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Opsimath	By : ErinyesWyrd Category: +. to F > D. Gray Man Views: 2639 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or story of D-Gray man, and I make no money off of this story. All characters belong to Ms. Hoshino.

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Disclaimer: I do not own D-Gray Man, or any of the characters therein, and I make no profit from this story, all characters and belong to Ms. Hoshino etc etc.

This is my first D-Gray Man fanfic, so I do hope not to disappoint. Reviews are greatly desired, and make me very happy. Please make me happy! /shameless

Opsimath-Late Learner

The Greek word for "late" (adv.) is opse which, when used in combination, becomes opsi. "Math," is derived from the Greek verb manthano (to learn).

-Dr. Bill Long

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It was hot in the train compartment, stifling, even the open windows failed to aid in cooling the passengers fanning themselves in vain. The sun was climbing higher as noon approached, which meant the day was only going to become more unpleasant. Smoke curled around the room, filtering in from other compartments along with the sound of conversations, laughter, and the scent of the dining car only a short walk away. Outside, the landscape was dry and arid, trees and shrubs dotted the passing scenery, deep flashes of green against the almost grassless soil.

Kanda grimaced as he felt a few beads of sweat make their way down his back. He felt disgusting, and the exorcist jacket he wore was beginning to stick in ways that only served to heighten his discomfort. If this mission proved to be a red herring and there was no innocence to be found…it wasn’t worth contemplating at this point, they were already near the village in the intelligence reports. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his seat slowly, lazily, and glanced to the side regarding his partner on this mission. The haze of the room curled possessively around the white head of hair, and Kanda breathed in deeply, eyes slitting as he attempted to stave off the lethargy seeping into his very bones. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from the corners of his awareness, and focused on the object of his contemplation.

Said white haired man was engrossed in a spread of food that made Kanda’s stomach clench unpleasantly. Unpleasant. That, Kanda mused in irritation, was how to sum up this whole mission so far. How could the bean sprout eat when it was this damn hot? Granted, the food, ‘tapas’, as Allen had informed him-smelled the slightest bit appetizing. There was no Soba to be had in the south of Spain, a fact that had not escaped Kanda’s notice. The boy-no, the man now, Kanda conceded, and even in his mind, the concession grated with grudging respect-the man ate as if he had some sort of black hole between his mouth and his stomach.

Allen blinked, suddenly aware that he was being watched, and he turned in his seat, fixing Kanda with an inquisitive stare as he paused his mad dash to eat as much as possible before they reached their destination. Grey eyes locked with deep sapphire, clear, and sharp like the sword at the samurai’s side, and the room felt a little smaller, and a little hotter. Allen blinked slowly, that small moment of silence stretching between them in the sluggish heat of the train compartment. The moment was broken though, as Kanda’s lips pulled into a thin line, and Allen swore he bristled-rather like an angry cat.

Having been caught staring, Kanda did what he always did when confronted by those grey eyes. He slid easily into a comfortable facade, a facade that did not cloud his reason, did not make him question, did not make him regret that his life may end before it ever started, attachment was pointless. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, as hazy as the train compartment, and as insidious as smoke curling under a door, a strange something had begun to take hold of Kanda, but he pushed it down, squashed it with all of his will. For now.

“Would you chew with your mouth closed bean sprout. Your food is already dead, it’s not going to run away from you, for fuck’s sake!” The words were practically spat out, and had Allen just met the black haired man, he would have flinched at the tone. This not being the case, he merely smiled, allowing his cheeks to puff up with food in a way that he knew would further infuriate his fastidious companion. Oblivious though he may have seemed, Allen realized that the older exorcist enjoyed their verbal and physical sparring on at least some level. It was something, a chink in the unreadable man’s armor, and Allen was slowly using it to get under Kanda’s skin.

“Whasat Kanda? Can’t hear you over the sound of how delicious this is!” The white haired man said cheerily, and was rewarded with a twitch from the other exorcist. Mission accomplished.

The little fucker was doing it on purpose, Kanda just knew it. It wouldn’t do to get into a large altercation in a moving train, however, so he stowed his wrath for another time. The heat pressed around him, enforcing his desire to move as little as possible, even if it meant ignoring the pair of eyes watching him, eyes with a strange something in them that Kanda did not want to notice. With an irritated ‘che’, he closed his eyes, and set his mind on meditating until they reached their destination.

Allen stared over at his now meditating companion, and wondered at how it was possible for ice to sweat.
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