Hi there! So this is my very first fanfic I've ever written, so it probably won't be that good. I don't know why, but the idea just came to me while doing some history homework (which makes no sense because the story and my homework are in no way related to each other whatsoever). I've been wanting to write a fic for a while now, especially one revolving around Lavi and Allen. This story is based off of the "Village Where the Witch Lives" episodes of D. Gray-Man. I just hope it's good! Oh, and the actual story should begin in the next chapter. This is just like a flashback kind of chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own DGM in any way, shape, or form. If I did, it wouldn't be as awesomely epic as it already is, seeing as how uncreative I am.

Summary: To the village of Gantrik, Allen Walker was a bringer of misfortune with the mark of the devil carved upon his face. Now he is the bearer of misfortune as the villagers had sent him to live alone in the old cabin on the outskirts of town, believing that all miseries of their lives would be directed towards the boy. However, will the new, red-headed resident be able to bring some hope into the boy's dismal life?

Misfortune

The word was not unfamiliar to the boy. Hell, that word describes the bulk of his life. Misfortune followed everywhere he went. It was the extra heaviness on his shoulders, always there, waiting to just take its toll on the poor boy, which was all the time. A day didn't go by where he felt that weight lifted off his shoulders. Day to day, he waited expectantly, anxiously, for what Misfortune would bring upon him, knowing all too well that he couldn't escape its grasp. He's had it for so long, and he knew that it was now a part of him, no matter how much he wanted otherwise. Misfortunate was definitely a way to describe his life.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Cold. It's the first thing he thinks of when he wakes to the chilling, morning air, his dirty and ragged clothing only acting as a thin second skin to protect himself from the lack of heat. Dark. The sun has barely risen for it is early morning, and he knows to pick himself up from where he has been hiding to get a start on moving before the activities of where ever he is takes place. He's fearful. He starts to wander, aggressive and fearless look on his face, but deep down, he wants to give into the fear that eats him up when facing the real world. With this fear, however, it contradicts with the one thing he's really only ever wanted. A friend. Someone always by his side who could reassure him that everything would be all right in the end, said with a confidence as if saying that the sun would always rise in the morning. A reason to keep living and putting up with Misfortune.

That brings him to his next thought: Loneliness. He was alone in the world, and has been for as long as he can remember. He had no parents. Who knows what happened to them. But who cares? They aren't with him now and that's that. He wouldn't allow himself to trust another human being, no matter how much he wanted to. Whether they looked at him with disgust or pity, he didn't care. They were all the same to him anyway, and he learned the hard way. He was always left alone in the end, beaten. Left feeling contempt towards that damned left arm of his. "I should've known," he would think to himself, staring at that wine-red flesh he'd never get accustomed with. "They're all the same."

So, he just gets on with life, fully aware of the fact that this is just how it is, no matter how much it sucks. Dying was definitely not an option any more, though, no matter how tempting it could be at times. He wouldn't die, whether by his own hand or by another. He wanted to live. Crazy, right? He often found himself thinking, "What is there to live for?" And that was true. He had nothing. But he ignored that fact. He wanted to believe that he could find something to live for, something worthwhile to keep moving for. So with that fact in mind, he lives. He follows a path he sets for himself, and he doesn't give up. However, just as he feels about ready to give into that darkness that surrounds him, he finds a shred of hope at the end of that forever-extending path.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

"Excuse me young lad. Might I ask why you are sleeping outside on this cold morning?"

A boy of around seven years of age lazily began to open his eyes to the source of the voice that awoke him. At first, all he could see was a black blob amidst the white of the area, but as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he could clearly see that there was a man leaning over him. Suddenly aware of the situation, the boy quickly stood up, only to trip over his own feet and fall face-first onto the surrounding snow.

"You know, someone would think you a headless corpse with that hair of yours blending with the snow," the man joked, chuckling lightly. Said boy sat up, rubbing the snow off his scowling face with his left hand, only to jerk it away and place it hidden behind his back. He then looked up from his spot on the ground to take in the sight of the man before him.

The first thing he noticed was that the man was tall, seeming to tower over his own small figure. He was in a not-too-formal faded black suit and black pants, and adorned on his head was a top hat. Under that top hat, he had black hair and a kind-looking face. He was also holding a good-sized suitcase at his side. He seemed to be a traveler.

"Need some help there lad?" the man asked, extending his left arm out to the boy. He looked up at the man suspiciously before extending his own right arm out to be pulled up, keeping his uncovered left arm hidden behind his back.

"….Thanks," he muttered silently, keeping his eyes focused on the mushy ground below.

"Is there something wrong with your left arm there? Is it injured?" The man slowly reached out to grab the boy's arm, but the seven year-old jumped back, fear threatening to overcome his stoic demeanor.

"Th-there's nothing wrong. You wouldn't want to look at it."

The man skeptically looked at the younger one in front of him before kneeling and reaching out again. "It's okay. I just want to take a look at it to make sure. Don't worry."

The boy finally looked up at the man and saw his reassuring smile. He felt somewhat at ease, and hesitantly brought his left arm out, shutting his eyes tight, bracing himself for the reaction to come. "They're all the same." He clearly didn't expect the next words that came out of the traveler's mouth.

"Hmmmm, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong. That's good." The boy looked up, confusion written across his face. He was surprised at the man's calm response. This was definitely something he wasn't used to. He then pulled his arm away, and looked up with anger in his eyes.

"What do you mean there's nothing wrong! It's the arm of a monster! A demon! How can you be so calm?" Tears threatened to pour down his face, but he wouldn't let them. He couldn't show any weakness to the stranger in front of him. But as he looked at the elder's face, he could see a warm and understanding smile as the traveler once again reached for his arm.

"I don't see anything wrong," he stated smoothly, smile still on his face. "It's an arm, with skin, an elbow, and a hand attached with five fingers." He emphasized his statement by putting his own palm against the boy's. "See?"

With that said, the child blinked at the sight before him, two hands pressed together, and let loose his tears, unable to contain them. He cried not out of fear, nor out of sadness, but because of internal relief and happiness. Never before had he ever felt so human, so much like the child he was.

"There there young one," the traveler said, comforting the crying boy. After a few moments, the seven year old began to calm down to the point of just small hiccups. "Now, my name is Mana. Mana Walker. May I ask what yours is?"

The boy looked up to the once-again smiling face before replying with disdain in his voice. "I don't have one. Never did."

"Well that won't do? Can I have the honor of naming you then?"

"…..Do as you wish."

"Well, how about Allen? Do you like that name?"

"A-Allen?"

"Yes, that was the name of my dog that has recently passed away. What do you think?"

"Heh, you're naming me after a dog? How lowly." He replied, crossing his arms with a returning scowl on his face.

Mana smiled at the cross boy before elaborating. "Allen was my most special friend, and I believe the name would be perfect for you."

The boy, now named Allen, began to feel a hint of happiness again, receiving a special name like that. He was happy about receiving a name in general, a label other than "monster" or "demon". A small smile came across his face that didn't go unnoticed by Mana.

"Well then, Allen, I take it that you have nowhere to go from here then?" Mana implied. "How would you like to come with me then? I'm a traveler, as you can see, and I have been getting very lonely as of late. And you look like someone who could use a companion." He stood and offered his hand once again to Allen, but Allen just sat there, shocked by the offer. He lingered for a few seconds before pulling his arm back.

"I'll be taking my leave then. Follow if you wish." And with that said, Mana turned after giving another smile, and began to slowly walk the other way.

Allen continued to sit there, staring at the retreating man's back, a million things going through his mind. However, one thought seemed to make itself known: "Can I trust him?" Could he, a boy who had grown hating and fearing humans, trust a stranger he'd just met; a stranger who, for the first time, made him feel like an actual human being? He had felt so at ease, so safe, under the man's short watch. Allen then stood up, anticipating his next move.

Mana continued to walk, without turning his back. Another smile graced his face as he heard the sound of soft footsteps follow after him.

Please review and tell me how I can improve! I'd like to make it appealing to the readers.