Murmurs—a voice. Burning, crying. Light searing his pupils, his skin. Crying, insistent now, Yuu, Yuu, don't die, I'll fix you, Yuu, I'll fix—

The light.

It's the sky.

Free?

So tired.

He closes his eyes.

Two minutes in time.

"She said they were flowers."

"You can't believe everyone, stupid. She could've lied."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He shifts, staring blankly at the dew-dropped petals. The sun is down, casting them in nothing but the deepest blue. He feels irrational, irritable. "I don't know anything about normal people."

"So we don't know if she didn't lie either." A laugh, and a thump into the grass. "You're so weird, Yuu."

"Tch. You're the weird one, stupid."

"Whatever you say."

"We didn't have to leave."

"Shut up." Trampling flowers under his feet, he kicks a few pebbles out of his way before stopping at entrance of the forest ahead. "We were there too long. Keep moving or get caught, remember?" Silence. "Remember, Alma?"

"She cared about us, Yuu." Quiet, heavy. "She cared."

"No one cared," he says lowly, staring at the sun. "How many times do I have to tell you, idiot? No one cared. We left, and the only reason we're still running is because we don't know when they'll find us and take us back to that place. Do you want to go back? 'Cause I fucking don't."

Ten minutes through the forest, he feels a hand lightly placed on his arm.

"I don't want to lose you, Yuu." A sniff. He still doesn't look behind.

They walk like that for a long while, two boys basked in the moon. One tall with hair down to his shoulders, the other shorter with ruffled black tufts. Both of them lean, and both of them scarred.

"I don't want to be alone anymore."

It takes twenty-seven minutes and thirteen-point-two seconds for him to sit up and cough up the remains of two broken teeth into the mud.

"That was a really bad jump, Yuu," Alma laughs, but his laugh is high-pitched, nervous. His face is half-covered in dirt and grass, and his hair, longer now, streaked with brown. "Don't do that anymore, okay?"

"We had to get off the train somehow," he grunts back, wiping off a few smudges from his face. "Where are we now?"

"I don't know." When he cocks his head and smiles, sunshine casting a faint glow on his cheek, Kanda cannot help but reminded of her. "Does it matter?"

A quick look, then a long glance away towards the town ahead. "Not really."

As long as I'm with you.

First shot at writing about Kanda, Alma, and what may have happened if they had managed to escape. Most horrible, cheesy ending ever, I know. I wish I could have ended it in a better way and slipped in more of Alma's previous incarnation, but alas. Some things were (sadly) not meant to be.