Due to writer's block, a series of random one-shots occur.

'The Cursed Ones' will be on hiatus until the writer discovers an idea for the storyline.

Disclaimer: -Man is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

Silver and Gold

The little golden ball flapped its wings cheerfully, hovering around a red-haired General. He was created solely for a purpose (which he didn't quite know about, anyway), but he was happy. After all, his master was kind (enough) to him, and that was sufficient to survive in this world.

That is, until he met him.

Timcanpy's first impression of the boy was a 'weak, sickly boy of indeterminate age'. As a special golem, Tim was different from the rest, who were mere metal objects. He could feel, he could express, he could do more than just a simple toy.

"Take care of this brat while I finish off some things."

Cross left more often than he did before: be it by duty, or just for the heck of it, Tim didn't really care. He had a task, and it was to keep an eye on the tiny little boy he first saw on Christmas Day.

Tim and the boy found each other's company awkward and annoying. For the boy, the golden golem was a strange flying object that was in alliance with the cruelest master in the whole universe.

For Tim, the boy was a menace.

"Go away! I don't need you, stupid thing!" Allen shouted out to the golem, raising a fist at its – or maybe his, presence. "Go back to your stupid master!"

Tim wanted to bite the boy to pieces; to chomp on his hands and face and feet and…anyway, so that he'd never say a bad word about them ever again. Insult him? That was alright. Insult Cross? Never.

With a swift motion, Tim flew in circles around the startled Allen and aimed for his hand. He dashed towards an exposed part of the boy's skin, opened his mouth, and…

CHOMP-

"YEOWCH!! That hurts!"

The golem found a secret joy in biting the poor child over and over again.

"Stop it, you stupid golem! Stop!" The albino desperately tried to punch, kick, or do anything to stop Tim's wild lunges. "What did I ever do to you!?"

You insulted my master, boy: Tim thought with a wide grin, showing off a set of sharp teeth.

Timcanpy's second impression of the boy was an 'annoying, whiny, weak – wait, he said that already – brat'. Yes, it had gotten even worse.

Sitting in a small, secluded corner, Allen Walker was a mess. His master had just abandoned him, his so-called pet golem didn't even like him, and to top it all off, a large horde of debt collectors were hot on his trail. After only a few weeks of being in care of the General, he was already wishing that he hadn't taken that hand on the day his father died.

Of course, Tim was devising another plan on how to annoy the brat.

Before he saw Allen's tears, that is.

"Mana…I miss you…" the boy shivered; it was still the middle of winter, and the weather was getting worse every single second. He even spotted a few snowflakes, drifting uncertainly here and there.

Tim didn't care.

CHOMP-

Tim bit the red mitten on Allen's left hand.

CHOMP-CHOMP-

Tim yanked away the woolen item, revealing a small hand underneath.

"No!"

Allen pulled away, but a tad too late. The golem hung in the air, mitten still within the clutches of his teeth. Staring at the red, cracked left hand, Tim slowed his munching and stopped shortly after.

"It's disgusting, isn't it?" Allen smiled emptily at no one in particular, shivering and flinching simultaneously as he remembered the pain, the tortures; the countless beatings from his past. Those screams of terror as they called him a demon, the devil's child…

PLOP-

"Wha?"

Tim rested his body on Allen's red hand. He glanced once at the boy's surprised face and settled down almost instantly.

"You're not…afraid…" he spoke as if it was a statement to himself, not as a questioning one.

As if understanding his words, Tim raised his head and bobbed up and down.

Allen cried. But instead of a frown, he smiled his most truthful smile.

Timcanpy didn't like Allen. 'Whiny, weak, annoying brat' just about summed it up, with a few additions as well.

But there is a large difference between the past and the present.

For Allen, Tim is more than just a best friend; no one can replace Mana, but he would always love Tim.

For Tim, Allen is the brightest thing he had ever seen; even brighter than his master, even brighter than the sun, or the occasional light that bounced off his metallic body.

Allen loves Timcanpy. Timcanpy loves Allen.

Because Allen is his world.

Timcanpy is strange here. A bit disturbing, I might say.

But Allen and Timcanpy share a bond even more than his friends.

And this story just proves it.

29/3/09