Hello!

I think I had half of this chapter written for weeks, and then the second half was written bit by bit in the past month and a half or so. I originally meant to have one more scene at least, but I realized it would just take longer. So I chose to give a shorter chapter compared to previous ones, but it's a welcomed decision if it means offering an update today~

We get here more hints of Altaïr/Allen, who knows when they might actually act upon the attraction that at this point we all know is there (including characters in the story), but until then, they are totally giving more and more signs of their attraction!

I don't know when next update will come, if you have an eye on my AO3 you might have noticed I've gotten into MDZS and I'm writing a fic for it; have no worry though! Assassin's Light still is one of the fic I'm most likely to write for. I have the ideas for at least two chapters, it's just a matter of being able to have the energy and mood.

I hope you will enjoy~

Assassin's Light

Chapter 21

A growing respect formed in Rauf's heart as he watched how Allen appeared better with the light training, and how in turn the mood seemed to lift in the training area. He could tell Allen genuinely needed to do something, to focus his mind; but it came with the added bonus of soothing the mind of the Assassins.

The sooner Allen was seen around, behaving as others had grown used to, the better; and Allen had known it. It was also a silent sign of strength, meant to reassure, to show he was able to stand on his own two feet no matter if he was weakened earlier.

Still, all of them knew he could not exhaust himself, including Allen; so the young man accepted the implicit command with a smile when Altaïr walked back to them, putting down knives, and making a small sound when Rauf ruffled his hairs before going back to the trainees.

Allen watched the man go, but not for long, as he sensed the eyes on him. He glanced and sure enough, Altaïr was looking at him. Those piercing eyes assessed his whole frame, making Allen want to straighten, but that was too late wasn't it? Altaïr knew Allen was tired, though the young man felt grateful that the other seemed to read it wasn't too much, choosing not to comment.

The raised eyebrows for a brief moment were enough, Allen looking away briefly with the hint of pink.

Altaïr looked around himself, glowering faintly when he noticed a few looks, but what mattered more to him was the ease that had grown around the training field in the past few moments. It was the first time, in truth, that someone external to them, to the Assassins, someone who knew what they were, spend so much time around them.

And Allen was well liked, something Altaïr knew the young man still didn't realize. He was liked; and he showed no real issue being around them, welcoming them even. It was… a nice feeling, one Altaïr felt too.

Probably not in the same manner, he knew.

Amber eyes snapped to the side when he felt the weight leaning on him subtly. Allen smiled at him, soothing if a bit sheepish. "I'm starving," was what the young man said.

Altaïr could not prevent the snort. "Ah, you are indeed better, then."

Allen blinked. Then, his lips formed a pout as he furrowed his brows, and before either of them knew it, Allen pinched Altaïr's side. The man let out a yelp, flinching away faintly. Both froze.

Small mercy went to the sounds of training having covered the yelp. Less merciful was the blank stare Altaïr gave Allen. The young man smiled, strained.

"… I'll go inside?"

Altaïr hummed; and oh, Allen did not like that faint smile that formed at the corner of the man's lips. "I'll walk you."

And so, many tried not to show amusement as Allen suddenly marched back inside, Altaïr following close behind.

In the end, Allen spent the rest of the day in the gardens, not quite willing to nap, and feeling a stronger need to watch those that moved around the gardens, to enjoy the prettiness of nature, the gentle breeze that today brought.

Today, at this precise moment, also brought the infamous fruits of the garden that Altaïr mentioned. But Allen did not seem to mind the presence of the women, nor the manner of dress. They didn't approach him at first, the way he had simply sat himself in a corner was clear indication he had no wish for what they might offer, yet he felt their curious eyes.

It felt so familiar, so nostalgic, he almost believed he would hear his master's laughter at some point.

He couldn't let himself think about it, not when the event with his Noah had been so recent. Instead, Allen flickered his gaze toward the sensation of eyes, and met three women's gaze with a smile. It seemed to be enough for them to approach him, and none of them noticed the Mentor watching from the large window of his office.

The women greeted Allen, voice sweet but a little eager, curious eyes and expression growing warmer as they noticed how his gaze held none of the lust others directed at them. He looked at them like equals, his smile genuine and, dare they say it, charming precisely because it held no attempt at seduction. He greeted them in turn, and accepted when they inquired if they could sit with him.

"So you're the Mentor's little protégé?" One asked, still only curious, but interest bubbled in all three of them when they noticed the faintest blush on Allen's face at the query.

"I-I guess?" He saw their looks though, and he knew to be doomed. He welcomed it, warmth forming in his chest.

The women he would meet during his travels with Cross had always felt like sisters, aunts, sometimes a little motherly. And once more, Allen felt this sensation, the way these women treated him as their own.

"Oh, look at you! So adorable, with your little red cheeks!" Another teased, pinching said cheek lightly.

Allen squeaked. "I'm not!" But he saw their grin, knew he just made himself look even more adorable to them, and of course, his cheeks blossomed with a proper blush. So he took the best course of action.

He pouted, crossing his arms. All three women laughed, delighted with the young man's reaction. It attracted the looks of more women, and it was with wide eyes that Allen watched some more women come to sit with them.

Altaïr leaned against the window to view the scene better, arms crossed, the clenching of his stomach loosening. He wanted to say he had not know why he had felt the twist in his belly as women approached Allen, the sense of frustration; yet Altaïr was not blind, nor willing to blind himself.

He knew why, just like he knew how to interpret the relief when he realized Allen held no interest toward those women, and how the women themselves treated him as a younger brother rather than like the men that would visit the garden.

But he did not put it into words, not even in his own mind, and took simple pleasure in watching the way Allen's frame seemed more relaxed, his smiles genuine, at eased and comforted surrounded by women who did not see the monster he seemed to fear himself to be, seeing only a young man to coddle.

Although…

Altaïr did wonder what they told Allen, to make him so flustered. It was obviously not the women themselves that affected him, and the gestures as well as reactions indicated he was being teased. But there was something softer in the women, as if they saw something, the something that had made Allen flustered.

… Did he just glance at the window? Had he seen Altaïr?

It didn't seem so, Altaïr had purposefully remained in shadows, so then…

His heart did a funny thing.

Had they been talking about him?

Heat spread on Altaïr's cheeks, as well as within his body, satisfaction in his belly. He removed himself from the window to busy himself.

If Allen's flustered look remained in his mind, no one but him knew of it.

To be continued...