D. Gray Man – Musician
‘D. Gray Man’ by Katsura Hoshino
“Musician” by Yumi Mitora Kusakurin
DISLAIMER: D. Gray Man belongs to Katsura Hoshino and Shonen Jump.
Characters: Allen Walker, Yu Kanda, Timcampy, Mana Walker
Theme Songs: Suteki da Ne [Rikki], Horizons [Sarah Marie Mullen], Broken Wings [Tomoko Tane]
And, as promised, I’m writing the Allen-centric drabble and just for one of the reviewers, I wrote a Lavi fic. Heh… the Lavi one was pretty funny… This one’s serious, though. It’s kinda sad – but I decided that I could bring out the most detail this way. Sorry Kanda’s so sad, but… I mean… people have to have some emotion, right? Right??? -dies- I’m sorry… I usually write Kanda as a total bastard, but I wanted to write him as being actually human for once. ROFL.
Also, the spoilers: This story contains the [implied] identity of the 14th Noah, the Musician. I have no idea who it actually is, but it’s implied heavily in the manga during/after the Ark.
He let the notes fall freely from his lips and translated them to the notes his fingers lightly played on the alabaster keys; his fingertips seemed to dance of their own accord as he played the piano in the room that was solely his – only he and Timcampy had access to this room unless he left the door here – for the moment, he had opted to keep the door.
Mana, I miss you, he thought, and the notes that came out of the thought were light and even airy, as if to remind him that his father had forgiven him. Why did you leave me all alone? And why did you apologize when you died? For leaving me here? The notes were smooth now, blending together in a rich melody of unsaid sadness and unhealed wounds.
“If it hurts that badly to remember them, then don’t,” a slightly accented voice told him flatly from the simple doorway.
“Kanda?!” He was surprised to see the boy here, seeing as the exorcist hated him for merely existing. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard your music,” he replied reluctantly, and somehow, it seemed almost too honest. Almost too open. “It sounded sad.” Like you care, Allen thought bitterly.
“So why did you come here?” The words came out before he thought about how harsh they would sound, but it didn’t seem to matter. The older exorcist didn’t respond at all, just brushed past him and sat on the piano bench next to Allen. “Wh-Wha…?” Kanda stared at him for a moment, and then touched a key here, a key there… and it was a song; even if it was single notes choppily put together. Allen slid off the bench and allowed the swordsman his space until Kanda looked up at him expectantly.
“Can you play it?”
The words were so simple that it was maddening. That’s why Kanda came here, Allen realized. He wanted you to play a song.
“Ummm… probably,” he offered, shrugging and sitting down. Kanda moved away with a swish of his long robes, just watching.
Setting his hands on the keys and just letting his attention drift to his thoughts, the music slowly revolved in his head until he made sense of it and when it was ready, he just let it flow out of his mind and into the piano. The song wasn’t the choppy version Kanda had been played, unable to make the music come out the way he wanted it to, but instead it was the combination of sweet notes in a sad melody. Before he realized it, Allen’s face was streaked with tears from the music. He played softly, putting out the effects he wanted to. He wanted Kanda to feel the raw emotion in the piece that he had requested, and how it affected him if nothing else.
He kept playing until he heard a muttered ‘thank you’ and a door being shut. As he turned around to where Kanda had been standing, he didn’t see the swordsman – which was to be expected – but instead, he saw the stains of tears that had fallen to the floor.
—–d. gray man—–
As he heard the bittersweet melody that had once been his mother’s favorite tune while they were fleeing from Japan, Kanda watched the boy’s fingers in front of him, startled when they suddenly appeared to have a darker cast. Stepping silently to his side and watching him, Kanda saw the shadow of crosses on Allen’s head and knew immediately why.
It was in the kid’s file that his father had been a musician – wouldn’t it make sense if his father ‘Mana Walker’ had actually been the 14th Noah?
The Noah who had betrayed the other 13?
Watching the boy quietly, the swordsman thought of the music that he was playing and knew that for some reason, he would never be the one to reveal his ‘other’ identity. Closing his eyes and letting a few tears leak out at the memory of his parents, he walked out before anyone knew anything was wrong.
—–d. gray man—–
Day later, when Allen was back alone in the room, he had made the decision to erase the door for the present moment. He didn’t particularly feel like being bothered, not after the incident with Kanda a few days ago. Frankly, it had scared him, and he was glad that he hadn’t seen the Japanese exorcist crying – him showing emotion was a scary thought in and of itself. Sighing and letting his head fall with a thump to the keys, he winced as the loud crash of keys was amplified throughout the room.
“-ashi. Moyashi. Stupid moyashi, open the damn door.” Kanda’s voice filtered through the ark to him in the piano room.
“Since when do you make the demands, Kanda?” he asked, knowing fully well that the swordsman could hear him.
“I just wanted to say thanks,” Kanda grumbled, looking to the side as Allen softly pressed a few keys and created the door. Kanda immediately stepped into the room, not bothering to sit down (stubborn, as always) and instead handing the fifteen-year-old a paper bag that smelled familiar…
“Thank you,” he said sincerely, then turning his eyes on the bag of dango. “What’s it for, anyway?”
“For playing the song for me yesterday,” he replied, obviously embarrassed. “Thanks, moyashi.” He turned around after tossing the bag to an obviously happy Allen, only to stop short when the kid’s voice filtered through the door.
“Mhy’s miff mo imphorphanf mo youf?” Kanda just stared at him, clearly having expected something coherent. Allen swallowed the ball of dango and repeated it. “Why’s it so important to you?”
“No reason,” he scoffed, walking off. “None at all.” Rubbing his fingers over a small porcelain geisha in his pocket that had belonged to his mother, he exited the ark as the melody began to play once more.
—–d. gray man—–
“Mana,” Allen murmured, remembering his adoptive parent as he played the tune again absentmindedly. “Thank you…” He paused quietly as the sweet song from earlier began to leak out of Kanda’s tune, the one that he played every time he remembered his father. “And I forgive you.”
And somewhere inside the music, the Musician was crying.