[Dream: Week 22, day 3] Something bittersweet

Apr 25, 2011 20:25

”You can know something that no one knows.”

Thirst for knowledge has always driven him on, from the very start when he gave an awed nod to those words, completely focused on the old man in front of him, listening intently.

”If you want that, it is really simple. All you need to do is throw away your name. Can you do that?”

And he had responded with another nod, eager, saying that yes, yes I can. Because his name? It meant nothing, never did. No one ever called him by it, it had only been given to him by parents that… didn’t matter. He doesn’t remember them and if he did back then he doesn’t remember remembering them; he just knows that they didn’t matter back then, and still don’t.

”Your past is not important anymore, who you were before doesn’t exist anymore. Now, you are Bookman Junior, and that is all you are.”

…this isn’t a bad memory as much as it might look like one. At the time, he hadn’t been that happy for a long while, because a weight had been lifted from his shoulders when he had a purpose. And he remembers it fondly still, because Bookman is the only real family he has had.

”Sit down and focus, Greenhorn!”

He laughs, his only response to the command being to jump onto Bookman’s back, arms wrapping around a neck as he clings to stay there. Really, does this grumpy old man expect him to sit down and study things like a good boy when the weather is so nice and the grass they’re sitting on so pretty? Yes, everything Bookman has to teach him is very interesting and he loves it, but he just wants a break.

That’s not what he says though, because where’s the fun in that? No, he can’t resist a cheerful “make me, old panda” either, as he plants his feet into Bookman’s back to help stay put.

…and Bookman makes him, by grabbing the back of his collar and pulling him off, plonking him down in his proper spot. He’s a little surprised and just blinks for a moment, before he has to lean back due to having Bookman’s finger in his face. And pouts.

“Tell me now; how do you make your acting believable?”

“By thinking of something that makes me feel that emotion so that I feel it, just not directed at the situation in front of me,” he recites as if reading from a book. “I get it already. Can we move on now? Ow!”

He scowls bitterly as all that gets him is a light whack to the top of his head, which he covers with his arms as he glares bitterly at Bookman. This really isn’t what he wants to learn, even if he can’t say it’s boring but… he really does want a break! So if they’re not going to move onto something else, he would like to play. But… apparently not.

“And if you have no personal experience with the emotion you need to show?”

He sighs heavily, as if this whole thing is torturous. “Bookmaaaaaan,” he whines and bounces impatiently where he sits. “Can’t we do something eeeeelse?”

“This is very important; settle down.” The sharpness to Bookman’s tone does make him stop bouncing, reluctantly. “Now answer the question.”

Another heavy sigh, before he gives the textbook-sounding reply:

“Then I take someone else’s experience and imagine myself in it to make it as real as possible. If there is no such thing, then I make something up. If I put something behind it, it seems more real.” And then with a lot more life in his tone; “Are we done now?”

Bookman suddenly looks several years older, expression turning bitter. But it doesn’t ruin his mood, oh no.

“This is the most important thing I will teach you, Junior. We will spend a lot of time on this, and we are nowhere done today. We have barely started. Now, pick a book character we both know to act like and speak to me as that character.”

It’s as he tries to skip ahead on a road of pebbles that Bookman catches the end of his poncho and pulls him back to shove a map in his face, telling him to read it and say where they should go to reach their destination. It’s really all a mess of lines and names in his eyes and he stares at it for a long while trying to make sense of it all. But, finally, he looks up at Bookman with a bit of an agitated pout.

He doesn’t like how Bookman smirks at him before bending down to explain everything. Damn irritating old man. Since when is there any need to tease him?

But that is simply how they are, isn’t it?

And he remembers the pain of getting hit by a bullet (not an intentional, just a stray while observing a battlefield), he remembers a feeling of safety through all of it; from the fading consciousness to actually losing it and to later regaining it and that’s because Bookman was with him through it all, apparently. And he can swear there’s relief in Bookman’s face when it’s confirmed that he’s going to be fine.

And then in a big leap forward in time there’s that incident where Bookman almost ends up dying during the invasion of the Black Order HQ. He really was afraid Bookman would have dropped dead, but seeing the damn old man on a stretcher, fine and dandy and complaining about the hair of all things, he actually slumps over crying.

”Gramps! Are you dead?!”

“Here comes the idiot… I’m fine. More importantly, did my hair get burnt…?”

“Who cares about your dumb hair?!”

“I do…”

But it’s a very good feeling.

His family is safe, all of them are safe, and he’s just so very, very happy. And this thing about not having emotions? Screw that; they’re worth it in the end.

As much as they leave a hollow feeling behind when you miss someone.

[Lavi doesn't wake up, and he's actually smiling lightly as he tosses over, facing the Hitomi. And the screen goes black.]

yu kanda, lavi, *dream, matt, ~meguro gau

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