Chapter Text
The day he finds them, time rewound for him. They both resemble the ones he remembers and seem a little different somehow. Two of his best friends, one of which wears his hair down now instead of tucked under his favourite bandana at the time, and the other, who once again has long hair like she wanted it to grow. His eyes sting.
Because. He’s waited so long. And of course, there they are, surely not remembering who he is.
Which is natural, because they’re not the same people. Just the same souls.
He knew this, even back then. He’s had 120 years to prepare himself, and yet he still finds the facts difficult to swallow.
He looks around them, trying to find any Asian man with long black hair, or even a blond man like the one he saw in his memories, but he isn’t there. It’s even possible they haven’t him yet. An emptiness settles in his chest, and he wonders. If he’s alive now, he wonders how much like that man used to be his new self would be. He wonders if, perhaps by any miracle, her soul made it back to the circle of life, an he found her in time in this life. He hopes that he is happy. Even with the loneliness that bubbles under his skin.
Even though he’s had the past century to make new bonds, none of them could replace his chosen family.
The girl before him passes by him, and didn’t take a second glance.
It’s a good thing Allen isn’t good at giving up.
“Excuse me, miss! Do you know where I can find Jerry Lee’s?”
Over a month, he came to know his old comrades’ new selves.
Lenalee most closely resembles her past self, but she’s less restrained with herself now. She’s a bit more assertive, and cares a lot about social justice. She seems. Free.
Komui runs the restaurant café with Jerry that they opened recently. Bak runs the cake shop next door and Komui and Bak often bicker in front of their shops, and the head chef Reever would drag Komui back into the restaurant by the ear. It seems some things never change.
Lavi is a librarian with his surrogate grandfather, Ru Wen Shi, even though he’s usually reading girly manga at his desk. It didn’t take long to figure out who his grandfather was. Or what he was reading, considering the wows and the “hot damn”s he would mutter under his breath.
He sees Anita on a billboard advertisement for an upcoming stage show at the theatre in Chinatown. He goes to see one of their shows, and she’s as lovely as ever. Mahoja’s martial arts are particularly stunning as well. He sees Chaoji, one of the stagehands, and he wonders if this man would still dislike him in this life.
He meets Tyki completely by coincidence at the bar, who he challenges to a card game for the hell of it. It’s still as easy to beat him as ever. He still flirts, but Allen’s practised at side-stepping that. It doesn’t take long for Road to come along and find in Allen her new favourite toy.
It takes him some more time to find the others.
There’s still no sign of him.
They had won the war.
It wasn’t worth it. Losing them.
He was with Allen until the end, right at his side. He felt like they could take down any enemy before them together. The only thing that kept his sorrow mute was the pure adrenaline of battle. Kanda’s presence was both reassuring and terrifying. Because Kanda could crumble any moment, give out the last of his life. He would lose his partner, despite how far they had come together.
When his arms fell, Kanda would be there to prop him up.
When Kanda’s limbs fell, Allen and Lenalee would cover him until his regeneration kicked in.
Tyki switched sides at the last minute, that capricious man. What did he realize?
And Road would lead lead the way, after Cross cleared the path before them..
And Allen would finally save Mana.
No, Adam.
Allen almost didn’t recognize them. But surely, there was the scar across their nose, littered with a few messy drops of kewpie mayonnaise, dragging two suitcases out of the taxi while still trying to eat their custard bun. Allen smiled.
“Would you like some help?”
“Oh, would you? You’re an angel!”
Alma is as effervescent as they used to be as a child. They shine bright, softly, like a gentle faraway sun. Allen could almost cry at the relief of his soul having found its way back together, to appear again. They wear their hair a short blond now, and wears clothes that are neither feminine nor masculine.
“Coming back from vacation?”
“Oh, yeah. My best friend and I went to see a sort of family friend in China, so we stayed there for about a month to visit.”
“Oh, cool.” Allen assumed they were likely talking about Zhu. “How was it?” Allen asked, and they settled into idle chatter for a bit.
It wasn’t a surprise to him that they would get along so easily now that Alma was human again.
Anxiety pools into his stomach as they approach the door of the building of their flat.
“What the hell’s taking so long--”
His breath hitches at the brusque, familiar voice of the man opening the front door.
The man stops in place as he sees him, eyes fixed on Allen.
“Yuu?” Alma asks, wondering what was wrong.
“What is this?” he asks, voice shaken.
“What is what?” says Alma, and Allen still hasn’t said anything. Alma looked between them, and then asked. “Do you two know each other?”
Kanda abruptly turns, dragging Alma to the elevator with their things.
Allen looks aside, as Kanda closes the door on him.
He was always a brave man in the face of violence. And yet he always ran away when it came to these things. Allen isn’t surprised.
But he’s willing to wait for this.
He’s worth it.