strings of tension waiting to be struck
fallia


It is a bright, balmy night when they leave, and very late. After the stifling warmth of the Laroche house, the breeze is a relief. Lavi grins when he sees Kanda take a step that veers him right instead of forward. Kanda slides in next to Allen, and Lavi clambers in across from them.

Moonlight angling into the carriage washes out Allen's features. Kanda leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, bringing his fingers up to press at his temples.

"What did you think?" Allen asks Lavi, his eyes drifting sidelong to Kanda.

Kanda rolls his head toward Allen. "That was the worst ball I've ever been to," he says.

"I believe it's the only one you've been to," Lavi says, amused. "I had an excellent time, Allen." He had, for the first twenty minutes or so, until the novelty had worn off.

Kanda leans forward, settling his elbows on his knees. "She kept touching him. Ugly dress. Like this." Kanda sits back up, fingers brushing down Allen's right arm and settling just behind his elbow. "This. She's always on the right side, touching. She might as well be holding you by your ear," he says, letting go of Allen, hand coming up to the side of Allen's face but stopping just short of touching him. Allen flinches.

"Lisette," Allen says, and in the word Lavi hears a lot of things he can't quite identify."The one I'm going to marry. Yes. Thanks."

Kanda slides closer to Allen on the seat and takes him by the forearm, a firm grip; Allen twitches but doesn't try to escape it, eyes darting to Lavi and then back to Kanda's face. "She's useless," Kanda tells Allen, their thighs pressing together. Allen's eyes go wide.

"How dare you insult my—Lisette?" Allen demands. "She did nothing to you, Kanda, and even if her dress didn't suit her exactly, well, it's her dress, and if she likes it that's the important thing, isn't it?" The unspoken plea when Allen looks at Lavi again is clear, a tired downturn of his mouth, eyes dropping quickly to the floor.

"All of the girls were lovely, and I thought the musicians were quite talented, didn't you?" Lavi asks loudly.

"She didn't listen to a word you said," Kanda continues as he lets Allen's arm fall, "but she certainly expects you to endure her. Running her own mouth continually. All mindless chatter. It drives me crazy. She doesn't know anything about . . . anything." Lavi's attention is drawn to Allen's left hand, coming up distractedly to touch the place where Kanda's fingers were wrapped around his arm.

"How many glasses of champagne did he have?" Allen asks.

"Several," Lavi admits. "He kept asking for it."

"It was hot. And thirsty. And I didn't ask to watch her steering him around all evening," Kanda retorts, gesturing at Allen, his hand coming back to rest on Allen's arm again. Allen goes very still. "It's ridiculous. The same problem as always. Nothing changes."

"What?" Lavi asks.

"All of it is the same. It's just like I've been telling you," Kanda says, in a tone that carries none of his usual asperity, sitting up and speaking now to no one in particular. "No one listens anymore."

"Maybe you should relax, Yuu," Lavi says, leaning forward to pat his knee. "It was just a dance."

Kanda glances at Allen again and snorts, then settles back against the seat, still gripping Allen's arm. Allen is staring at Kanda's hand, and Lavi represses a sigh, turning his head to gaze out the window at the countryside rolling by.

When he looks back, Kanda's fingers have gone lax on Allen. Allen is still rigid, his hands curled tightly together in his lap.

"Did you understand any of that?" Lavi asks quietly.

"No," Allen mumbles, "except for the part where I am doing something wrong. Why can't he—" Allen sighs and unfolds his hands, the left one reaching over to toy with the end of Kanda's sleeve. "I wish he would try to understand." When he catches Lavi's eye he winces and pushes Kanda's hand into his own lap.

Kanda does understand, in his own boxy way—although perhaps he doesn't realize it himself—Lavi thinks, but he merely nods and gives Allen a sympathetic smile.

"You're very quiet," Allen says all of a sudden.

"Mmm, just thinking about things," Lavi says lightly. "Tired, a little. All of that dancing and carrying on. Nice, for a diversion, I suppose, but I wouldn't want to make a life out of it myself." Allen looks queerly guilty at that and turns his eyes to the window. Lavi studies him, the way the light turns Allen's eyes pale and luminous. Squeezed between Kanda and the wall of the carriage, Allen looks much younger, small and vulnerable. Lavi thinks of the appropriate amount of space that is always between Allen and Lisette. "And for what it's worth, I think that all of this is very different."

Kanda's head lolls onto Allen's shoulder, and Allen looks at him before giving Lavi a lopsided smile. "We're all a bit different now, I suppose. Grown up. Or something like that."

"Yeah," Lavi says, watching Kanda's head nod against Allen with the movement of the carriage. "S'pose so." He rolls his shoulders, stretching. "So. Now that we know that Yuu is a lightweight; whatever shall we do with that information?"

"I have no idea how we'll get him inside."

"Manly arms, remember?" Lavi replies. The corner of Allen's mouth quirks up wryly. "Or maybe we should just poke at him until he can stagger in himself."

Allen nudges Kanda, making Kanda start. "We're almost home," Allen murmurs to him. "Kanda. Wake up."

"My head has hurt for hours," Kanda mutters groggily, lifting his head from Allen's shoulder. Lavi doesn't miss the way Allen draws a breath. "Thank God."


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