Card Tricks: Chapter 1

ABOUT THIS FANFICTION

1.) Title: "Card Tricks: Chapter 1".

2.) Original Series' Title: "D.Gray-man".

3.) Length of story: 2,970 words (according to the site I posted it to).

4.) Genre (of my story): Humor, Action/Adventure, Slightly Introspective.

5.) Rating: E/G.

CHARACTERS INTRODUCTION

This short story of mine is actually a fanfiction. Below are the characters introduced in this fanfiction:

1.) Allen Walker is the main character of the story. He's a 12-year-old British boy in this story, and is an exorcist's apprentice. His left eye was cursed by his foster father when he attempted to ressurect him in a dark way, and now could see the souls of dead people trapped within an AKUMA. He was born with an anti-AKUMA weapon embedded in his left hand (called an "Innocence", which is also dubbed "The Crystal of God", the only thing that can destroy an AKUMA).

2.) AKUMA is a machine powered by a dead person's soul and is controlled by an evil character called The Millenium Earl. Basically, it's the thing the exorcists here have been trying to destroy.

3.) Mana Walker is Allen's foster father who adopted him when he was thrown away by his blood parents due to a deformity of Allen's left hand. He was truly loved by Allen. He died in an accident and later resurrected only to be destroyed by Allen.

4.) Cross Marian is Allen's exorcism master. He is a high-ranked exorcist (called an exorcist general) who avoids the organization he's in for whatever reasons. A slightly cruel (in a humorous way), stoic, irresponsible, and mysterious character.

Well, that's basically the characters you need to know. If it's not enough, you can always find more informations in the links below:

http://www.exorcists-order.info/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D._Gray-man


Thanks in advance for reading.


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Disclaimer: “D.Gray-man” and all characters belong to Hoshino Katsura and affiliates.

Author’s Note: My first D.Gray-Man fanfiction. I’ve always wanted to make a fanfic about Allen’s olden days while training under Cross Marian (especially the part where he did the card tricks thingy). Somehow, though, Allen’s past just got mingled in the middle of the story, creating this half comedy, half introspective spawn… I quite like it myself, actually. I hope you all find it the same. As always, R&R is encouraged and appreciated. Thanks! XD

Japanese Vocabularies:

- Akuma: literally ‘demon’, but you know the other meaning here, right?
- Aitsu: that guy.

~* CARD TRICKS *~

         ‘Away for Tunisia.’

         12-year-old Allen Walker couldn’t believe his eyes as he stared at the brief words written on a piece of paper Cross left him. The white-haired boy had just had an encounter with an akuma a few hours ago and, feeling awfully worn out, instantly fell asleep when he had barely even touched the bed — only to wake up and find out that Cross Marian had left him on his own… again. He couldn’t believe it. His master had just left him for *China* a couple of nights ago, and now he left him yet again?! “Aitsu…” he hissed as he crumbled the paper in his hand and threw it across the room grudgingly.

         Allen yawned, flopped himself onto the bed, and stared at the ceiling — eyes narrowing in a lazy manner. He had been training under Cross for 8 months now, and one thing that he learnt the most was that, if the master didn’t want to be found, he *wouldn’t* be found… The boy sighed and averted his gaze. Everything happened so fast… he thought as he reminisced about Mana’s death, his meeting with The Earl, the curse… he absent-mindedly touched his left eye. The curse Mana gave him was ironically a very good asset in his field of job.

         And then, of course, the inevitable meeting with Cross Marian, his exorcism master. He was a peculiar person indeed, that teacher of his... At a glance, one wouldn’t have thought that he was a powerful exorcist general — mainly because Cross was carefree, selfish, manipulative, flirtatious, *extremely* irresponsible, and just every other negative quality Allen could think of… except for his looks, maybe, for the master seemed to be surrounded by hoards of pretty ladies who were willing enough to lend him money without any deadline nor interest.

         The boy’s right eye twitched in annoyance. All he’s good at is flirting with women and shamelessly borrowing money! he thought to himself. Oh, well… at least I’m not going to be burdened with chores Master usually gives me or face another nightmarish training… Allen shuddered at the very thought of it. Cross’ way of training was *indeed* notorious in The Black Organization, what with his way of using ‘practical approaches’ that quickly turned into irresponsible way of teaching (“Theories? You don’t need them… just kill that akuma, I’ll be drinking Whiskey under that tree.”).

         The white-haired boy sighed again and decided to stay in the stuffy room for another minute before he got terribly bored… So, having no other things to do, he thought about going out for a walk. The clear-gray eyes swiftly glimpsed at the window. Snowing. Yes, a coat was definitely in order. Allen automatically got up and went under the bed where he kept his most precious item — a long coat. *Mana’s* long coat… He fumbled about for a while before his small hand touched the warm, slightly damped fabric and pulled it out.

         It was an old coat, really, nothing special about it. But Allen treasured it just as much. He scrutinized the details of the faded wools in his hands; gently wiping dusts that stubbornly kept on nestling themselves back on the shabby cloth. How he wished he had a case to keep it inside… But he had to settle with it. After all, his master’s habit of rapidly fleeing from one country to another only meant that he had to keep a pace with him — in other words, no time to worry about matters aside from their exorcism duties…

         Allen blinked and shook his head to clear his mind from his worries. It was not the time to be thinking about his problems; he wanted to think about his past… The boy gave a gentle smile as old memories crept into his mind. He could clearly remember it; the first time he saw the brown coat. It was when Mana had first found him — a 9-year-old who shivered in the cold of December air, rubbing petite hands together and blowing warm breaths onto them. His cheeks were red from the frost that threatened to consume him had Mana not pitied the little boy and decided to take him under his wing.

         The white-haired British boy had always been very grateful of meeting his foster father, though he did flinch once when Mana tried to approach him at first. Strangers were to be suspected, anyway. But then again, Little Allen had never witnessed a look so gentle, a smile so sincere, and voice so soothing before… The boy remembered precisely the very voice that promised salvation back then; the earnestly-asked “Do you want to come with me?” and, of course, the compelling “Welcome back home” of Mana’s…

         …He missed them; the greetings, the warm smiles, the gentle looks — he missed the one man all those things belong to. He missed Mana Walker. A single tear threatened to spill over his strangely stained left cheek, as if the cursed eye grieved over the death of its caster. Allen tried all his might to blink that tear back. There was no use crying over spilt milk; he knew he couldn’t have Mana back now. He tried it once and suffered the consequences — he wasn’t going to tempt his fate and try again… The pain was simply too much, for both Mana and him.

         The young apprentice shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Enough of that, he thought as he exhaled. Without further ado, the boy stood up from his kneeling position, went to the door, and exited the room…

         Allen and his master were actually staying in a local inn for an obvious reason mentioned above. So, Allen had to inform the innkeeper that he was going out for a while (after what happened the last time they stayed in an inn, all innkeepers across England wouldn’t be so trusting as to let any of the two went out unnoticed). Allen himself had given a grueling attempt to convince the man that he was really *only* going to take a stroll down town before the man let him go, suspicious stares following behind… The boy sweat dropped — his master was surely destroying their image (and more or less every other exorcist’s image as well) by freeloading every now and then.

         “Well, it can’t be help, really,” the boy muttered instinctively to himself. “It’s not like we have a lot of money to begin with…” he continued as he draped the coat to his much smaller body and took a step. The snow was quite thick this year, and he reckoned it was only going to get thicker. It was precisely at times like this when Mana would light the fire and sit in front of the burning woods, telling stories to Allen or simply sitting there together to enjoy the warmth in the freezing season.

         Allen gave a small frown. Why am I remembering this again? I will finally end up thinking about —

         A flash of unwanted memory forced itself into his mind; that of blood, pain, and anguish. Glimpses of strange machinery, bloodied snow, and sinister looks of an evil entity suddenly haunted him...

         The boy’s eyes widened while he quickly glanced away, as if he could drive the bad memories away by doing so. His body started to involuntarily shiver… I don’t want to remember that! he half-pleaded to no one in particular as he wrapped himself in a tight, desperate embrace.

         The boy’s pace accelerated itself gradually — and within seconds, he broke into a run; his little legs jabbing the hard snow in a frantic manner while he made a dash forward. He didn’t know where he was heading or why he was running at all, but his mind kept on giving him the urges to run… Running from the past, running from the nightmares, running from —

         “OOFH!” a deep, low voice grunted as Allen collided with someone. “Ouch…” he softly groaned as he fell hard to the ground, scratching his upper arm in the process. The exorcist-in-training was gingerly tending to his wound when he realized that he had gotten himself into another trouble…

         A big, burly man, who seemed to be in his late 40s, peered down at the boy with face contorted into an angry snarl. He furiously bent down and took his fallen hat while blurting out to Allen in the harshest, most offending tone the boy had ever heard, “Bloody HELL!! Don’t you have eyes?? Did you not *see* where you’re heading, you little — ”

         Much to Allen’s confusion, the man gave a sudden halt. His eyebrows slowly furrowed as he gave a second, more thorough look at the boy while wondering where he had seen him before. Having the exaggerative action focused on him, Allen couldn’t help but felt a little uneasy — who wouldn’t be if a stranger who was so ready to crush you into a bloody pulp this one moment suddenly changed his mind and eyed you like a hungry buzzard instead? Allen gulped — it wasn’t like *either* of them would ensure his safety in any way…

         “Say…” the man began as realization dawned in his eyes. “You are… You are the student of that rogue Cross, RIGHT?!” accused the man whose voice were gradually getting louder and more threatening. Allen slightly winced; the malice and hatred were so apparent in the adult’s tone that the exorcist trainee thought he would most probably understand the man even if he were speaking in a foreign language.

         But really, Allen seriously couldn’t remember who the man was for the life of his — the master was indebted to so many people from so many countries that the boy had forgotten every single one of them…

         It’s not the time to think of such thing, the kid thought. If this guy has anything to do with Master’s piling debts, I’m surely doomed… “Uh… Who? Master Cross? I — I Never heard of such name…” the white-haired boy decided to lie, hoping that the grown-up would fall for that false piece of information. The man in front of Allen narrowed his eyes skeptically as he formed a malicious sneer and straightforwardly asked the boy, “Oh, is that so? Then why did you refer him as ‘Master’?”

         Damn.

         “Huh? ‘Master’? No, no! I mean *‘Mister’* Cross! Or… whoever his name is… yeah… never — never heard of him at all! I don’t know such guy, really!” Allen gave a lame defense, explaining to the distrusting man with occasional gestures and half-assuring expressions — the boy was thankful that it was currently snowing, or the other could definitely see him sweating hard from being nervous…

         “Hmph,” the man scoffed. “Like *I* would believe such pathetic excuses! Come here, boy! Since I can’t find that scoundrel Cross anywhere, *you* are going to pay your master’s debts instead!” he hollered as his grubby hand shot out at Allen and dragged the struggling boy away before he had a chance to avoid the mistreatment…

         The 12-year-old soon found himself in an old warehouse of some sort; the place itself was empty with only a wooden table and 2 chairs located in the center of the dusty room. The man pulled at Allen harshly and forced him to occupy one of the chair, “Sit down, boy! Let’s see what I can get from you!”

         The man then proceeded to search Allen for money or some valuables — but of course he found none. And so, after a meticulous interrogation and 3 body checks later, the man was at last convinced that the boy had absolutely nothing to cover Cross’ debts… Allen could tell that the man was getting impatient and furious; and by how the other suddenly glared at him and grabbed his front shirt, he knew that he was right…

         “Okay, where is it?! I know you must have something good enough! Don’t lie to me and spill it! Or you can tell me where your master keeps his fortunes, at the least!” the man threatened, fists clenching at Allen’s shirt and veins popping up. Though scared and intimidated, the boy still tried to act tough and gave the man an exasperated look, “How many times must I tell you, Mister? I-have-nothing-valuable-with-me!” He then paused and sighed for dramatic effects before continuing, “And I don’t even know if my master has any fortune left!” (even if he did, Allen thought, he was sure that his master would get it first before anyone else…)

         The grown-up gave the kid a more menacing look before he dropped him in a crude manner and threw his hands up in the air frustratingly. “Brilliant!” he shouted, shaking his head. “It’s just bloody brilliant!” he added before throwing himself onto his seat. He stared into nothingness for a couple of seconds, his trembled hand above his lips. Soon, the man was absent-mindedly groping around his coat, fingers shaking from being nervous. He later dug out a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a box of matches. With much difficulty, he managed to light a tobacco and inhaled deep.

         I'm in a grave danger, he thought as he exhaled. He was truly in a rough position — the person he was ordered to look for went missing, and the student of said man (who gave him a sudden ray of hope earlier) had nothing worth taking!

         The brawny adult was actually sent by his superior, who also happened to be a local gambling master. His cruelty and tendency to not take failure as an option were enough to put the man in a state of anxiety — he knew what awaited him should he go back empty-handed, and he wasn’t prepared to take a chance…

         The man glanced half-heartedly at Allen — he had checked his pockets, his old shoes, and that coat of his, but he couldn’t find anything more than lint and dust.

         Should I just kidnap him and ask for — Ah, no… I heard that Cross isn’t someone who will care for such a thing… dammit! he privately thought. The man was frustrated; and desperate situations always led to desperate acts.

         He eyed the old coat, contemplating. That coat was aged and worn-out, he thought, but he knew it worth more than the rest of the boy’s belongings. He was even sure he could find someone he could sell it to for a couple of shillings — it was better than nothing. After all, the rest of the money he was supposed to collect was up to his luck in finding his target. In the meantime, he hoped that his boss would be temporarily content with some small change.

         The man gave a nod of self-assurance, put out his cigarette, and rose from his seat; walking slowly to where Allen was sitting. After a moment of pause, he calmly took the old brown coat laid over the chair. When he was about to go out and leave the kid alone, Allen quickly grabbed the man’s hand and shouted, “Sir! What are doing?! You can’t take that coat! It’s a very important thing to me!”

         The big guy glared down at the white-haired apprentice and shoved him away. “I don’t have time for this, boy! You should be thankful I don’t sell *you* instead! Now get going and tell that master of yours to pay his debts!” he hollered. Allen was grateful the man weren’t so bright as to sell him or anything, but he also wouldn’t let his most precious item be taken away just like that without a fight.

         “Sir…” he called out coolly, loud and clear. “What if I find a way to pay my master’s debts?” the boy said as he looked at the man with an unreadable emotion.

         It seemed to effectively grab the man’s attention for he stopped in the middle of his track and turned around to see Allen, eyes filled with doubt and underestimation. “What did you just say, boy?” he asked with mild interest. “I say,” the boy began, “what if we make an agreement? What if I promise you I can pay all the debts — by the end of the day?”

         What Allen just said increased the man’s undivided attention. “Do you… Do you mean it? Do you mean what you just said?” the grown-up asked, hope rising back in his chest. “But… But how? How are you going to do that?”

         Allen smiled rather mischievously; he presumed that the guy must be pretty desperate to believe in a kid’s words. But he made a wise decision nonetheless he thought as his smile secretly broke into a proud grin. “Good Sir,” the boy started as he flashed an angelic smile. “Let’s settle this over a deck of cards...”

~***~