master, General Winters. You're to do everything he says. Do you understand?"

Lenalee nodded and took one step towards the imposing man. Her approach had him perking up in his seat and screaming something angrily at her. She stopped immediately, wanting to look back at Oliver for some kind direction on how she should handle this but too afraid to meet the inevitable glare that was meant to convey that this was somehow her fault.

Not knowing what else to do, and that Oliver would be very upset with her if she just stood there, she did what was expected of her and continued forward despite General Winters's belligerent yelling. The man stood up from his chair, the thick cords of muscle in his arms and chest tensing up as an almost wild panic filled his pale grey eyes.

She had never seen a person look so terrified while simultaneously being so enraged that she had the distinct urge to flee before he could lash out her like the cornered animal he was acting like. But the crack of a whip splitting the air with a distinct pop had them all pausing in place, the soft clicking of heels on tile announcing the approach of the woman general as she descended from her throne.

With a confidence that Lenalee surely didn't possess, the woman walked up to General Winters and gently prodded him back down into his chair. A few whispered words were shared between them that seemed to put the hulking man at ease before she turned to face Oliver and said something that had him tight lipped with displeasure. He nodded reluctantly to whatever she had said and left without a backward glance.

Confused by what had transpired in a matter of seconds, Lenalee flinched back a step when she finally looked back to see the woman kneeling before her with the ghost of a smile on her lips. While the other four men got up to depart, sharing a few words amongst themselves, the woman remained crouched in front of her looking like she wanted to say something but knew that whatever was said would be lost to Lenalee.

Instead she settled with stroking her hair and carding her fingers through one of her pigtails, her smile becoming a bit more pronounced with each passing second. Up close, with her full lips, straight nose, and round eyes, she was undeniably the most beautiful woman Lenalee had ever seen.

But it was a sort of sad, tragic beauty, like that of an exotic animal that had been captured and caged. Though it still may look the same, the spark, that fire that had made it so very much alive had been extinguished and all that remained was a hollow shell of something that had once lived.

Was this to be her future? Was she destined to become just like this woman, trapped and having long since accepted that as fact? Too tired to fight and not strong enough to resist?

Panic and terror filled at the thought. Where was Komui when she needed him most? Where was her brother?

The tears came spilling over her cheeks before she could stop them. This was suddenly too real and any chance of going back home to her brother had slipped away—if it had ever really been there in the first place—now a far-off dream than any real hope. Whether she liked it or not, she was expected to follow this woman's direction, to learn what it meant to be an Exorcist. Learn what it meant to live but be dead inside. To be dead yet somehow still alive.

She was sobbing so hard that each breath felt like something she had to earn, a struggle that she'd win by the skin of her teeth only to be thrown back into the ring for another round. It was like a dam had been released and there was no hope of ever stopping it.

A pair of arms wrapped around her shivering frame and drew her close. Swathed in the warmth of an embrace and head pillowed on the woman's bosom, Lenalee hardly noticed when she was lifted off her feet and cradled like the infant she hadn't been in years. When she could calm herself down enough for her sobs to sound more like shuddering gasps than pitiful wails, she could hear the woman hum a low lullaby while she swayed back in forth.

Startled by this unexpected display of maternal care, Lenalee gaped up at the woman that was to be her master. The humming ended abruptly when she'd noticed Lenalee watching her with too wide eyes. That sad, beautiful smile returned to her face as she spoke the only bit of Chinese she knew. "I'm sorry."

It was strange. No one had ever thought to apologize to her for the circumstances that had brought her here, nor initiate any sort of human contact that wasn't either distant or harsh. No one had ever shown her such kindness. Or pity.

Regardless of whether it was kindness or pity that drove this woman to hold her close, Lenalee clung to that bit of humanity with all the desperation of a drowning man, curling against the woman's chest and pressing her face into the black and gold fabric to hide her never ending tears. The soft tune was picked back up again and the slow rocking resumed as she moved to her chair to have a seat.

She never complained, never hinted to any sort of annoyance or discomfort in the long hours that followed. All she did was sit there with Lenalee secure in her arms, humming that same song endlessly.

Lulled by the low sound, Lenalee couldn't fight the exhaustion that hit her hard once the tears had begun to subside and allowed sleep to take her away. It was easy to pretend that she was back in her mother's arms, that her parents were alive and that they were all back home in their remote village where nothing bad could ever happen to them. That she was safe and loved and happy, oh so happy.

What a complete joke.

The sudden weight of an arm slinking across her shoulders snapped her out of the memory. Tilting her head to the left, she was greeted with the sight of a lithe young man with dancing brown eyes smirking down at her with a cocksure grin. It reminded her a bit of Lavi, when he was really trying to sell his character to people.

"Hey," he purred. "I don't think we've had the pleasure. The name's Oswald, but you can call me Oz. And you are?"

Lenalee stared, recalling that Allen had mentioned a friend named Oz. One who made it a habit of flaunting an untold number of women around the circus grounds apparently.

She shrugged off his arm, unimpressed with his advances.

If she wasn't an Exorcist, if her life wasn't constantly swept up in peril and death, if she didn't care as much, it would've been easy to let herself be swept away by the guile in his stare and the confidence that was just as bright as his pearly white teeth. She had met plenty of men with the same charm, the same swagger that could make any woman feel special. All of them had wanted a bit of attention she was unwilling to give.

Relationships with outsiders wasn't strictly discouraged, but it was frowned upon. Central would rather Exorcists copulate with other Exorcists, in the off chance that a pregnancy might produce another accommodator ripe for the picking. Such a thing was rare, but that didn't stop the higher ups from seizing every infant born under the Black Order's roof and offering them to Hevlaska as sacrificial lambs.

She knew of Exorcists who preferred short lived flings with people met on far away missions and while she understood the appeal—her first time had been with some guy not unlike Oz in China when she was sixteen—the novelty of it was short lived. Taking advantage of the transitory nature of their line of work wasn't something she was particularly interested in. She wanted something more but was too afraid of the risk that it entailed.

Her prolonged silence coupled with his dwindling patience managed to put a dent to his charm and his once inviting grin transformed to an irritated grimace.

"Are you some stupid chink that can't understand a word I'm saying?"

Whatever shred of interest she may have had of getting to know Allen's friend flew away with the insult. She opened her mouth to curse him out but was interrupted by the appearance of Allen emerging from the tent with a disapproving frown.

"Oh wow, that sure is attractive," Allen snapped, shoving Oz back so that he wasn't hovering so close to Lenalee. "I'm sure all the girls just love it when you show them a bit of racism."

Oz held up his hands in hopes of placating his irate friend. "Relax, what's your problem?"

"My problem is you and your incessant need to flirt with every woman you see and then get upset when she doesn't pay you any mind."

Oz's eyes darted between the two of them before a slow grin pulled at his lips. "I see how it is . . ." he drawled, slinging an arm over the shorter boy's shoulder and drawing him close with a boisterous laugh. "You've finally found someone that you've taken a fancy to! About time you started showing an interest in women. I was starting to think you might be a bit on the queer side. Well, I won't stand in your way pal! Just let me know if I need to find a place to spend the night, wouldn't want to step on your toes when you make the moves."

Allen squirmed free with ears flushed red and cheeks bearing a distinct pink tint that was darkening by the second. "It's not like that!" he snapped angrily. "And quit being an ass, she can understand every word your saying."

While Allen stood fuming in embarrassed irritation, Lenalee managed to remain composed for the two of them.

"He's right," she bit out, thankful for the perfect diction and lack of the residual accent from her younger days. She wasn't sure which she was madder at: his casual disregard or his apparent lewdness. Perhaps it was a bit of both. "So quit pretending I'm not here, pal."

At least he had the decency to appear ashamed, fidgeting uncomfortable in place. "Not one of my finer moments, I must admit." He recovered quickly however, sweeping into an extravagant bow and taking ahold her hand to plant a kiss on her knuckles. "Please accept my humblest apologies."

Lenalee yanked her hand away in disgust, fed up with his attempt of recovering some modicum of charm. She wasn't about to forgive him for the offhand remark nor pretend that she was okay with his behavior. Frankly she was starting to question Allen's character if this was the type of people he associated with.

"We're leaving," Allen grumbled, shouldering past Oz with long, stiff strides. "Let's go, Lenalee."

She followed him all too gladly, more interested in starting her investigation for this supposed accommodator than spending another second with Oz the Flirt.

Once they were well away, Allen slowed his quick pace and let his shoulders sag as he cradled his face in shame. "I'm so sorry about that," he apologized. "He usually isn't like this, really."

"Why are you friends with someone like him?" she asked, making her distain clearly known.

Allen shrunk away like a wounded animal, hunching forward even further. "It's . . . it's complicated. I've known Oz since we were both children and no matter how much he might irritate me, I can't seem to let him go, you know? He's like an annoying brother, the kind that you can both love and hate."

She knew the feeling. Komui tended to grate on her nerves from time to time, and was often oblivious to the fact. His idea of the doting older brother, while appreciated, often came across as a bit too strong. She supposed that couldn't be helped, given the four years they'd spent apart. And the one year that neither of them liked to mention.

For all his faults and shortcomings, she cared about Komui and it seemed that Allen felt the same for his childhood friend. She couldn't really blame him for that.

"I know what you mean," she remarked in hopes of easing some of his misplaced guilt. "Just when you think you can't possibly stand the person, they go and do something that reminds you why it is they were important to you in the first place."

He regarded her with renewed appreciation and Lenalee was struck by how boyishly handsome he was. She hadn't been able to glean much about his appearance beneath the costume and makeup—and really hadn't thought to notice until now—but now that it had been replaced by plain trousers, white button up, and ratty cap, he seemed substantially younger.

Lean in frame and round in face, he kept most of his reddish-brown hair tied back while letting his bangs fall into his eyes. Those eyes . . . they were the only thing that had stayed the same and they shimmered with an array of silver greys and hints of pale lilac. She had never seen eyes so captivatingly beautiful before.

Lenalee broke eye contact first when she realized she'd been staring a bit too long, adding hastily after clearing her throat, "Shall we continue?"

Allen nodded and with the sweep of his arm he gestured for her to lead the way. "Are you from around here?" he asked in hopes of striking up a conversation.

She laughed at his silly question. "What gave it away? My American accent or my Asian face."

"Hey now," he chuckled along with her as a slight grin nervously tugged up one corner of his mouth. "I didn't want to be rude by assuming. If you aren't from here, then what brings you to London?"

"Work," she murmured evasively. "Though I do live here, actually. Have been for most of my life." It was a sad fact, one made worse by her inability to remember much of her village or what her parents even looked like.

"What do you do?"

It was natural follow up question, one she should've expected, yet it still caught her off guard. How do you explain to someone that you fight demons in the name of God for a living and were expected to lay down your life for this noble cause without looking insane? It'd be so much easier if she worked at a café or something.

"I . . . I travel and find things." Lenalee settled with, hoping the answer was satisfying enough that he didn't question the ambiguity of it.

But Allen was proving to be a very curious fellow. "Like what?"

"Artifacts mostly, sometimes people. It depends on what is needed of me on any given day. I go and search for whatever they want wherever they send me. I've travelled all over the world because of it."

"Sounds nice," he replied. "But doesn't all that travel get old after a while? Don't you ever miss being home?"

"Not particularly," she admitted with an indifferent shrug. It was one of the few things that gave her a sense of joy and freedom. As much as she loathed being an Exorcist and all the baggage that came with it, she couldn't knock it for giving her this opportunity to see the world that she never would've had back at her small village in the heart of China. And any excuse to be away from the Black Order, especially when Central decided to pay a visit, was always a good one.

"What I wouldn't give to have a place to go back to every once in a while."

When she stared at him after his wistful remark, he explained in further detail, "As far back as I can remember, I've spent my life on the road. Sure, it's nice and all, you meet some fascinating people and visit some wonderful places along the way, but at the end of day it can be quite exhausting. Time passes, people change, places become different, and your often left without really knowing why. I don't know . . . I guess it would be nice to have some kind of constant that's always there."

"Seems like you're burnt out on circus life."

He rubbed the back of his neck as he gave a small chuckle. "Maybe just a little bit," he confessed.

"If you're so anxious for something more permanent, then what's stopping you from leaving?"

Her innocent query had him fidgeting anxiously and he started rubbing his left wrist in some nervous tick. "I don't really have anywhere else to go or a reason yet to leave. And if I were to leave, well, it's not like I have many options other than to join another troupe."

She wished she had some kind of offer for him, because for all its faults the Black Order was at least a stable environment. But it was also the Black Order, a place where people cut all ties from family and any prior allegiance and were expected to forfeit their lives for the sake of humanity. She couldn't feed him false promises of heroics and adventure as a Finder. He'd only resent her for it if the job didn't kill him first.

"I hope you find whatever it is you are looking for."

"Thanks," he grinned. "Though I doubt anything will ever come of it. At the end of the day, I'll always be a clown at heart."

"Speaking of which," she began as she made a show of looking him up and down. "Why aren't you in costume?"

"I'm too new and there isn't exactly a shortage of performers," he admitted with a helpless shrug. "The company's manager promised there'd be a spot for me during one of the shows, but I wouldn't hold my breath. Seems all I'm good for is hitting the streets getting tomatoes thrown at my face."

"But you do it so well," she remarked with an overly cheery tone, earning a laugh.

"And what a show it was! Alas, it pains me to say that I'm officially retiring from the whole tomato-in-the-face gig and moving on to the much more exciting world of confectionery goods," he replied with faux lament coloring his tone. "Though I'm not opposed to comeback performances sometime in the near future should my stint with pies prove to be disadvantageous."

"Such a shame. Should such a thing happen, rest assured that I shall be there to save the day."

"Will you now?" With an arched brow and teasing grin, Allen waited for her rebuttal.

He was enjoying this, she could see. But then again, so was she.

"If I don't, then who else will?"

"My regular ole knight in shining armor. Or perhaps my fair maiden in black would be a better descriptor."

"Just hero would suffice."

"My hero, then," he said with a slight snicker and the amused shake of his head.

Lenalee smiled and Allen smiled back, warm fondness softening his gaze. It was a pleasant enough sight, seeing the carefully schooled interest and scripted politeness give way to something that seemed more genuine, something a bit more real.

She likely wouldn't have noticed the subtly of it if he hadn't immediately clammed up and reverted back to the nervous bumbling of someone who was embarrassed by something they'd never admit. He broke eye contact first, smile dimming to an indulgent quirk of his lips while he took a step away to further the distance between them. It was like he was reminded of some arbitrary rule that dictated that there'd be a sizable gap between them so that nobody could mistake them for being anything other than growing acquaintances. Or just strangers, really.

Not that she would go out of her way of calling someone she hardly knew a friend, but the sudden aversion threw her off nonetheless.

The moment that was shared between them had long since passed and it was suddenly more awkward than it needed to be, especially when neither of them chose to bring it up. Conversation had stagnated to an uncomfortable halt and she wasn't quite sure how to get back that easy flow that introductory questions allowed.

Should she ask him a question of her own? Up until now, he'd been the one getting to know her and though he'd relinquished some details about himself, she still didn't really know anything about him.

Before she could begin to think up one, one of the troupe's roustabouts spotted them meandering amongst the rows of tents and called for Allen to assist him with some task. A flash of disappointment fleeted across his features as he acknowledged the request with a nod and a wave.

"I've got to go. The shows don't start until sunset, but you can wait in my tent if you want. Or keep wandering around, so long as you don't cause any sort of trouble."

"It's really okay if I just keep walking through your camp?" asked Lenalee. She didn't want to cause any unnecessary trouble for Allen or herself because of some investigation she was obligated to pursue. "No one's going to stop me if they see me back here?"

"I doubt it, but if they do, just mention me. So long as you aren't acting suspicious, no one should trouble you. And if you're ever harassed or anything of the sort, come find me."

"Don't worry, I can take care of myself just fine," she assured.

He looked like he wanted to continue to fret over things that could happen but let the words remain unsaid and instead gave her an astute nod. "I suppose you're right. Well then, I'll see you later?"

The tentative question that hung at the end of the sentence confused her. It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world, that they would meet up again once he was free, but perhaps he merely didn't want to presume. She had to wonder what it was that made Allen so cautious, so careful to make sure that things were plainly stated rather than be left up to a faulty assumption.

Maybe this transient life he lived left little room for uncertainty. Or maybe he was just being polite. Either were possible given what little she knew of him.

"Yeah, see you later." She gave a small wave and watched him depart with an even smaller smile that slipped away as soon as he was out of sight. With him no longer there to distract her, she was obligated to search for this illusive accommodator. Or at least say that she'd tried without it being a total lie.

It wouldn't be too hard. Here she was, walking, looking—it wasn't her fault if nothing out of the ordinary didn't cross her path. And really, it was only a rumor.

Such justifications would hardly please the Inspector had he been privy of her assignment. She'd be punished for her lack of effort into validating claims of a potential accommodator in the area. Nothing too harsh, nothing to keep her out of the field for more than a week because as they were, there wasn't enough Exorcists to safeguard the main branch, let alone the other five.

No rumor was too small or too outlandish to warrant some form of investigation. In times such as these, even Exorcists were put to such tasks that best befitted Finders.

Lenalee turned on her heel and made to begin her so called investigation when she bumped shoulders with a man who was passing by.

"I'm sorry," Lenalee apologized reflexively.

"Quite alright," he replied around the cigarette he had at the corner of his mouth. "Just try to be bit more careful with your surroundings next time."

She nodded and continued on her way, unaware that she was still being watched by the man with the cigarette.

The slight grin he kept on for appearances soured into a grimace as soon as she was out of sight, the burn of his ire hidden behind the foggy lenses of the glasses he wore.

"Damn," he muttered. "This is going to make things much harder."

A/N: So, so sorry for the delay. Like, I feel really bad because honestly, nearly all of this chapter was written months ago. I wanted to add more because nothing really happens but I had already had over 5000 words so I decided to wrap it up instead. This has just been sitting on my computer for forever and only now did I decide to finish it. I promise that won't happen again.

Thank you Vangran, DontMindMe1234, Leone Brion, Guest, Maerynkawaii, Anon3412, Sim, Manu259, EmeraldNorth, and ghost account 11111 for reviewing and all those who favorited/followed!