Hm... I doubt this is canonical, but ah well... I couldn't resist Aren-kun angstiness~

Warning: not much I don't think

Disclaimer: Aren-kun and Two Spots belong to Katsura Hoshino... and so does Neah and anyone else who shows up in this fic

Getting up every morning was a challenge for Allen. He would open his eyes and blink a few times, seeing the familiar cracks that lined the ceiling of his room, and for a moment he would look forward to getting up and having a hot shower before breakfast. And then he would remember… remember Two Spots, who was curled up on a cot on the other side of the room… remember Rouvelier and his surveillance, his suspicion of Allen… and remember that… that thing that followed him… haunted him. Just getting through the day now was a trial.

This morning was no different.

As he stood before the mirror all the happiness drained helplessly out of him. His huge silver eyes stared back at him, looking dulled, dark circles beneath them. The sight of his scar made him flinch, remembering… remembering…

And the image floating above his head, pantomiming his every movement… it was still there. It was always there, even though he could only see it in a reflective surface. It hung over his shoulder like an oppressive shadow, marking him as stained, as one of them. And it frightened Allen more than he cared to admit.

There was little shape to it, his personal demon, but the swirls of darkness were cut only by the blindingly white grin that stretched across what must've been the shadow's head, a grin so reminiscent of the Earl's that it sent shivers up Allen's spine just to look at it. And its eyes were white also, staring unblinkingly down at him from their vantage unmovable in the mirror.

Allen hated it. More than anything, he wished it would go away.

Seeing his own reflection now, Allen looked haggard and worn. He tried to smile, but the grin came out sour and false. Would anyone be able to tell?

What's happening to me? His head bowed until his forehead touched the cool glass. Why is this happening to me? Why me?

An irrational surge of anger shot through him as he shoved himself away, turning his back on his reflection: the reflection of both himself and… it… the Fourteenth. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't it have been someone else, someone who wasn't an exorcist, someone who wasn't… who wasn't…

Someone who wasn't Mana's son. Someone who had nothing to do with Mana at all. Someone who was inconsequential and far off, who would be glad to have this shadow.

Just thinking about his foster father made Allen was to cry. He wouldn't, though. He would be strong. He had always been strong, always put on a tough front and walked his path without hesitation, never wavering or hesitating.

Until now.

Glancing over his shoulder with haunted eyes, Allen reached out towards his reflection, brushing the pale fingers of his right hand on the surface, watching the tired, ragged Allen do the same. And the Fourteenth behind him, expression never wavering, leaning closer as if to reach out and…

Sharply, he pulled away. And then he stared at the Fourteenth.

I wonder… was it ever me that Mana loved?

The sound of the door opening seconds later brought both relief and agony to Allen. He clenched his eyes shut for a brief moment, and when he opened them a cheery smile wiped the fatigue from his face. Shutters closed over the sorrow and fear in his eyes. It was Allen Walker who stared back at him, the Allen Walker that the Black Order knew, that his friends knew and loved. It wasn't him staring back, and it needed to stay that way.

Link appeared over his shoulder, lurking behind his ever-present shadow. "You should have woken me up," he snapped churlishly, walking towards the sinks with that familiar arrogance which came from his seniority over Allen. "You're not supposed to be wondering off on your own."

Afraid I'll rip someone's head off? Or maybe I'll start flying around destroying the Order and tossing people through windows. It's only my home after all. Resentment bubbled up inside him. Resentment for this stupid nineteen-year-old babysitter who stalked him everywhere he went, and resentment for his friends who were too blind to see what was going on, though they supposedly "knew" him. Or maybe they just didn't care.

But most of all, he resented that shadow. For a brief moment he glared up at it before steeling his features into his clownish mask once more. He turned to Link, grinning brightly. "Good morning to you, too, Howard. How did you sleep?"

There was a noncommittal grumble from his evidently non-morning-person companion, who took up his toothbrush with little enthusiasm and sent a baleful glance towards his charge. Allen wondered if Link wanted to be away from him as much as he sometimes wanted to be away from Link.

They stood in silence for a few moments, ignoring each other. And then Two Spots finished his tooth-brushing and fiddled with his garments for a few minutes. Allen took the time to stare blankly into the mirror again, helplessly drawn to it, though he wished he could shatter every single one in the Headquarters so he'd never have to look into one every again.

Did Mana ever love me? He wanted to ask the shadow which hung over his head and heart, which seemed to leech off of him somehow and dull any bit of happiness which he might have found in his life. Or did he just love you?

Allen's reflection didn't belong to him anymore. For a moment he saw himself with the same dark appearance as one of them—a Noah—and heard the faintest of whispers, his name brushing gently, lyrically against his mind, almost temptingly. His grin faded, but the smile of that dark creature didn't. It widened and widened, and its golden eyes narrowed almost threateningly.

That wasn't him… that was the Fourteenth. That was Mana's brother.

Did he ever love me at all…?

All those things they had done… all the words Mana had said to him… all the times he had curled up in the man's arms or held his hand… were they all a lie? Were they all meant for that wickedly grinning creature staring back at him from his reflection?

Allen was relieved when Link finished his preening. He was relieved to be away from the mirror again for another whole day until he would need to face it again. Plastering a fake smile on his lips, he walked onwards as he had promised. He would continue to walk, if only to please Mana. As long as he had Mana's love, he would have the strength to keep going. If there was one thing he didn't think he could bear, it was losing the memory of the one person who had truly accepted and cared for him… loved him.

As long as he didn't have to face the mirror—as long as he could continue to look away—he could pretend that those questions—those questions whose answers had the unimaginable power to tilt and twist his world—didn't exist.

But they were always there in the back of his mind, waiting with that darkness which never left him. Allen sometimes wondered if someday running away wouldn't be enough anymore. What would he do then?

Allen closed his eyes tightly. He didn't want to think about it.

Poor Allen. His life is so very unfair (which is partially what makes it so fun to write about)

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