Kristallnacht

Because he hated him, he was going to torture him. Because he hated him, he was going to leave nothing behind.

Hoshino-sensei owns D. Gray-man. Hell, if I did, the art would be crappy as hell. So it's good the way it is.

Just a quick note before we begin-- the Kristallnacht was a night were average, law-abiding German citizens were encouraged to rape, torture, and kill German Jews. The morning after, the Jewish streets were littered with broken glass-- thus, the title: Night of the Broken Glass (translated from Kristallnacht, if you didn't get that).

Enjoy!

"Kanda…"

Kanda jolted awake, his eyes snapping open in sync with the lighting flashing outside. He pulled the covers away from his body. One… two… three. The thunder rumbled, belatedly arriving after the flash of electricity made its entrance. For another brief instant, white light filled his room, illuminating everything within—and as quickly as it came, it was gone.

One… two… three… four. The realization of the thunder was belated, dragging slowly as Kanda pulled himself out of bed.

"Kanda, you asshole!"

Slam! A fist came pummeling into the wall, leaving a dent in the wood the size of a fist.

"Che. Damn bean sprout."

He pulled on some jeans; a black turtleneck, half-aware of what he was doing. He didn't even know where he was going. Or that was what he told himself.

Slowly, Kanda made his way out the door, descending the steps of his front porch. The night cried; the tears drenching Kanda to the bone, the drops pounding on him; telling him to stop.

He continued down the sidewalk to his car, his hand in his pocket, fingering the keys to his car thoughtfully.

As he started the engine, the rain hammered on his windows. A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky for a brief moment, and he caught his reflection in the mirror—hard, determined, soulless eyes. He smirked to himself as the light faded.

One… two… three… four… five… six.

The thunder echoed, rattling his car.

"Hey, Kanda, don't you ever get tired?"

As Kanda drove, the lightning flashed once more. He glanced in the mirror and his eyes widened as the light stained his long, dark hair silver—just for a moment. And then it was gone.

One… two.

He shook his head to clear his mind and stamped on the gas. The rain buffeted the glass; the only thing Kanda could hear—louder than the radio that didn't even seem to be on.

Somehow, Kanda knew where he was going. He knew, but he didn't know at the same time. His body moved on its own, turning in streets that were becoming more and more familiar as he came closer to his destination.

There—that ice cream shop. And there—the shop with the mitarashi dango that he liked—

Again, Kanda floored the gas pedal, not giving a damn about any of the cars who beeped at his passing. It wasn't his problem if they got killed because they weren't paying attention to assholes on the street like him.

"You asshole, Kanda! Can't you be a bit more considerate?"

Gritting his teeth, Kanda jerked the wheel in a right turn.

Parking by the sidewalk, he climbed out of his car to find himself in a too-familiar place. The shabby apartment structure seemed even frailer under the tortuous rain. Kanda found his legs moving on their own, his arm moving to brush the rain away from his eyes so he could see just where he was trying to go.

He found himself in front of an apartment too small for two people; too large for one. The door was of shabby, faded wood; the glass had several cracks in it already. The rain seemed to threaten to break it in, turning everything inside.

The afternoon sun glared in their faces. Kanda shaded his eyes with his hand as he tried to fix his eyes on the boyish looking university student fumbling with the lock.

"Che. Can't even open the door to your own apartment. Damn bean sprout."

The head of silver hair didn't turn. "Oh, shut up, Kanda. And by the way, my name is Allen."

He didn't have the patience to be formal and knock. Instead, he pulled back the arm and, with almost all of his strength, pummeled his fist straight through the door.

Behind him, the sky flashed white, filling the empty room with an ominous light. Realizing that he wouldn't fit through the hole his fist made, Kanda kicked down the remains of the door without any hesitation. He trampled through the empty, cluttered apartment, feeling the chill of the night air slither in behind him. He smirked as he came across the bedroom.

The door to this he too kicked through. Unlocked, the wood swung open and slammed against the doorstop, startling the room's inhabitant.

A head of white hair jolted up from the bed. Petrified, terrified, silver eyes stared helplessly into Kanda's own.

And that was the trigger.

In three great strides, Kanda crossed the room to the small, shabby bed. Those eyes, those enchanting silver orbs gazed up at him, pleading to him.

"Kanda…? What are you doing he—"

Kanda pressed his lips fiercely against Allen's, roughly prodding the younger teen's mouth open and invading what he had to offer. Those crystalline eyes glazed over—though Kanda couldn't tell, for he collapsed on top of Allen, pushing the breath out of his lungs.

Futilely, the silver-haired teen tried to pull away. "Kanda, I can't—"

The lips were upon his once more, and he couldn't breathe around the tongue invading his mouth, fiercely taking him by storm.

The lightning flashed, illuminating the room. Kanda pulled away in that instant to see Allen, sitting before him. He smirked at his victim through half-lidded eyes, glazed over with lust.

One… two… three… four… five… six… seven.

"I'm Allen Walker. Nice to meet you, Kanda," he smiled, his wide, innocent eyes glinting with a hint of gold in the fluorescent lighting. A hand extended in his direction.

Kanda stared at the hand, unsure of what to do. "Che," he said at length, turning away. "You're more like a bean sprout; you know, how you're as white as those baby sprouts at the supermarket."

Then he was unsure of that statement. Allen was red as a tomato, and fuming.

"Kanda?! What are you—?!"

The shirt he removed from the younger teen's body went flying across the room, half-torn to shreds. Kanda glanced down at the figure beneath him and smirked when those pretty little eyes widened in fear and shock.

A hand covered Allen's mouth.

"Be quiet, bean sprout."

Allen's eyes were focused on the board as he scribbled down the notes that the teacher explained. Kanda, on the other hand, couldn't care less. He found himself glancing over at the way his platinum hair draped over those silver, glassy orbs; the way that Allen leaned attentively towards the teacher, his lithe body bent over the desk.

Once, Kanda made the mistake of looking into those silver orbs and instantly found himself spellbound.

"Ahh… Kanda… it hurts…"

Kanda pushed forward, enjoying the cries of pain that Allen let slip through his lips; let his throat cry out.

For Kanda, there was no turning back.

It was raining when it happened—Allen, the happy kid who never, ever frowned, held Kanda and cried. The tears of both the boy and the sky stained his jacket (something that would normally have bothered him), but somehow, he didn't quite care that day.

Hesitantly—because he didn't quite know how—Kanda put his arm around the sniffling body and held it close and dear.

Kanda buried his face in Allen's chest, inhaling his scent.

It was all his fault; all his fault that he was like this. He couldn't turn back; couldn't leave; couldn't become who he was before. And it was all his fault. He had never felt this way before; had never felt this confused, this unsure of himself. He hated that he felt this way and hated Allen for making him feel this way.

Because he hated him, he was going to torture him. Because he hated him, he was going to leave nothing behind.

-

The morning found the hall of the apartment complex littered with shed rain, splinters of wood, and shards of broken glass.

Inside, the room was drenched from the night's storm. The sun peered in anxiously, trying to see who would come out of the bedroom.

Kanda awoke first, bracing his eyes against the bright rays, so different from the piercing, brief lights of the storm. As he sat up, he glanced down at the blood-stained sheets. There, in the midst of white-stained-red, was a lithe, motionless body that made Kanda's heart pound—until there; just a small rise and fall of the chest.

He rolled the body so Allen was on his back. The eyelids fluttered, flashing silver at Kanda's eyes. Finally, they pulled back to reveal glazed, silver orbs.

"Kan…da?" he asked sleepily.

Kanda's hand froze in midair, through which it was traveling to stroke the teenager's haphazard hair. Regaining his composure, Kanda looked away.

"Che. What do you want, bean sprout?"

Allen frowned. "What the hell was that all about, asshole?" he scolded gently, swatting the older teen's arm half-heartedly.

There was no response.

Slowly, Allen picked himself off the blood-stained sheets, murmuring something about going to the bathroom, leaving Kanda sitting there, alone.

-

"Kanda… I'm in love with you."

Kanda jolted awake, his eyes snapping open in sync with the lighting flashing outside. He pulled the covers away from his body. One… two… three. The thunder rumbled, belatedly arriving after the flash of electricity made its entrance. For another brief instant, white light filled his room, illuminating everything within—and as quickly as it came, it was gone.

He peeled the covers away from him, his eyes dark with resolve. Innocent, pure, silver eyes, gazing into his passionately… that was all he could see.

And that was all that he wanted.