Okay. It took me a ridiculously long time to get this chapter out. My apologies for that. Here's to hoping that the next will be less of a drag to write.

Enjoy!

Allen rubbed his eye. It had been three days since the Earl had declared it 'fixed' – though his exact words had been more along the lines of 'restored functionality' or something – and the twinges he'd still gotten from it at first had lessened considerably. They were the worst when the eye reacted to akuma, though that was getting better too. Allen was glad for that, because once that part of the repairs had been finished he had been exposed to akuma like it was going out of style. They were everywhere.

He would never admit, even on the pain of death, that he had felt a tightness in his throat and his eyes sting when he had realized the Noah had made an effort to spare him, even though it was probably very inconvenient for them. Only Mana had ever done something that nice. In response, his aversion had thawed a little when it came to his Masters. He wouldn't go as far as to trust them yet, but they had certainly earned some points in his book for their consideration towards a 'weak, pitifully impaired weapon'. Wisely's words; not his. Arsehole.

He stole a glance at the akuma on the other end of the table. The elderly man glowed in his newfound sight, the star on his forehead overlain with an oily shimmer that told Allen that it was hidden beneath the human skin. He still couldn't differentiate between the different levels, but according to the Earl that would come once he'd gotten some experience.

Allen didn't really care. He was just glad he could now look at his fellow akuma without wanting to hurl.

The man noticed his glance. "Do you have a question, Allen?" the akuma asked. As a Level Three akuma, his current teacher – Mc-something, Allen hadn't memorized his name yet – acted very much human. According to Road, this was because a higher level generally meant a higher intelligence and thus greater skill at passing as ordinary. Mc-what's-his-name had been a scholar in Durham before the Earl had turned him, and had still fulfilled that role when the Earl had decided that Allen needed an education.

Allen wasn't stupid and had politely inquired – demanded – to know why.

As it was, the Earl had plans with Allen. Plans he needed an akuma with self-restraint for, enough intelligence to pass as normal, and one whose absence wouldn't be questioned. Allen was supposed to be perfect.

Of course, Allen had asked why a higher level akuma wasn't more suited, but then the whole incident with the exorcist had been brought up again, in combination with the fact that Allen was still just a measly Level One. Allen hadn't figured out yet why that was such a big deal.

Wisely had laughed at him and promised he would understand soon enough, which had sounded plain ominous in Allen's opinion. Wisely had laughed at that too.

Allen shook his head, absently answering the Level Three's question. "Just thinking."

The akuma nodded, resuming its reading. Allen heaved an inaudible sigh and returned his concentration to his own work. Apparently his writing and reading skills were 'atrocious'. It had taken him a while to find the word in the dictionary that had been dumped on him as reference material. Couldn't they just have said his skills stank, like normal people?

So now he was stuck doing old homework exercises from Road, plus whatever his teacher cooked up. Which, at the moment, involved etiquette, of all things. And not just normal etiquette, but upper-class etiquette.

Who on earth would ever be insane enough to invite him to a place where he'd need to use them he didn't know, though 'insane' described the Noah pretty well whenever they decided to ignore the boundaries of ordinary human behaviour. They might do it just for laughs.

'When introduced to strangers, the correct response to 'How do you do?' is to repeat the phrase. Giving an answer, such as 'Fine thanks', is a major faux pas-'

Allen heaved an aggravated sigh and hauled out the dictionary. Staring blankly at the pages he couldn't help but ponder the last couple of weeks.

Kojimo was dead. Allen didn't care. Hell, he'd even considered celebrating, only to change his mind when he realized Mana would have been disappointed with him if he did. But two days afterwards he had been asked to kill again, and he still felt that he'd made a mistake somewhere. Kojimo he had hated. The other guy he hadn't even known.

Allen had done what the Noah had asked but- well, he wouldn't call it guilt – it wasn't, he hadn't felt sick again, and the Noah had told him guilt wasn't even possible because of what he was – but that didn't erase the nagging discomfort from having killed without reason. Even if the guy had looked like he would beat the crap out of street rats for entertainment, he had never bothered Allen. Allen knew caring about others could get you killed, so he didn't care if the guy had beaten up homeless kids. Which of course should also go the other way around in that he shouldn't care about the guy he had killed.

But still...

Despite the euphoria he had felt, the entire situation grated on his nerves. Even a week and another death later.

It was bugging him.

Honestly, it was all Mana's fault. Before Mana he'd been able to walk past a dying person and only take a look whether there was something to be pilfered, but Mana had made him care. About others. About what others thought of him. About a lot of things. If Allen hadn't loved Mana so much, he would have hated the man for that.

Am I truly doing the right thing, Mana?

He didn't know. Mana couldn't tell him.

Short term solution? He was avoiding the Noah as well as he could, especially after Wisely had read his thoughts and had cheerfully told him it would get better once he'd gotten used to it. Allen wasn't sure he wanted to get used to it. No matter how convenient it could be to be able to kill without remorse.

The glint in the Noah's eye had told Allen he wouldn't get a choice.

So.

Avoidance it was.

He sighed again, glancing at his etiquette book and listlessly making a note in the notebook Road had dumped on him for his studies. It was pink and purple and Allen honestly couldn't bring himself to care. He was too used to her antics by now. The pink was actually a nice dark pink and not a headache-inducing bright one. He'd take what he could get.

"Having fun, boy?"

Allen yelped an nearly jumped out of his skin, the pencil in his hand giving a protesting creak in his suddenly crushing grip. He whirled around, a small voice whispering careful in the back of his head, which was the only thing keeping him from decking the person behind him purely out of reflex.

Allen blinked up at the smirking man, and scowled when the man snickered. Allen's eyes narrowed in thought. It had been some time since he had helped Road out but, "Master Tyki, right?"

The man smiled, golden eyes a little too calculating. That seemed to be a family trait. "Right in one, boy. It's been a while."

Allen nodded a bit more stiffly than was polite. Damn it, when would they quit looking at him like that?

"Was there something you needed, Master?" Allen asked when the silence started to stretch. Briefly Allen wondered why Mc-what's-his-name didn't react to the Noah's presence. Maybe Tyki visited the library often? He hadn't struck Allen as the type.

Tyki offered him a winning smile. Allen's brow creased further. "Can't I just be curious about our newest star akuma? Road is quite taken with you, you know?"

Allen scoffed inwardly, on the outside merely wrinkling his nose. He knew where he ranked in Road's thoughts. "More like taken with having a life-sized toy to make fun off."

Tyki chuckled. "That too, yeah."

A sidelong glance from golden eyes. "Wisely and Road seemed convinced you desired some time away from them. Not that I can't relate, they can be annoying."

Allen's shoulders sagged. So that was why the avoidance thing had actually worked. They were being considerate. Again. Probably only for their own purposes, but still.

"You know, boy, normally they don't bother. They must like you a lot. Wonder how that happened."

Allen glared at the far wall, not daring to look at the one he really wanted to glare at. "Tell me when you figure it out, will you?"

Tyki chuckled. "Sure."

They were both quiet for a while, Allen focusing on his work and Tyki leafing through a random book he had pulled from the shelves.

A few minutes later the Noah shut it with a decisive snap.

Allen pretended he hadn't jumped at the sudden sound and glared at the innocent words on the page in front of him.

"Say, boy," the Noah started conversationally. "Ever played cards?"

Allen looked up, one brow rising as he watched the practised way with which Tyki pulled out a pack of cards with a flourish, and made the cards jump from one hand to the other. He decided to humour the Noah.

"Mostly tricks, but I do know a few games," he answered, eyes following the flashing cards as Tyki started to shuffle them.

"Yeah?" Tyki smiled. "Show me."

Allen suddenly found the decorative pack thrust in his face. He reared back, startled, and then shot a sullen glower in the Noah's direction when the man laughed. A mental eyebrow rose. Allen wasn't dense. He knew he was being prodded into accepting a challenge when it happened.

Summoning his best Innocent Smile, he accepted the pack, hands a blur as he started shuffling it, steadily increasing his speed to get his fingers used to the deceptive dance again. Then he started to sort the cards, throwing them on the table seemingly at random, flipping them so the fronts were facing up. Tyki's brow rose as the randomly flipped cards came out perfectly sorted by colour and value.

The moment all cards where on the table Allen gathered them up again in a flash, resuming his shuffling to display his skill at deception.

Tyki grinned, and Allen recognized the pleased edge in curve of the Noah's lips. "Not bad, boy. Not bad at all," the older man complimented. He even sounded like he meant it. "Circus trick?"

Allen had to fight to keep his grief from seeping into his expression. "Yes," he confirmed. Allen hoped his smile wasn't as fake as it felt.

"Your teacher must've been good. Are you any decent at poker?"

"I am," Allen nodded. And carefully didn't smirk. Poker, Circus Style, to be exact. How had Jeremy, the keeper of the entertainment stands, put it again? "Nay, good sir, I ain't cheatin'. I just got the amazin' fortune ta win whenever I feel like it," he'd said in that butter-wouldn't-melt way of his to a none-too-bright patron, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and making little smoky circles in the air as he talked. Because the show was just the show, the flashy distraction for the people to remember at the end of the night. The entertainment stands that were in business during the day and the evening hours were the ones bringing in the real money. It was funny how no one ever suspected the cute shrimpy clown kid who was so happy to be allowed to play along. Whose smile was sweeter than the lollipops from the candy stall and whose clumsy fumbles were something to laugh about, and never mind that he was a lucky little shit who won by a narrow margin a good fourth of the time.

Maybe the Noah sensed some of that, because his smirk was a little too evil when he said, "Excellent! You're coming with me."

Allen's protests fell on deaf ears.

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Going out with Tyki turned out to be quite a bit different from what Allen had expected. It started with the clothes. Tyki had him dress in clothes that were only a smidgen better than the ones he had worn before he'd ever heard of the circus. They were worn, filthy, smelly, and falling apart at the seams. Tyki had, to Allen's astounded surprise, dressed in something similar, and had then rubbed something in their hair that made it look as if the closest thing they had come to bathing had a bit of rain a couple of days ago. He had also handed Allen a pot of skin-coloured face paint to cover up his scar.

It felt like coming home.

"There. That is a far better look for you, boy," the Noah had said after studying the final result, tousling Allen's grubby hair in the process.

Allen had peered up at him, uncertain. To his surprise there hadn't been a hint of malice in that comment. Instead, it had sounded more like light-hearted teasing.

Tyki had smirked down at him. "What?" the Noah had asked, trying and failing to feign cluelessness. "You looked like a puppy stuck in a tree, so out of place you were in what Road and the Earl consider acceptable clothes. Honestly, they just don't get that you can't dump a kid like you in a place like ours and be done with it."

And how would you know that? Allen wondered. He raised an inquiring brow.

Somehow, Tyki seemed to understand his unspoken question. "What, you think that all of our clan are born with a silver spoon in their mouth?"

Allen shrugged. He wouldn't have been surprised if that had been the case.

"Ha," Tyki scoffed. "No. We're not. We live as humans, until we awaken as Noah. Before I became a Noah I lived in circumstances not so different from yours. I know the low and dirty life, boy. And I know that it isn't easy to leave behind. You can get used to living in luxury, but once you've survived the streets, part of them will always stay with you."

"Now, boy," he continued, ignoring Allen's contemplative silence, "there are a few card tricks I will use that you should know about before we go out and play. Watch carefully."

Allen watched intensely as Tyki showed him a card – Jack of Spades – before randomly shoving it somewhere into the deck, taking care it was perfectly aligned with the other cards so it was impossible to see exactly which one was the card he had picked. Allen only knew by carefully memorizing its location in the stack.

Then Tyki grabbed the top card and showed it to Allen. It was the Jack of Spades.

Allen stared at the cards in Tyki's hand, and then at the deck. That… shouldn't be possible. Unless there was more than one Jack of Spades in the deck, but he had shuffled it not long before and Tyki had left it in plain sight the whole time, so he knew that wasn't the case. He had watched very attentively, he was sure Tyki hadn't employed one of the many tricks Allen knew to switch the cards around. So how had he done it? "Show again," he demanded.

Tyki did, features poker blank except for a smirk. Again, Allen saw nothing out of place. He glared at the cards and the annoyingly amused Noah.

Wait a minute... Noah. "You're using your powers?" Allen asked accusingly.

The smirk became real. Tyki clapped. "Well done, boy. You have a good eye." Then he quickly showed Allen a couple of other tricks. Allen took care to memorize them, and then showed Tyki some of his own techniques, just to make sure they wouldn't get in each other's way. It wouldn't do if they played the same card at the same time after all. That would just be embarrassing.

"Alright," Tyki stated once they were done. "Time to be off. Think you can handle a bit of American poker?"

Allen nodded with a frown. "Just tell me if there are differences in rules."

"There are a few differences in the order in which things are done, and some versions have a different number of cards, but otherwise it's nothing too big…"

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As it turned out, when Tyki said they'd go somewhere to play poker, he meant that in an entirely different way than Allen would have. Instead of finding an American bar somewhere in England, Tyki had used the Ark to go to America. The Noah were crazy, Allen decided sourly. Who the hell went from England to America just to play poker? Especially because, once there, Tyki picked seediest bar he could find. It was hardly different from the bars in England. Then again, given that all they had to do to get there was stepping through a door, Allen wasn't too surprised that the Noah cheerfully abused their ridiculous luxury.

And on the bright side, they had less chance of running into the Black Order this way. The exorcist organisation probably didn't have members in a place as far away as America.

Still, he was a bit miffed at getting dragged to a completely foreign country. The Americans spoke English, but the slang was very different from any he had heard before even on the docks. It made Allen feel far more off kilter than he liked.

"Don't look so down, boy. We're out to have ourselves some fun," Tyki reprimanded distractedly as he observed the bar he had selected. "Yes, I think this place will do."

"Won't people realize you're not normal?" Allen asked irritably, shooting a pointed look at the Noah's hands, whose dark, greyish pallor wouldn't be considered healthy by anyone not drunk or brain damaged. Automatically he checked whether his own unusual hand was covered entirely. "People will think you've got something awful with skin like that."

Tyki blinked at him. Slapped a fist into his open palm. "Good point, boy!"

Then, to Allen's astounded eyes, Tyki's skin went from ashen to a healthy, Mediterranean-looking tan. The crosses that had been almost completely hidden by his messy fringe disappeared out of sight entirely.

Allen stared, knowing his jaw was hanging loose but too stunned to haul it back up again. Tyki gave him a satisfied smirk. That, more than anything else, was what snapped Allen out of his shock. He glared balefully at the Noah. Tyki's smirk just grew wider.

"… I can't believe you did that slap in the middle of the bloody street," Allen muttered darkly.

Tyki shrugged. "As if anyone was paying enough attention to me to notice. And even if someone saw they'd just think they were seeing things."

"Whatever. We're going in or not?"

Tyki gave him a toothy smirk. "What are you waiting for?"

Tyki turned out to be a first-class actor. He played the dodgy vagabond to the T, using swift words and cheerful idiocy to talk them past the bouncer and into a small room at the back where a poker table was set out. Allen shouldn't have been surprised. Bloody Noah.

The dealer was a bit more difficult. The moment they stepped through the door the sour man gave Tyki a suspicious glare. "No funny business." He warned. Then the dealer narrowed his eyes. "The kid?"

"Stunted growth," Tyki lied glibly. He winked. "Nothing contagious. Promise."

The man grunted, but didn't make an issue out of it. "Stakes?"

Tyki pulled out a wad of banknotes with a phony smile. "I was thinking to start with this."

The game was on.

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Allen eyed five guys in white coats who had just come in. After having won a nice little sum, Tyki had them relocate to another bar. This one didn't have a backroom, but in return it had multiple tables. The queer-looking newcomers were looking around with an air of permanent nervousness and were carrying large backpacks that were made of way too much metal to be normal. Allen watched them with deep suspicion as the group approached the barman and started to ask questions.

"Who're that supposed to be?" he asked Tyki. "They're weird."

The Noah cast a subtle look in the white-clad men from behind his drink. "Finders," Tyki informed him. "The eyes and ears of the Black Order. I'm surprised they dare come here dressed in their official gear. They're damn obvious that way."

Allen clenched his jaw against the stab of anxiety that rushed through him. "Why are they here? We're in America."

Tyki shrugged. "Probably for the gossip." He glanced curiously at Allen. "Don't tell me you don't know that the Black Order has branches all over the world?"

Allen shot him a toxic glare. "I didn't."

"Oh" Tyki said, unfazed. "Well, now you do." He smirked and patted Allen patronizingly on his head. "Don't worry, boy, I won't let them get to you. I doubt they would recognize you anyway."

Allen grumbled and kept eyeing the finders warily. The group had finished talking with the barman and were now spreading out among the clientele, continuing to ask questions the entire time. From the corner of his eye Allen noticed the steadily darkening expressions of the owners of the establishment. The people the finders had talked to weren't looking too happy either.

One of the finders was slowly making his way into their direction. The closer he got the tenser Allen became. Tyki was watching the proceedings with thinly veiled amusement. Mere moments before the finder reached their table, there was a shout from a different table. Tyki's smirk widened.

"What the fuck, man?! Keep yer shitty mouth shut, ya freak!" The man who was shouting was big and burly and appeared quite drunk. He also had the distinct glow of an akuma. The finder that had apparently offended him was reed-thin and quaking in his boots, eyes moving wildly as he looked for a way out. The other finders quickly rallied around him. Allen let out a soundless sigh of relief while Tyki was very deliberately not snickering.

"Ah, newbie finders and touchy drunks," the Noah sighed with false exasperation. He grinned. "Always good for a laugh."

Somewhere in the finders direction, glass shattered.

"So tell me, boy, how good are you at bar fights?"

Allen stared as the large akuma threw a punch at the reedy finder, who ducked. The akuma lost his balance and landed with a crash, breaking a chair in the process. "Depends whether I can run."

Tyki grinned despite a bottle that was well on its way of painfully acquainting itself with his face. Tyki tilted his head so it sailed past. The man behind them swore as the bottle hit him instead. Yells and screams started to permeate the air as more and more people were drawn into the fight. Something stirred in Allen's stomach, as always since the Earl had started his repairs, and Allen shifted uneasily.

A quick glance to the side told Allen that Tyki was observing him with shrewd contemplation. Allen his teeth. Damn it! It happened once! He knew his reaction with Kojimo had been bad, but the Earl's modifications had helped! He wasn't going to lose it in the middle of a brawl! Even if the fighting was... exciting. And the sounds of violence sent pleasurable tingles down his spine.

Someone shattered a bottle and lashed out with the remains. Red flew. Allen watched until the wounded man disappeared in the shuffle. Then snapped out of it and sent the Noah a baleful glare, hating the knowing look in those eyes.

"Don't worry, boy," Tyki soothed with a laugh. "Your reaction is entirely expected." With a flourish he pulled a dagger seemingly out of nowhere. "Wanna join in? You can't use your akuma weapon yet so this should do, no?"

Allen hesitated. Were they really going to join a bar fight? With actual weapons? Tyki teasingly dangled it in front of his face, dark eyes challenging behind his smile. Allen huffed. Noah and their goddamn schemes. Setting his reluctance aside, he accepted the dagger, eyes roving over the brawling crowd with apprehension.

"Stay close, boy," Tyki ordered idly as he pulled out a pair of long knives for himself. "You may be an akuma, but this is going to get messy." He tossed a grin Allen's way. "Worse come to worse, move towards the walls and hide."

Allen didn't say anything. While he had had his fair share of scrapes, he had never been in a fight where this many adults were participating. He didn't know how he would handle being surrounded by struggling bodies, but there was no denying the excitement that was stirring in his gut.

He took a deep breath, and then followed the Noah into the melee. Immediately he lost track of his surroundings beyond the small area of about five feet directly around him. Everything was confusing and loud, broken glasses and furniture making the area treacherous as Allen stumbled to keep up with Tyki, who seemed right in his element as he slashed left and right. Allen's quick reflexes allowed him to dodge the first few blows and kicks thrown his way from inattentive brawlers, before a fist managed to catch him on his shoulder. With a snarl Allen lashed out, his sharp dagger effortlessly drawing blood. His victim stumbled back with a cry and was lost in the crowd.

A quick look around was all he had to realize he had lost sight of Tyki, before another man engaged him. Allen bared his teeth and attacked. Dodge, run, slash, everything was a blur of violence. His heart beat like a drum and his breath was fast and uneven. His blood was singing in his veins and the rush of battle was terrifying in its intensity. The world around him was fever bright and Allen couldn't deny the heat radiating from his gut as blood started to stain the floor in high enough quantities to make some parts slippery.

He had never felt more alive.

A bullet whizzed past his face, but he barely noticed it. He had caught sight of Tyki again. He rushed over, but was blocked by a man raising a broken bottle above his head, clearly intending to bury the sharp glass in the Noah's back. Allen reacted without thinking. He didn't like the Noah and he certainly didn't trust them. But so far, they had treated him far more decently than he had ever expected even in his most optimistic moments. And he wouldn't let some drunk tosser muck that up by injuring Tyki.

He stabbed the man in the back, a bit to the left and just below the ribcage. The man went down with a scream, his weight ripping the dagger out of Allen's hand.

"Nice, boy!" Tyki complimented him cheerfully as he bent down to slam one of his knives into the man's neck. He wrenched it free with a sickeningly wet sound.

Allen nodded distractedly as he retrieved his dagger, too caught in the feverish desire the battle had roused in him. He only barely registered Tyki approving grin. "Master?" Allen asked breathlessly, not even knowing what he wanted to ask the Noah.

Tyki seemed to understand anyway. "We'll continue Allen. It won't be much longer now."

Allen nodded and absently stabbed a passing fighter in the side. The retaliating blow was dodged with an quick step to the side. Bullets impacted the ground around him. Black stars appeared on the skin of the man that had attacked him before the man crumbled into dust.

The sudden hush that followed was deafening in its silence.

"Well," Tyki said distractedly, brushing a few splinters off his sleeve. "That was fun. Feel any better?"

Allen blinked, shaking his head as the haze of battle slowly faded. He opened his mouth to ask whether someone had hit the Noah over the head, when he realized he actually did. The day hadn't been normal in any way, shape, or form, but far less unsettling than any day on the ark. He shut his mouth, too surprised to say anything. Only now that it was gone did he realize how much his skin had been crawling with pent-up, frustrated energy.

He was too surprised to do more than twitch when Tyki patted him on the head with a smirk and said, "Thought so."

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After having dropped the kid off at his room, Tyki wandered the halls of the Ark. He had to say his outing with the little akuma-exorcist had been surprisingly enjoyable. When the Earl had given him orders to establish a bond with the boy that was more informal than Road's or Wisely's, he had despaired. How was he supposed to create a bond with a kid? A little brat of the streets that was wary as any scarred alley cat and probably just as vicious when pushed? But, much to his delighted surprise, the boy had turned out to have at least one hobby in common with him.

Tyki resolved to take Allen out for poker more often. He might not play for the money, but he did enjoy a good, mean game. And damn, the kid could play mean. Had they been in a more high-class establishment they could have made a small fortune. He sighed at his lack of foresight. Oh well. There was always later.

Kid wasn't too shabby in a fight either. He was fast on his feet and had good reflexes, though he clearly had little experience with wielding a dagger. He made a mental note to tell the Earl to correct that if he wanted Allen to be useful. Especially if Tyki's suspicions were right and the Earl wanted Allen to do more than an ordinary akuma's job. Kid had to know how to fight like a human if he wanted to be able to fool the Black Order.

Humming a tune, Tyki homed in on the sense of family a little ways away. Looked like the Earl was still at work. Tyki grinned. Marvellous. He had some reporting to do. And give the Earl his compliments on a job well done. While Tyki had seen that Allen had spotted the akuma he had used to start the bar fight with, his eye hadn't visibly reacted to the akuma's presence. A vast improvement, if Road and Wisely could be believed. Whistling a merry tune, he entered the lab.

Comments are appreciated. Please let me know what you thought!