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vilnius2008-04-29 05:32 pm
heartbeats) wrote in vilnius2008-04-29 05:32 pm
Entry tags:
not enough to kill me; PART ONE
WHO?! Kanda and Ravi!
WHEN?! Like maybe early November? Before the ball, maybe two weeks after Ravi and Allen's arrival in Babylon? Before Kanda knows that rhode is one of the Noah, for sure.
WHAT?! This has been sitting, unfinished, on my hard drive for literally months. I really liked this log (okay, I loved this log), but Erin and I couldn't post it because it was never finished. So I guess I'm putting it here. ERIN IF YOU EVER SEE THIS AND WANT ME TO TAKE IT DOWN I TOTES WILL. OH ALSO AS A WARNING, this thing is massive. No, seriously, it is thirty-five pages single-spaced in word, hence why I am so intent on letting someone besides me read the blessed thing.
He takes notes in that little black book narcissistic women like to hold dear to their hearts, writing every misdeed a man has done to her and the names of those she thinks will do her wrong. The only difference is his is physical and written in a smattering of different languages those around him may or may not understand.
That and it contains something about everything.
Today it's Japanese.
His kanji is sloppy and juvenile, because it isn't his native language. Regardless, if Bookman had been there, he would have smacked him.
Crack in the shop wall
Made two months ago by a man. Rage
Manifested in the form of a picture frame
Corner bludgeoning the paint
Claims the cat did it
Knocked the clock over
No one else will know
His wife has a lover
She finds him more interesting
She's flighty
And he might not be real.
Ravi stretches out on the couch in the front room, on his stomach with the little black book held in one hand and the other holding a pen. His left knee is bent so his boot is in the air and his eye is low-lidded, green like poison while he stares at the slightly-yellowed page.
This is Kanda's apartment.
"Maaaaan~" he puffs, leg falling back down to the couch while he drops his face into the cushion as if trying to suffocate himself. The disappointed sing-song tone didn't do much to make him sound serious. "This place's recent history sucks. It's all the same boring story." Obnoxious. He can't even distract himself here if he has to write the same thing over and over again.
Kanda never told him where he lived.
Ravi shouldn't be here.
Yet, for some reason, he is.
His headband is around his neck like a thick, warm scarf. Maybe it's because he isn't wearing a scarf today. "Unlucky~"
It's nine o'clock in the morning even though the sky has been the same for roughly three hours. At the very least, he's been quiet and hasn't tried to disturb any sleepers, should there be any sleeping going on in the apartment.
Kanda climbs the stairs to Taurus 404, taking each step one at a time and balancing bags of groceries carefully on each hip. It's nothing special or unusual; there's soba, of course, and the ingredients needed to make the sauce to go with it, some pickles, a daikon for grating, some rice. The selection of food available is remarkably diverse considering the circumstances the residents of Babylon live under, but Kanda can't help his rising irritation that they hadn't been able to give him fresh salmon. He's been up since four; even though Mugen is currently in tiny pieces in a bag under his bed, it doesn't mean that he can slack off, and he's gone through each of his forms religiously already, pretending that he can feel the cool wood of the hilt of his innocence pressing into his palms and adjusting for the difference in weight and balance as best he can.
He reaches for his keys, but realizes with dismay that the door to his apartment is already slightly open. His initial instincts tell him to prepare for the worst - and then he catches himself, because he is unarmed and almost helpless, and because this world lacks akuma to begin with. Frowning, he kicks the door open, not particularly caring if he awakens his roommate.
He's greeted by the sight of the Junior Bookman sprawled over his couch, muttering to himself. He exhales very slightly - now they are back into familiar territory, as Bookman training apparently doesn't involve any lessons in personal boundaries, or else Ravi hasn't paid attention to them; he has pulled this shit a hundred times at headquarters, and Kanda grumbles almost half-heartedly as he pushes the dark hair pooling over his shoulders back and begins unpacking his groceries,
"What the hell are you doing here? Who let you in?"
He doesn't really expect an answer to his question, and he doesn't actually care either way, but it's a way to avoid greetings, and that's enough for the Japanese exorcist.
When the door is kicked open, Ravi bolts upright like a rabbit, body contorted into an awkward and uncomfortable sitting position, both fists stuffed in the cushions, his dumb-founded face jerked to the left, eye wide and mouth tight like someone who isn't used to being surprised.
This is a blanket expression and a blanket reaction, because the chances are high he noticed what was going on a few footsteps ago.
The expression he wears when he looks toward Kanda is something that can only be described as a dog who has seen his master come home and is tethered to a stake, wagging its tail and waiting to be set free so it can go through all the obnoxious, slimy rituals of greeting that may or may not involve saliva all over a human face.
In Ravi's defense, he has enough self-control not to get that bad.
Like the half-moon shape it had been the night they had all met for the first time since coming to this place, Ravi mouth pulls itself into a sharp-toothed grin.
"Boss!" he chirps, as if it is the first time he has seen Kanda in roughly two years. "Didja hafta ask?" Of course he didn't. He knows just as well as Ravi does that Ravi is here because he wanted to be here and he's in because he let himself in. "Security here isn't so tight, y'know? It's like they WANT ya to be breakin' into other people's apartments!"
As if Kanda has suddenly sprouted an attachment, Ravi is behind him, making use of that nearly one inch worth of height in order to try to loom. "Hey, boss, let me help!" He doesn't really succeed at looming, but chances are he is succeeding at being annoying. "That's a lot of groceries, yeah? Y'should've taken me~ I could'a carried 'em for ya."
Kanda takes a deep breath, counts to ten, reminds himself that attacking Ravi in such an enclosed space puts him at a disadvantage, what with the height difference and his lack of a viable weapon (although if it came down to it, he could probably get in a few hits with the daikon - it'd be a waste, but it'd probably be worth it in the end). His mouth presses into a firm, hard line, cultivated through years of dealing with his frustrating General and his equally frustrating fellow exorcists.
"Well, don't break into mine, goddamn it." Ravi's uncanny knack for getting into things he has no right to be in fundamentally bothers Kanda, and he clenches his fist around the rim of one of his paper bags as he fights down the urge to go to his room and quickly check the lotus in the hourglass that he has stashed in a lock-box in his closet, to take careful measure of what's left of his lifespan and make sure that it hasn't been tampered with or observed.
He knows that Ravi hasn't touched it, though. This is not because Kanda trusts him, he reassures himself as he shifts away from the Bookman, all lithe fluid movements. This is because he's almost certain that he doesn't know. And well, if he does know, he's displayed enough sense to keep that normally permanently spewing mouth of his closed, hasn't he.
Ignoring Ravi's attempts at looming, Kanda rustles around in his bag for the last item. "There's no need. I've got it." And then, because he realizes that he hasn't addressed the gross invasion of his personal space, he adds, "Back off." for good measure.
"Allen wasn't in his!" is Ravi's defense for breaking in, which is pretty much destroyed if you consider the fact Kanda wasn't in his either when Ravi arrived. Rhode must not be in either, for if she was, then surely she'd have come out by now. She isn't the type of girl to sit idly by while noise is going on inside of her apartment.
Especially not when it's the noise of the junior Bookman.
After all, she couldn't have forgotten what happened.
There is something different in this manner of harassment that doesn't occur with Allen. "C'mon, boss~" he nearly tosses the words from his mouth like free Frisbees, leaning over to pick up the bag once Kanda is finished with it. If Kanda gets the groceries, then Ravi gets the bag. It's teamwork! "That's not scary!" With Allen, Ravi's teasing is all fun and games, taunting and harassing -- but it doesn't get quite as obnoxious.
Maybe it's directly related to the fact Allen takes teasing much better than Kanda.
"Aren't'cha gonna threaten t'cut me up, too?" There's a certain haphazard eagerness to his voice, kind of like a person who thinks jumping out of planes without a parachute is a fantastic idea. "Y'know, even just with'a butcher knife an' all that, like one'a those crazy ladies that go insane an' kill their husbands in the middle of the night 'cause they just can't stand them anymore!"
As if he can't get more annoying or push more buttons, Ravi innocently crinkles the bag.
Kanda doesn't even address the logical fallacies inherent in Ravi's excuse for why he is in the apartment, because Kanda is Kanda and everything is a calculated attempt to get in his way as much as possible. If Ravi is here because Beansprout wasn't in his apartment, all that it means is that the beansprout also shares in the blame for Kanda's misfortunes. He's getting grumpier by the second as his morning routine gets more and more thrown off course by the impositions of this intruder, and Ravi's increasingly obnoxious behavior certainly isn't helping to endear him any.
The comment about stabbing stings Kanda just a little; after all, he's basically powerless without his innocence, even if he hates to admit it. Turning to face Ravi, he glares daggers at him and grumbles, "I'm not a crazy lady, and you're not my husband. Fuck, this place is making you even more delusional than you were before. Shut up or I'll kill you."
He's still fighting the urge to beat Ravi to a bloody pulp with his newly purchased groceries, but even he is willing to admit that in comparison to his old innocence, vegetables aren't just non-threatening, they're vaguely embarrassing. As it is, he moves to thwack Ravi heartily over the head for crinkling that goddamn bag.
It either says a lot for Kanda or a lot for Ravi that he doesn't make an attempt to move or dodge when Kanda hits him. At most, he squeaks, "Ow!" and lifts both of his hands to cover his head, dropping the bag to the floor.
It crinkles when it settles, acting as the soundtrack to the way Ravi's shoulders cringe as if he's actually been hit so hard he can't stand it. His eye is winced shut and his mouth is pulled into a wiggly, uneasy expression of pain.
This, too, is probably for show, because when it's all over, his lips curve into a cat-like smile. When his eyelashes lift again, there is a clever look to the eye that says something like Of course not! You just fell for it!
"'Course not!" No, it isn't something like that. It's definitely you just fell for it! "That's just what happens 'round here, y'know? It's been happenin'! It's just a more rare occurrence -- an' when it does happen, the government doesn't let any of the news hit. Even without the akuma an' with the threat of extinction, people kill each other out of jealousy."
To Ravi, the entire thing just seems so ridiculous and sad. No matter how much he has learned to like humanity, there is still that sort of vague disdain that lingers underneath the surface, constantly reminding him that almost everyone is an idiot.
"It's kinda scary, what they control," he offers, leaning over to pick up the bag. This time, it doesn't make a sound. "Gotta wonder what kind'a people are at the top."
Frankly, Kanda thinks to himself as he watches Ravi silently pick up the bag - if you could do it so goddamn quiet, why were you so noisy with it in the first place, he almost yells, but then he knows the answer to that, in spite of how much he hates it - this is the side of Ravi that bothers him the most. It isn't the ridiculous obnoxiousness of his everyday interactions with the junior Bookman that bother him the most, it's the disquieting moments when Ravi has that flicker around the corner of his lips, that sort of half-smile that Kanda has come to equate with the knowledge that he knows something and isn't telling anyone.
It's this genuine sense and pragmatism that Ravi can sometimes display that keeps Kanda from writing him off as a worthless waste of space, and in spite of himself (and possibly Ravi's best efforts) he finds himself calming down once more.
"They can't cover up everything," Kanda responds quietly, with a carefully studied air of disinterest as he pours water into a teapot and puts it onto the stove to boil. This is how he acts when he knows something that others don't; he immediately reverts to bored detachment, ignoring completely that it's only through chance and timing that he knows anything Ravi doesn't. "A week or so before I got here, someone went kind of nuts and destroyed a couple of buildings. It was still on the journals when I got here." He can't manage to sound disinterested, however, when he adds, "Don't believe that nonsense about there not being akuma here. There's always going to be darkness and weak people who can't face it."
Moving over to the couch where Ravi was sprawled a few seconds before, Kanda sends a cursory glance over Ravi's entry, not really looking for information. He grumbles, "your handwriting is crappy," but it's more a formality than anything else, and he flops onto the couch, keeping a wary eye on his visitor.
It's with raised eyebrows and a genuine interest that Ravi's eye follows Kanda when the other speaks, taking in the simple act of filling a teapot right down to the exact heat to which the other sets the stove. It's interesting to note Kanda's breath has deepened again. It becomes more shallow the angrier he gets and sometimes it looks like his cheeks threaten to flush -- but they never do. A tundra can be found across the white expanse of Kanda Yuu's skin; the dark midnight sky can be found in his hair; ice can be found in his eyes; and glacial winds can be found in his words and breath.
It's like the western continent back in their world -- far, far to the north where all the inhabitants wear the skins of bears and hundreds of white fox pelts as coats to ward away frostbite.
Yeah, that's it, he thinks. That's what it is. Kanda Yuu reminds him of the place where, for the first time in his life, Bookman had taken him to see ice.
Waking up to a conversation is jarring. "Huh?" he says, because although he's been listening and filing away the information for later (his memory is, in fact, flawless), the crappy handwriting comment is something that catches his attention. "S'alright, s'alright!" he chirps, staying in the kitchen for the purpose of opening drawers to rummage.
At the very least, he has only begun rummaging now that Kanda is present. "S'okay~ panda's not here to see it!" If Bookman were here to see it, he wouldn't think of an arctic wonderland anymore -- it'd just be bruises and hellfire.
But there's something else that's bothering him. "Ja!" he agrees suddenly, but it's off-handed and foreign, like someone who doesn't belong here and definitely has no right to be writing in Japanese more than someone who writes German. "I know whatcha mean 'bout the akuma. It's just right now the akuma aren't here, an' that's 'cause the Earl isn't here -- and they're lucky!" A kitchen drawer opens. "They're playin' a tricky game of roulette." Another opens. "If they're pullin' us, eventually they're gonna pull somethin' like them." As easily as yet another drawer is pulled open.
Ravi leaves those and moves to bigger and brighter things, like cupboards, lifting his hands up. "But hey, Yuu... 'bout your roommate..." Over his shoulder, he tilts a look at Kanda. This has been one of the only times Ravi has regarded Rhode with any ounce of seriousness since her arrival. "...be careful, yeah? She's a little girl, but..."
What is a good way to say 'she almost killed me' in a neutral, perfectly conversational way that wouldn't make Kanda want to kill her -- not because he'd be overly concerned about Ravi, of course, but because he might pick a fight. Out of all things about Kanda, Ravi notices the fact he doesn't seem to have much consideration for the state of his life. The zeal with which he throws himself at situations is suicidal.
"...dangerous." There's consolation in the fact he already broke out of Rhode's game once. Would Kanda be able to do the same thing? Probably -- and yet-
When he turns his head back to look inside the cupboards, he exhales (just barely) a small noise that sounds like heh.
Yeah, he's definitely failing this neutral thing.
"But boss~" he adds, suddenly a more cheerful creature. "Don'tcha worry! You can come over to my place any time~"
Watching Ravi through dark, hooded eyes, Kanda debates momentarily whether or not to chastise the other boy for rummaging where he shouldn't, but determines that Ravi will rummage whether Kanda tells him to or not, and there's really nothing that he can do either way to stop him. After all, he muses, only half-angry, Ravi has never displayed any particular interest in respecting the boundaries that Kanda tries so hard to erect between himself and other people, and while it still infuriates him, he's come to accept it as an inevitability.
"It's not all right; bad kanji is a reflection on the writer's bad character," he retorts in a monotone, more for the sake of argument than due to an actual complaint. His own English characters are choppy and longer than they should be, and really probably only a handful of people can read them; Linali, who taught him, Komui, who watched her do it, Theodore, Mari, Deesha, who constantly mention (make fun of him for?) it, and Ravi, whose job it is to read the unreadable. Of all of those people, Ravi is the only one left here with him, so it doesn't really matter, does it?
Regarding the akuma, Kanda can't help but agree in spite of himself. It's what's been keeping him up at night, focused on finding a way to repair his broken innocence; the possibility that the Earl or the Noah will be wished into existence. Kanda knows better than most the darkness of the human heart and its capacity for grief, and with a city where everyone is missing someone important to them, it would only be a matter of time until the entire population could be considered a serious threat. "We'll just have to take care of that when it happens," he grumbles bluntly, right after we do something about our innocence deeply embedded in the nonchalant look he shoots Ravi through his bangs.
The comment about his roommate catches his attention; it's a good thing that he doesn't know that she's a Noah, or more importantly that she has, on separate occasions, made attempts on the life of almost all of his fellow Exorcists. For someone who tends to give the impression of cold calculation, Kanda on the battlefield isn't good at thinking through his reactions or attack plans, especially when it comes to Noah and akuma; he's certain that a good busting up will do just as well as any carefully constructed plan will, and the knowledge that the lotus is augmenting his lifespan has caused him to become increasingly reckless over the years.
Describing her as dangerous doesn't do much besides peak his interest a tiny bit, as he hasn't ever really had the sense to demonstrate fear. Raising his eyebrows at getting a warning, he snaps, "if this is some sort of backwards invitation to come visit, I've no-"
At that moment, the kettle begins to whistle, and Kanda pushes himself back up onto his feet, ignoring the complaints of over-stretched muscles as he rejoins Ravi in the kitchen.
"Don'tcha worry~ when I've gotta, they'll look REAL impressive!" That's all he has to offer about his kanji, lifting his hands from the mess-making to stretch his hands apart, as if indicating something large. "Real big, real clear, better 'n anybody's! 'Cept yours, of course, boss, 'cause you're a native~"
As it is, without Bookman over his shoulder, Ravi tends to cut corners.
Speaking of cutting...
When Kanda cuts himself off, Ravi turns his body around and thunks his lower back against the counter top, leaning his left arm along the length of it, stretching toward the stove. The clothes he's wearing are black, because they often are even when he isn't wearing his exorcist's coat -- which he isn't, because that is laying in Kanda Yuu's bed to be discovered later. His other hand is lifted so it can thunk against the side of his head, both eyebrows raised slightly and his eye giving a somewhat difficult-to-describe expression, somewhere between 'Did he really just do that?' and '...that's cute.'
Did Kanda lose his train of thought thanks to the tea pot?
Allen would have done the same for food.
It's scary, in some ways, how alike Kanda and Allen are.
Either way, now isn't time to ruminate over that. "I'm serious!" he chirps, tilting his head to follow the other while he moves. Somehow, even though he says he's serious, it can be difficult to take the junior Bookman seriously.
And that's precisely why he's doing it in that tone of voice with Kanda.
"It's nothin' like that! If I was gonna invite ya, I'd invite ya openly, yeah? Not try to trick ya or anything~ It's just..."
How to word it? Ravi's eyes travel to the ceiling, not because it's particularly interesting, but because he's searching for cracks and holes in the wall for different reasons from other people. He dislikes that he finds none.
"There's somethin' wrong with her. Cute girl an' all, cute clothes, but... I don't like it, y'know? Call it intuition."
Kanda is only half-listening to Ravi as he pours the hot water into waiting cups, reveling in the way warm, tea-scented clouds of steam rise up to wash over his face. This is familiarity and order to Kanda, and even the chattering in the background fits somehow into his sense of How Things Should Be. He’s poured two cups without even thinking about it, and he almost absent-mindedly plays with the strings on the teabags as he waits for the drinks to steep.
"Of course there’s something wrong with her; she’s got two kittens." His temper is rising again just remembering those furred monstrosities, so he takes a deep breath, draws the kanji for his name on his hand over and over until he can think again. He doesn’t believe in intuition in the sense of psychic foreknowledge of the future, and he could care less about prophesies and the like. But the intuition that comes from having been attacked so many times that you can feel the killing intent as it’s heading toward you – that he knows, respects, and is willing to listen to. In spite of the nonchalant way that Ravi is warning Kanda, it is a warning, and Kanda can sense it.
He’d ask what it was a warning about, if he thought he’d get a straight answer. But you’d have better luck trapping the wind in a fabric bag than you’d have trying to get an answer out of a Bookman. Goddamn academics, he grumbles half-heartedly to himself. Even if Ravi isn’t like the other Bookman, he’s still the same way; Kanda can threaten him all the hell he wants to, but it won’t make a lick of difference in the end.
The tea is finished steeping, and he slides one of the cups almost grudgingly toward Ravi, taking no care to make sure that nothing spills over the sides and offering no warnings about the heat of the drink. It’s almost scalding, which is how Kanda likes it, and Ravi should know that just from looking at it.
Autumn leaves.
Hundreds and hundreds of falling autumn leaves, each snapping and breaking in a certain direction, taking their tips from the wind.
Ravi paused.
Two years ago, the first time they'd taken a mission together. Kanda was already ahead of him, because Kanda had a destination in sight and didn't like to stop.
There was something wrong with the way that golden leaf out of the corner of his eye had fallen.
"Hey, you!" He hadn't yet learned Kanda's given name, but that somehow didn't make it any better or worse. "Wait up! Hold on'a second! Don't leave me behind!" He hadn't said 'we're being stalked,' because that may have prompted a premature attack, and yet...
It's these off-handed gestures that say to Ravi you're probably the closest thing to a friend he has! Then he thinks better of it for a moment and corrects himself, no, Linali, too, but she's not here, and then there's Allen, but he's totally in denial about that...
"A-actually," he begins, as if he's one-hundred percent worried about correcting Kanda when there's hot tea in front of him. Which is why, when he lowers his hands and picks the scalding, wet cup up (he's wearing gloves, so it isn't so bad; he's almost always wearing some kind of glove), he steps back a respectful step before mentioning, "That part's kinda sorta normal."
In fact, so far, that's probably the most normal thing he's heard about her.
Ravi doesn't say 'thank you,' because his thanks always come after the fact. Saying 'thanks' beforehand or even during and treating it as if it's special, nice thing is almost like saying 'thanks for throwing it on me!'
"..."
His eye wanders somewhere toward the living room, cupping the cup close to his face.
"..."
A bookman is a bookman, but...
"Hey, Yuu..."
...at the end of the day, when all's said and done...
Childish, bright, and nothing of serious warnings or worries, Ravi barks, "Where does she keep 'em?!"
He likes kittens.
Kanda takes a slow sip from his cup, opting to stare down into the steaming liquid instead of up at Ravi. "How the hell should I know?!" he barks back, irritated, "It’s not like the things are mine..."
As if on cue, two balls of fur and whiskers come tumbling out of Kanda’s room, moving much faster than would normally be attributed to baby animals with only barely-developed motor skills. Kanda’s eyes get momentarily wide as he recognizes the feathers floating behind them as ones that undoubtedly have come from his comforter, and he slams his cup of tea down on the counter and starts yelling words at the cat that he would never, ever have repeated in front of Linali.
One of the cats trots up to him, expectantly waiting to be scratched; the other one, probably the smarter of the two, makes a beeline for Ravi.
"DO YOU SEE," he bellows at Ravi, face darkened with anger. "OF COURSE I KNOW SHE’S DANGEROUS."
"Oo," winces Ravi, in the tone of someone who was just watching a game between boys and the boy smack the other clear upside the head with a very large, painful plank of wood. That had to hurt, the oo would have said in any other situation. In this situations, it says, that's gotta be a big rip. Look, that one still has feathers in its fur!
He definitely saw.
After Kanda's string of profanities, peaceful as a pacifist, Ravi lifts the cup of tea to his mouth, sipping from it as he watches the kittens amble over, one to Kanda and the other to him. He says nothing about the dangers in Rhode's kittens, because suddenly he has the idea that Kanda is probably more right than Ravi originally gave him credit for.
Idly, he wonders if the curtains are shredded.
Ravi sets the cup on the counter and bends his body over, looking at a kitten who appears to have decided his pant leg was as good of a tree as any and seemed to start making the climb.
"Hey, boss! They're real friendly!" ...as if... Kanda can't tell. They're abnormally friendly. "She's gotta be treatin' 'em right," and when he says this one, even his voice can't mask the sheer confusion, because Rhode Camelot treating anything right doesn't go well in his head after almost being killed by her. "--and they like ya! Y'know, cats usually avoid people that can't be trusted, right?"
When he stretches his fingers out, he scratches this particular kitten beneath the chin, sharp claws digging at his legs or not. "Boss, you're kinda like a cat, too~ right down to the physical build! Bet they can tell!"
Ignoring Ravi’s statement of the obvious, Kanda shouts, "I am NOTHING like these two monsters," stepping around the animal in front of him making a beeline for his own room. The kitten he’s ignored trots behind him, somehow managing to look a lot like Rhode in terms of sheer smug satisfaction with itself.
He surveys the damage; minimal, really, although it’s enough to have him seeing red at the corners of his vision. The closet is thankfully untouched, and with the exception of the bedclothes, everything appears to be in order-
That is, until he sees Ravi’s jacket on the bed, unharmed except for a few stray feathers and a suspicious clump of cat hair toward the center.
He tries to take a deep breath, but a kitten is rubbing against his leg and he almost inhales a feather.
He’s sure of it now. Allen didn’t bring him back after all. He is in hell.
Ravi likes to play the part of the dog -- the lumbering, the tail-wagging, the joking, the happy-go-lucky playfulness, the servitude, the loyalty -- but he's rather cat-like as well. It's in the way he pushes himself from the counter, bending again to pluck the kitten up in one hand, letting its feeble claws scratch his arm with little to no regard. These scratches are nothing compared to the scratches he's received in the past. It's in the way his walk, if you look right, if you see him from the corner of your eyes so you don't quite get a full glimpse but it's barely there if you're not looking, when you catch him when he's serious, has the swing of a stalking stray alley cat. It's in the way his eye is sharp and perceptive, in no way that liquid warm expression found in most dogs.
It's in the way he never listens to 'Sit, you moron' or 'Stay' or 'Get back!' or 'Back off!' and has no regard for personal boundaries, seeming to show up anywhere without a care for consequences.
Right now, he's showing up in Kanda's bedroom doorway, one hand clutching a cat to his chest and the other holding a cup of tea. He isn't overly fond of tea, but a gift from Kanda is a gift from Kanda and he isn't about to let it go to waste.
"'Course ya are!" he chirps, letting the clawing ball of fuzz climb up to his shoulder. "You walk just like a little black one when it's stalking birds, all quick and deft!" That isn't all, either. If he was smart (and he is. Sometimes that's worse than being a true idiot), he'd stop there. As it is, he continues, "You're built like one, an' you're fussy like one! And y'd scratch like 'em if y'had the claws to do it! You know, Boss, some of 'em are kind of... y'know...unfriendly. Attack you when you're not lookin', try t'kill your other pets..."
All right, Kanda decides, this metaphor has gone on long enough. He reaches down and throws Ravi’s coat toward the other boy, knowing full well that his hands are full with tea and kitten. "This is not something you should just leave wherever." His voice is shaking a little with impotent rage, and his hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides, painfully aware of the empty spot at his hip where Mugen should be hanging. All of this – the ripped up comforter, the kitten kneading little claws into his shoe, Ravi in the room with him – it’s all wrong.
If Kanda is like a cat, he’s a territorial one.
Storming up until he’s almost face-to face with Ravi, he yells furiously, "What do you think this coat is? What it means? It isn’t something you can just-" he can feel the weight of a silver button in his front pocket, and it seems a little heavier than it was a moment ago.
This is not really what he’s angry about.
He isn’t sure what has him so worked up, but he is sure that he’s angry about something.
Cutting himself off, he bends down, grabs the kitten; first by the scruff of the neck, but it wriggles dangerously, so he grabs its torso. In spite of his slighter build, he tries to force Ravi out of the room, grabbing for the door handle and slamming it shut behind him.
He needs to get back to his tea; he’s developing a stress headache.
Kitten or not, catching the coat is more important than letting it hit the floor. The sleeve flops over the kitten's head and it's startled, which is why it digs its claws behind Ravi's shoulder. "Ow!" he starts at first, but then that becomes "Ow, ow, owow owowow-" because it starts clawing its way down.
He knows very well what the coat is, so he doesn't answer: it's an akuma magnet and the pride of an exorcist. Ravi is free from such things as pride when it comes to being an exorcist because his primary function is that of a Bookman.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
Forcing Ravi out of the room works, but anyone who knows better knows this is because Ravi won't physically resist Kanda or Linali. (Allen's okay to resist, but that's just playfulness.)
"Easy, boss," he says as he steps backwards, out of the way, a coat draped over one of his arms and his hand and the tea still in the other, because he knows very well the coat isn't why Kanda's truly angry. "It'll be okay." He isn't entirely sure what's wrong, but he's more than willing to bet he has a fairly good idea. "Don't stress, yeah?"
It's tough being in an alien place without any way to defend yourself should akuma start filtering in. It must be exceptionally tough for someone like Kanda. "Today, 'cept for a few things, we're really safe. It's nothin' we couldn't handle without the innocence. So...relax for today. Worry tomorrow."
Because he must like making a bad situation worse, he says, "Y'know... I didn't leave it wherever -- I left it there on purpose!"
Once the door is slammed and the cats have made their escape and Ravi is out of the way, Kanda does his best to rein his temper in. He thinks of a crystal lake, of counting the number of stones in the wall in his room at Exorcist Headquarters, of a soothing song that Mari used to sing, of what it was like when Ravi and Komui and General Theodore were all out on missions at the same time. He knows he’s overreacted, but he has no intention of apologizing.
He storms over to the kitchen counter, grabbing for his abandoned tea and taking a determined sip of it. It’s only lukewarm now, decidedly unsatisfying, but Kanda does it anyway.
Keeping his back to the wall, the Japanese exorcist turns back toward Ravi. Even though his initial response is to get angry again, he takes a few more deep breaths, because he’s really trying not to behave badly.
He settles for an annoyed eyeroll. "What the hell gave you a fool idea like that?!"
That's fair, because as far as Ravi is concerned, an apology isn't warranted. Kanda is Kanda. That's the way Kanda is. If he didn't like those sorts of outbursts, then he wouldn't seek them. For some reason, he likes it when Kanda fusses.
Even he's not sure exactly why. It's not like Kanda's always cute when he's mad. Sometimes he's flat-out deadly. Ravi hasn't forgotten the instances in which he's been attacked by techniques that may or may not have harmed him had he not been prepared for it.
"What?" he wonders, innocent as a newborn baby question mark wrapped in a bib of confusion. He even tilts his head to the side. His earrings tip with the motion. Although they're not large or dangly, it catches the eyes of one of the kittens, whose face tilts much the same way. "That you're stressed? Or leavin' the coat in your bed?" Whichever fool idea it was, Ravi's willing to launch into an explanation. "Well! I think you're stressed 'cause your muscles are all tense! Even when ya have a full day of beatin' yourself up, ya aren't always on edge!"
He thinks about what he's saying for a moment, and lifts the hand covered in the coat to his mouth, touching it with the black fabric as if he's in deep thought. "...well, I mean, you're always on edge, but you're not always so tense 'n on edge, y'know?"
As for the rest of it: cheerfully, Ravi supplies, "The coat was there 'cause I fell asleep waitin' for you!" Which means Ravi helped himself to Kanda's bed in Kanda's absence. Wasn't that pleasant?
PART TWO!
WHEN?! Like maybe early November? Before the ball, maybe two weeks after Ravi and Allen's arrival in Babylon? Before Kanda knows that rhode is one of the Noah, for sure.
WHAT?! This has been sitting, unfinished, on my hard drive for literally months. I really liked this log (okay, I loved this log), but Erin and I couldn't post it because it was never finished. So I guess I'm putting it here. ERIN IF YOU EVER SEE THIS AND WANT ME TO TAKE IT DOWN I TOTES WILL. OH ALSO AS A WARNING, this thing is massive. No, seriously, it is thirty-five pages single-spaced in word, hence why I am so intent on letting someone besides me read the blessed thing.
He takes notes in that little black book narcissistic women like to hold dear to their hearts, writing every misdeed a man has done to her and the names of those she thinks will do her wrong. The only difference is his is physical and written in a smattering of different languages those around him may or may not understand.
That and it contains something about everything.
Today it's Japanese.
His kanji is sloppy and juvenile, because it isn't his native language. Regardless, if Bookman had been there, he would have smacked him.
Crack in the shop wall
Made two months ago by a man. Rage
Manifested in the form of a picture frame
Corner bludgeoning the paint
Claims the cat did it
Knocked the clock over
No one else will know
His wife has a lover
She finds him more interesting
She's flighty
And he might not be real.
Ravi stretches out on the couch in the front room, on his stomach with the little black book held in one hand and the other holding a pen. His left knee is bent so his boot is in the air and his eye is low-lidded, green like poison while he stares at the slightly-yellowed page.
This is Kanda's apartment.
"Maaaaan~" he puffs, leg falling back down to the couch while he drops his face into the cushion as if trying to suffocate himself. The disappointed sing-song tone didn't do much to make him sound serious. "This place's recent history sucks. It's all the same boring story." Obnoxious. He can't even distract himself here if he has to write the same thing over and over again.
Kanda never told him where he lived.
Ravi shouldn't be here.
Yet, for some reason, he is.
His headband is around his neck like a thick, warm scarf. Maybe it's because he isn't wearing a scarf today. "Unlucky~"
It's nine o'clock in the morning even though the sky has been the same for roughly three hours. At the very least, he's been quiet and hasn't tried to disturb any sleepers, should there be any sleeping going on in the apartment.
Kanda climbs the stairs to Taurus 404, taking each step one at a time and balancing bags of groceries carefully on each hip. It's nothing special or unusual; there's soba, of course, and the ingredients needed to make the sauce to go with it, some pickles, a daikon for grating, some rice. The selection of food available is remarkably diverse considering the circumstances the residents of Babylon live under, but Kanda can't help his rising irritation that they hadn't been able to give him fresh salmon. He's been up since four; even though Mugen is currently in tiny pieces in a bag under his bed, it doesn't mean that he can slack off, and he's gone through each of his forms religiously already, pretending that he can feel the cool wood of the hilt of his innocence pressing into his palms and adjusting for the difference in weight and balance as best he can.
He reaches for his keys, but realizes with dismay that the door to his apartment is already slightly open. His initial instincts tell him to prepare for the worst - and then he catches himself, because he is unarmed and almost helpless, and because this world lacks akuma to begin with. Frowning, he kicks the door open, not particularly caring if he awakens his roommate.
He's greeted by the sight of the Junior Bookman sprawled over his couch, muttering to himself. He exhales very slightly - now they are back into familiar territory, as Bookman training apparently doesn't involve any lessons in personal boundaries, or else Ravi hasn't paid attention to them; he has pulled this shit a hundred times at headquarters, and Kanda grumbles almost half-heartedly as he pushes the dark hair pooling over his shoulders back and begins unpacking his groceries,
"What the hell are you doing here? Who let you in?"
He doesn't really expect an answer to his question, and he doesn't actually care either way, but it's a way to avoid greetings, and that's enough for the Japanese exorcist.
When the door is kicked open, Ravi bolts upright like a rabbit, body contorted into an awkward and uncomfortable sitting position, both fists stuffed in the cushions, his dumb-founded face jerked to the left, eye wide and mouth tight like someone who isn't used to being surprised.
This is a blanket expression and a blanket reaction, because the chances are high he noticed what was going on a few footsteps ago.
The expression he wears when he looks toward Kanda is something that can only be described as a dog who has seen his master come home and is tethered to a stake, wagging its tail and waiting to be set free so it can go through all the obnoxious, slimy rituals of greeting that may or may not involve saliva all over a human face.
In Ravi's defense, he has enough self-control not to get that bad.
Like the half-moon shape it had been the night they had all met for the first time since coming to this place, Ravi mouth pulls itself into a sharp-toothed grin.
"Boss!" he chirps, as if it is the first time he has seen Kanda in roughly two years. "Didja hafta ask?" Of course he didn't. He knows just as well as Ravi does that Ravi is here because he wanted to be here and he's in because he let himself in. "Security here isn't so tight, y'know? It's like they WANT ya to be breakin' into other people's apartments!"
As if Kanda has suddenly sprouted an attachment, Ravi is behind him, making use of that nearly one inch worth of height in order to try to loom. "Hey, boss, let me help!" He doesn't really succeed at looming, but chances are he is succeeding at being annoying. "That's a lot of groceries, yeah? Y'should've taken me~ I could'a carried 'em for ya."
Kanda takes a deep breath, counts to ten, reminds himself that attacking Ravi in such an enclosed space puts him at a disadvantage, what with the height difference and his lack of a viable weapon (although if it came down to it, he could probably get in a few hits with the daikon - it'd be a waste, but it'd probably be worth it in the end). His mouth presses into a firm, hard line, cultivated through years of dealing with his frustrating General and his equally frustrating fellow exorcists.
"Well, don't break into mine, goddamn it." Ravi's uncanny knack for getting into things he has no right to be in fundamentally bothers Kanda, and he clenches his fist around the rim of one of his paper bags as he fights down the urge to go to his room and quickly check the lotus in the hourglass that he has stashed in a lock-box in his closet, to take careful measure of what's left of his lifespan and make sure that it hasn't been tampered with or observed.
He knows that Ravi hasn't touched it, though. This is not because Kanda trusts him, he reassures himself as he shifts away from the Bookman, all lithe fluid movements. This is because he's almost certain that he doesn't know. And well, if he does know, he's displayed enough sense to keep that normally permanently spewing mouth of his closed, hasn't he.
Ignoring Ravi's attempts at looming, Kanda rustles around in his bag for the last item. "There's no need. I've got it." And then, because he realizes that he hasn't addressed the gross invasion of his personal space, he adds, "Back off." for good measure.
"Allen wasn't in his!" is Ravi's defense for breaking in, which is pretty much destroyed if you consider the fact Kanda wasn't in his either when Ravi arrived. Rhode must not be in either, for if she was, then surely she'd have come out by now. She isn't the type of girl to sit idly by while noise is going on inside of her apartment.
Especially not when it's the noise of the junior Bookman.
After all, she couldn't have forgotten what happened.
There is something different in this manner of harassment that doesn't occur with Allen. "C'mon, boss~" he nearly tosses the words from his mouth like free Frisbees, leaning over to pick up the bag once Kanda is finished with it. If Kanda gets the groceries, then Ravi gets the bag. It's teamwork! "That's not scary!" With Allen, Ravi's teasing is all fun and games, taunting and harassing -- but it doesn't get quite as obnoxious.
Maybe it's directly related to the fact Allen takes teasing much better than Kanda.
"Aren't'cha gonna threaten t'cut me up, too?" There's a certain haphazard eagerness to his voice, kind of like a person who thinks jumping out of planes without a parachute is a fantastic idea. "Y'know, even just with'a butcher knife an' all that, like one'a those crazy ladies that go insane an' kill their husbands in the middle of the night 'cause they just can't stand them anymore!"
As if he can't get more annoying or push more buttons, Ravi innocently crinkles the bag.
Kanda doesn't even address the logical fallacies inherent in Ravi's excuse for why he is in the apartment, because Kanda is Kanda and everything is a calculated attempt to get in his way as much as possible. If Ravi is here because Beansprout wasn't in his apartment, all that it means is that the beansprout also shares in the blame for Kanda's misfortunes. He's getting grumpier by the second as his morning routine gets more and more thrown off course by the impositions of this intruder, and Ravi's increasingly obnoxious behavior certainly isn't helping to endear him any.
The comment about stabbing stings Kanda just a little; after all, he's basically powerless without his innocence, even if he hates to admit it. Turning to face Ravi, he glares daggers at him and grumbles, "I'm not a crazy lady, and you're not my husband. Fuck, this place is making you even more delusional than you were before. Shut up or I'll kill you."
He's still fighting the urge to beat Ravi to a bloody pulp with his newly purchased groceries, but even he is willing to admit that in comparison to his old innocence, vegetables aren't just non-threatening, they're vaguely embarrassing. As it is, he moves to thwack Ravi heartily over the head for crinkling that goddamn bag.
It either says a lot for Kanda or a lot for Ravi that he doesn't make an attempt to move or dodge when Kanda hits him. At most, he squeaks, "Ow!" and lifts both of his hands to cover his head, dropping the bag to the floor.
It crinkles when it settles, acting as the soundtrack to the way Ravi's shoulders cringe as if he's actually been hit so hard he can't stand it. His eye is winced shut and his mouth is pulled into a wiggly, uneasy expression of pain.
This, too, is probably for show, because when it's all over, his lips curve into a cat-like smile. When his eyelashes lift again, there is a clever look to the eye that says something like Of course not! You just fell for it!
"'Course not!" No, it isn't something like that. It's definitely you just fell for it! "That's just what happens 'round here, y'know? It's been happenin'! It's just a more rare occurrence -- an' when it does happen, the government doesn't let any of the news hit. Even without the akuma an' with the threat of extinction, people kill each other out of jealousy."
To Ravi, the entire thing just seems so ridiculous and sad. No matter how much he has learned to like humanity, there is still that sort of vague disdain that lingers underneath the surface, constantly reminding him that almost everyone is an idiot.
"It's kinda scary, what they control," he offers, leaning over to pick up the bag. This time, it doesn't make a sound. "Gotta wonder what kind'a people are at the top."
Frankly, Kanda thinks to himself as he watches Ravi silently pick up the bag - if you could do it so goddamn quiet, why were you so noisy with it in the first place, he almost yells, but then he knows the answer to that, in spite of how much he hates it - this is the side of Ravi that bothers him the most. It isn't the ridiculous obnoxiousness of his everyday interactions with the junior Bookman that bother him the most, it's the disquieting moments when Ravi has that flicker around the corner of his lips, that sort of half-smile that Kanda has come to equate with the knowledge that he knows something and isn't telling anyone.
It's this genuine sense and pragmatism that Ravi can sometimes display that keeps Kanda from writing him off as a worthless waste of space, and in spite of himself (and possibly Ravi's best efforts) he finds himself calming down once more.
"They can't cover up everything," Kanda responds quietly, with a carefully studied air of disinterest as he pours water into a teapot and puts it onto the stove to boil. This is how he acts when he knows something that others don't; he immediately reverts to bored detachment, ignoring completely that it's only through chance and timing that he knows anything Ravi doesn't. "A week or so before I got here, someone went kind of nuts and destroyed a couple of buildings. It was still on the journals when I got here." He can't manage to sound disinterested, however, when he adds, "Don't believe that nonsense about there not being akuma here. There's always going to be darkness and weak people who can't face it."
Moving over to the couch where Ravi was sprawled a few seconds before, Kanda sends a cursory glance over Ravi's entry, not really looking for information. He grumbles, "your handwriting is crappy," but it's more a formality than anything else, and he flops onto the couch, keeping a wary eye on his visitor.
It's with raised eyebrows and a genuine interest that Ravi's eye follows Kanda when the other speaks, taking in the simple act of filling a teapot right down to the exact heat to which the other sets the stove. It's interesting to note Kanda's breath has deepened again. It becomes more shallow the angrier he gets and sometimes it looks like his cheeks threaten to flush -- but they never do. A tundra can be found across the white expanse of Kanda Yuu's skin; the dark midnight sky can be found in his hair; ice can be found in his eyes; and glacial winds can be found in his words and breath.
It's like the western continent back in their world -- far, far to the north where all the inhabitants wear the skins of bears and hundreds of white fox pelts as coats to ward away frostbite.
Yeah, that's it, he thinks. That's what it is. Kanda Yuu reminds him of the place where, for the first time in his life, Bookman had taken him to see ice.
Waking up to a conversation is jarring. "Huh?" he says, because although he's been listening and filing away the information for later (his memory is, in fact, flawless), the crappy handwriting comment is something that catches his attention. "S'alright, s'alright!" he chirps, staying in the kitchen for the purpose of opening drawers to rummage.
At the very least, he has only begun rummaging now that Kanda is present. "S'okay~ panda's not here to see it!" If Bookman were here to see it, he wouldn't think of an arctic wonderland anymore -- it'd just be bruises and hellfire.
But there's something else that's bothering him. "Ja!" he agrees suddenly, but it's off-handed and foreign, like someone who doesn't belong here and definitely has no right to be writing in Japanese more than someone who writes German. "I know whatcha mean 'bout the akuma. It's just right now the akuma aren't here, an' that's 'cause the Earl isn't here -- and they're lucky!" A kitchen drawer opens. "They're playin' a tricky game of roulette." Another opens. "If they're pullin' us, eventually they're gonna pull somethin' like them." As easily as yet another drawer is pulled open.
Ravi leaves those and moves to bigger and brighter things, like cupboards, lifting his hands up. "But hey, Yuu... 'bout your roommate..." Over his shoulder, he tilts a look at Kanda. This has been one of the only times Ravi has regarded Rhode with any ounce of seriousness since her arrival. "...be careful, yeah? She's a little girl, but..."
What is a good way to say 'she almost killed me' in a neutral, perfectly conversational way that wouldn't make Kanda want to kill her -- not because he'd be overly concerned about Ravi, of course, but because he might pick a fight. Out of all things about Kanda, Ravi notices the fact he doesn't seem to have much consideration for the state of his life. The zeal with which he throws himself at situations is suicidal.
"...dangerous." There's consolation in the fact he already broke out of Rhode's game once. Would Kanda be able to do the same thing? Probably -- and yet-
When he turns his head back to look inside the cupboards, he exhales (just barely) a small noise that sounds like heh.
Yeah, he's definitely failing this neutral thing.
"But boss~" he adds, suddenly a more cheerful creature. "Don'tcha worry! You can come over to my place any time~"
Watching Ravi through dark, hooded eyes, Kanda debates momentarily whether or not to chastise the other boy for rummaging where he shouldn't, but determines that Ravi will rummage whether Kanda tells him to or not, and there's really nothing that he can do either way to stop him. After all, he muses, only half-angry, Ravi has never displayed any particular interest in respecting the boundaries that Kanda tries so hard to erect between himself and other people, and while it still infuriates him, he's come to accept it as an inevitability.
"It's not all right; bad kanji is a reflection on the writer's bad character," he retorts in a monotone, more for the sake of argument than due to an actual complaint. His own English characters are choppy and longer than they should be, and really probably only a handful of people can read them; Linali, who taught him, Komui, who watched her do it, Theodore, Mari, Deesha, who constantly mention (make fun of him for?) it, and Ravi, whose job it is to read the unreadable. Of all of those people, Ravi is the only one left here with him, so it doesn't really matter, does it?
Regarding the akuma, Kanda can't help but agree in spite of himself. It's what's been keeping him up at night, focused on finding a way to repair his broken innocence; the possibility that the Earl or the Noah will be wished into existence. Kanda knows better than most the darkness of the human heart and its capacity for grief, and with a city where everyone is missing someone important to them, it would only be a matter of time until the entire population could be considered a serious threat. "We'll just have to take care of that when it happens," he grumbles bluntly, right after we do something about our innocence deeply embedded in the nonchalant look he shoots Ravi through his bangs.
The comment about his roommate catches his attention; it's a good thing that he doesn't know that she's a Noah, or more importantly that she has, on separate occasions, made attempts on the life of almost all of his fellow Exorcists. For someone who tends to give the impression of cold calculation, Kanda on the battlefield isn't good at thinking through his reactions or attack plans, especially when it comes to Noah and akuma; he's certain that a good busting up will do just as well as any carefully constructed plan will, and the knowledge that the lotus is augmenting his lifespan has caused him to become increasingly reckless over the years.
Describing her as dangerous doesn't do much besides peak his interest a tiny bit, as he hasn't ever really had the sense to demonstrate fear. Raising his eyebrows at getting a warning, he snaps, "if this is some sort of backwards invitation to come visit, I've no-"
At that moment, the kettle begins to whistle, and Kanda pushes himself back up onto his feet, ignoring the complaints of over-stretched muscles as he rejoins Ravi in the kitchen.
"Don'tcha worry~ when I've gotta, they'll look REAL impressive!" That's all he has to offer about his kanji, lifting his hands from the mess-making to stretch his hands apart, as if indicating something large. "Real big, real clear, better 'n anybody's! 'Cept yours, of course, boss, 'cause you're a native~"
As it is, without Bookman over his shoulder, Ravi tends to cut corners.
Speaking of cutting...
When Kanda cuts himself off, Ravi turns his body around and thunks his lower back against the counter top, leaning his left arm along the length of it, stretching toward the stove. The clothes he's wearing are black, because they often are even when he isn't wearing his exorcist's coat -- which he isn't, because that is laying in Kanda Yuu's bed to be discovered later. His other hand is lifted so it can thunk against the side of his head, both eyebrows raised slightly and his eye giving a somewhat difficult-to-describe expression, somewhere between 'Did he really just do that?' and '...that's cute.'
Did Kanda lose his train of thought thanks to the tea pot?
Allen would have done the same for food.
It's scary, in some ways, how alike Kanda and Allen are.
Either way, now isn't time to ruminate over that. "I'm serious!" he chirps, tilting his head to follow the other while he moves. Somehow, even though he says he's serious, it can be difficult to take the junior Bookman seriously.
And that's precisely why he's doing it in that tone of voice with Kanda.
"It's nothin' like that! If I was gonna invite ya, I'd invite ya openly, yeah? Not try to trick ya or anything~ It's just..."
How to word it? Ravi's eyes travel to the ceiling, not because it's particularly interesting, but because he's searching for cracks and holes in the wall for different reasons from other people. He dislikes that he finds none.
"There's somethin' wrong with her. Cute girl an' all, cute clothes, but... I don't like it, y'know? Call it intuition."
Kanda is only half-listening to Ravi as he pours the hot water into waiting cups, reveling in the way warm, tea-scented clouds of steam rise up to wash over his face. This is familiarity and order to Kanda, and even the chattering in the background fits somehow into his sense of How Things Should Be. He’s poured two cups without even thinking about it, and he almost absent-mindedly plays with the strings on the teabags as he waits for the drinks to steep.
"Of course there’s something wrong with her; she’s got two kittens." His temper is rising again just remembering those furred monstrosities, so he takes a deep breath, draws the kanji for his name on his hand over and over until he can think again. He doesn’t believe in intuition in the sense of psychic foreknowledge of the future, and he could care less about prophesies and the like. But the intuition that comes from having been attacked so many times that you can feel the killing intent as it’s heading toward you – that he knows, respects, and is willing to listen to. In spite of the nonchalant way that Ravi is warning Kanda, it is a warning, and Kanda can sense it.
He’d ask what it was a warning about, if he thought he’d get a straight answer. But you’d have better luck trapping the wind in a fabric bag than you’d have trying to get an answer out of a Bookman. Goddamn academics, he grumbles half-heartedly to himself. Even if Ravi isn’t like the other Bookman, he’s still the same way; Kanda can threaten him all the hell he wants to, but it won’t make a lick of difference in the end.
The tea is finished steeping, and he slides one of the cups almost grudgingly toward Ravi, taking no care to make sure that nothing spills over the sides and offering no warnings about the heat of the drink. It’s almost scalding, which is how Kanda likes it, and Ravi should know that just from looking at it.
Autumn leaves.
Hundreds and hundreds of falling autumn leaves, each snapping and breaking in a certain direction, taking their tips from the wind.
Ravi paused.
Two years ago, the first time they'd taken a mission together. Kanda was already ahead of him, because Kanda had a destination in sight and didn't like to stop.
There was something wrong with the way that golden leaf out of the corner of his eye had fallen.
"Hey, you!" He hadn't yet learned Kanda's given name, but that somehow didn't make it any better or worse. "Wait up! Hold on'a second! Don't leave me behind!" He hadn't said 'we're being stalked,' because that may have prompted a premature attack, and yet...
It's these off-handed gestures that say to Ravi you're probably the closest thing to a friend he has! Then he thinks better of it for a moment and corrects himself, no, Linali, too, but she's not here, and then there's Allen, but he's totally in denial about that...
"A-actually," he begins, as if he's one-hundred percent worried about correcting Kanda when there's hot tea in front of him. Which is why, when he lowers his hands and picks the scalding, wet cup up (he's wearing gloves, so it isn't so bad; he's almost always wearing some kind of glove), he steps back a respectful step before mentioning, "That part's kinda sorta normal."
In fact, so far, that's probably the most normal thing he's heard about her.
Ravi doesn't say 'thank you,' because his thanks always come after the fact. Saying 'thanks' beforehand or even during and treating it as if it's special, nice thing is almost like saying 'thanks for throwing it on me!'
"..."
His eye wanders somewhere toward the living room, cupping the cup close to his face.
"..."
A bookman is a bookman, but...
"Hey, Yuu..."
...at the end of the day, when all's said and done...
Childish, bright, and nothing of serious warnings or worries, Ravi barks, "Where does she keep 'em?!"
He likes kittens.
Kanda takes a slow sip from his cup, opting to stare down into the steaming liquid instead of up at Ravi. "How the hell should I know?!" he barks back, irritated, "It’s not like the things are mine..."
As if on cue, two balls of fur and whiskers come tumbling out of Kanda’s room, moving much faster than would normally be attributed to baby animals with only barely-developed motor skills. Kanda’s eyes get momentarily wide as he recognizes the feathers floating behind them as ones that undoubtedly have come from his comforter, and he slams his cup of tea down on the counter and starts yelling words at the cat that he would never, ever have repeated in front of Linali.
One of the cats trots up to him, expectantly waiting to be scratched; the other one, probably the smarter of the two, makes a beeline for Ravi.
"DO YOU SEE," he bellows at Ravi, face darkened with anger. "OF COURSE I KNOW SHE’S DANGEROUS."
"Oo," winces Ravi, in the tone of someone who was just watching a game between boys and the boy smack the other clear upside the head with a very large, painful plank of wood. That had to hurt, the oo would have said in any other situation. In this situations, it says, that's gotta be a big rip. Look, that one still has feathers in its fur!
He definitely saw.
After Kanda's string of profanities, peaceful as a pacifist, Ravi lifts the cup of tea to his mouth, sipping from it as he watches the kittens amble over, one to Kanda and the other to him. He says nothing about the dangers in Rhode's kittens, because suddenly he has the idea that Kanda is probably more right than Ravi originally gave him credit for.
Idly, he wonders if the curtains are shredded.
Ravi sets the cup on the counter and bends his body over, looking at a kitten who appears to have decided his pant leg was as good of a tree as any and seemed to start making the climb.
"Hey, boss! They're real friendly!" ...as if... Kanda can't tell. They're abnormally friendly. "She's gotta be treatin' 'em right," and when he says this one, even his voice can't mask the sheer confusion, because Rhode Camelot treating anything right doesn't go well in his head after almost being killed by her. "--and they like ya! Y'know, cats usually avoid people that can't be trusted, right?"
When he stretches his fingers out, he scratches this particular kitten beneath the chin, sharp claws digging at his legs or not. "Boss, you're kinda like a cat, too~ right down to the physical build! Bet they can tell!"
Ignoring Ravi’s statement of the obvious, Kanda shouts, "I am NOTHING like these two monsters," stepping around the animal in front of him making a beeline for his own room. The kitten he’s ignored trots behind him, somehow managing to look a lot like Rhode in terms of sheer smug satisfaction with itself.
He surveys the damage; minimal, really, although it’s enough to have him seeing red at the corners of his vision. The closet is thankfully untouched, and with the exception of the bedclothes, everything appears to be in order-
That is, until he sees Ravi’s jacket on the bed, unharmed except for a few stray feathers and a suspicious clump of cat hair toward the center.
He tries to take a deep breath, but a kitten is rubbing against his leg and he almost inhales a feather.
He’s sure of it now. Allen didn’t bring him back after all. He is in hell.
Ravi likes to play the part of the dog -- the lumbering, the tail-wagging, the joking, the happy-go-lucky playfulness, the servitude, the loyalty -- but he's rather cat-like as well. It's in the way he pushes himself from the counter, bending again to pluck the kitten up in one hand, letting its feeble claws scratch his arm with little to no regard. These scratches are nothing compared to the scratches he's received in the past. It's in the way his walk, if you look right, if you see him from the corner of your eyes so you don't quite get a full glimpse but it's barely there if you're not looking, when you catch him when he's serious, has the swing of a stalking stray alley cat. It's in the way his eye is sharp and perceptive, in no way that liquid warm expression found in most dogs.
It's in the way he never listens to 'Sit, you moron' or 'Stay' or 'Get back!' or 'Back off!' and has no regard for personal boundaries, seeming to show up anywhere without a care for consequences.
Right now, he's showing up in Kanda's bedroom doorway, one hand clutching a cat to his chest and the other holding a cup of tea. He isn't overly fond of tea, but a gift from Kanda is a gift from Kanda and he isn't about to let it go to waste.
"'Course ya are!" he chirps, letting the clawing ball of fuzz climb up to his shoulder. "You walk just like a little black one when it's stalking birds, all quick and deft!" That isn't all, either. If he was smart (and he is. Sometimes that's worse than being a true idiot), he'd stop there. As it is, he continues, "You're built like one, an' you're fussy like one! And y'd scratch like 'em if y'had the claws to do it! You know, Boss, some of 'em are kind of... y'know...unfriendly. Attack you when you're not lookin', try t'kill your other pets..."
All right, Kanda decides, this metaphor has gone on long enough. He reaches down and throws Ravi’s coat toward the other boy, knowing full well that his hands are full with tea and kitten. "This is not something you should just leave wherever." His voice is shaking a little with impotent rage, and his hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides, painfully aware of the empty spot at his hip where Mugen should be hanging. All of this – the ripped up comforter, the kitten kneading little claws into his shoe, Ravi in the room with him – it’s all wrong.
If Kanda is like a cat, he’s a territorial one.
Storming up until he’s almost face-to face with Ravi, he yells furiously, "What do you think this coat is? What it means? It isn’t something you can just-" he can feel the weight of a silver button in his front pocket, and it seems a little heavier than it was a moment ago.
This is not really what he’s angry about.
He isn’t sure what has him so worked up, but he is sure that he’s angry about something.
Cutting himself off, he bends down, grabs the kitten; first by the scruff of the neck, but it wriggles dangerously, so he grabs its torso. In spite of his slighter build, he tries to force Ravi out of the room, grabbing for the door handle and slamming it shut behind him.
He needs to get back to his tea; he’s developing a stress headache.
Kitten or not, catching the coat is more important than letting it hit the floor. The sleeve flops over the kitten's head and it's startled, which is why it digs its claws behind Ravi's shoulder. "Ow!" he starts at first, but then that becomes "Ow, ow, owow owowow-" because it starts clawing its way down.
He knows very well what the coat is, so he doesn't answer: it's an akuma magnet and the pride of an exorcist. Ravi is free from such things as pride when it comes to being an exorcist because his primary function is that of a Bookman.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
Forcing Ravi out of the room works, but anyone who knows better knows this is because Ravi won't physically resist Kanda or Linali. (Allen's okay to resist, but that's just playfulness.)
"Easy, boss," he says as he steps backwards, out of the way, a coat draped over one of his arms and his hand and the tea still in the other, because he knows very well the coat isn't why Kanda's truly angry. "It'll be okay." He isn't entirely sure what's wrong, but he's more than willing to bet he has a fairly good idea. "Don't stress, yeah?"
It's tough being in an alien place without any way to defend yourself should akuma start filtering in. It must be exceptionally tough for someone like Kanda. "Today, 'cept for a few things, we're really safe. It's nothin' we couldn't handle without the innocence. So...relax for today. Worry tomorrow."
Because he must like making a bad situation worse, he says, "Y'know... I didn't leave it wherever -- I left it there on purpose!"
Once the door is slammed and the cats have made their escape and Ravi is out of the way, Kanda does his best to rein his temper in. He thinks of a crystal lake, of counting the number of stones in the wall in his room at Exorcist Headquarters, of a soothing song that Mari used to sing, of what it was like when Ravi and Komui and General Theodore were all out on missions at the same time. He knows he’s overreacted, but he has no intention of apologizing.
He storms over to the kitchen counter, grabbing for his abandoned tea and taking a determined sip of it. It’s only lukewarm now, decidedly unsatisfying, but Kanda does it anyway.
Keeping his back to the wall, the Japanese exorcist turns back toward Ravi. Even though his initial response is to get angry again, he takes a few more deep breaths, because he’s really trying not to behave badly.
He settles for an annoyed eyeroll. "What the hell gave you a fool idea like that?!"
That's fair, because as far as Ravi is concerned, an apology isn't warranted. Kanda is Kanda. That's the way Kanda is. If he didn't like those sorts of outbursts, then he wouldn't seek them. For some reason, he likes it when Kanda fusses.
Even he's not sure exactly why. It's not like Kanda's always cute when he's mad. Sometimes he's flat-out deadly. Ravi hasn't forgotten the instances in which he's been attacked by techniques that may or may not have harmed him had he not been prepared for it.
"What?" he wonders, innocent as a newborn baby question mark wrapped in a bib of confusion. He even tilts his head to the side. His earrings tip with the motion. Although they're not large or dangly, it catches the eyes of one of the kittens, whose face tilts much the same way. "That you're stressed? Or leavin' the coat in your bed?" Whichever fool idea it was, Ravi's willing to launch into an explanation. "Well! I think you're stressed 'cause your muscles are all tense! Even when ya have a full day of beatin' yourself up, ya aren't always on edge!"
He thinks about what he's saying for a moment, and lifts the hand covered in the coat to his mouth, touching it with the black fabric as if he's in deep thought. "...well, I mean, you're always on edge, but you're not always so tense 'n on edge, y'know?"
As for the rest of it: cheerfully, Ravi supplies, "The coat was there 'cause I fell asleep waitin' for you!" Which means Ravi helped himself to Kanda's bed in Kanda's absence. Wasn't that pleasant?
PART TWO!