[Fic] Illusion of Truth - D.Gray-man, Lavi/Kanda, 1/10+
I actually hadn't planned to do another D.Gray-man fic next, but I've been a bit burned out lately and so I took the first inspiration that presented itself to me. Hopefully I'll get it done before I start school in September. *sweatdrops* The + after the chapter number is both because there is an epilogue planned and because my fics so rarely stay the number of chapters I expect them to be.
Title: Illusion of Truth
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Lavi/Kanda
Rating: NC-17 in other chapters
Warnings: violence, sex, yaoi, spoilers (I don't usually warn for spoilers, but some of what I know about the characters is manga stuff that hasn't been revealed in the anime yet, just fyi)
Chapter length: 3448
Total length: 3448
Kanda is starting to wonder if there is a 'real' Lavi.
The city of Mafeking wasn't under siege now and hadn't been for almost two months, but the scars left behind by the war were still obvious. In other areas of the Transvaal the battles raged on, mostly guerrilla warfare now, but here the British had reigned supreme.
Their victory was evidenced mostly by the large number of men in red British uniforms who marched through the town and around its vicinity. Lord Baden-Powell had no intention of allowing the Boer fighters to lay siege to the city again.
Kanda couldn't have cared less who won the battles, or even what the war was about. If he'd known there was a war going on in this area of Africa, he'd have avoided it. Then again, it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go or anything better to do, so maybe he wouldn't have.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried not to attract the attention of the soldiers. It was hard to stay unobtrusive when he was the only Asian for miles around, though. The black labourers stared at him as he went by, and the white townsfolk weren't any more subtle about it. The soldiers gave him suspicious looks, but he ignored them all with the haughty disdain he reserved for - well, just about everything, really.
The feel of Mugen slung across his back under the dark trench coat was comforting, though he was starting to wish he'd carried it at his hip today instead. It would have been a lot more obvious to the suspicious soldiers there, but he wouldn't have needed to remove his jacket to draw it. Bitterly he wished for the days when he could carry it openly, the symbol of the Black Order on his jacket proclaiming his right to do so. It still seemed odd not to wear the distinctive black and white uniform, even two years after the Order had disbanded.
Shrill screams rose from an alley nearby, and Kanda tensed. So did all the soldiers nearby, their hands going nervously to their guns or blades. After a moment Kanda forced himself to relax. Whatever was going on, it wasn't his problem. The only thing he was worried about was finding a place to stay the night.
More screams came, but these ones were distinctly male and sounded far more panicked. Rifles fired, and every soldier in sight started running towards the alley. For just a moment Kanda was relieved that they at least weren't eying him any more.
Then the sounds of gunfire increased, and over it came a distinctive noise he'd never thought he would hear again. The canons of Akuma made a sound unlike any gun or rifle Kanda had ever encountered, and no Exorcist could possibly mistake it. Spinning on one heel, Kanda stared in the direction of the gunshots in disbelief.
An Akuma? Here? How could that be possible? They'd all been destroyed along with the Earl and Noah's Clan, two years ago. At least, so everyone left alive in the Order had believed. And a good thing, too, considering how very, very few Exorcists had remained after that final, devastating battle.
But apparently at least one Akuma had survived. Cursing, Kanda shrugged out of his jacket and drew Mugen. He ran towards the alley after the soldiers, trailing his fingers over the edge of the blade as he went. "Innocence, activate!" he shouted, and the dull black blade turned to shining silver fire.
It had been too long since he'd last activated it, he realized as the feel of the power swept over him. He'd forgotten how compelling it was, how it crashed over him and lifted him up until he felt like he was drunk on the sheer power of it. He laughed, a sound that held little mirth and promised chaotic destruction for the Akuma ahead of him.
Skidding around the corner, he nearly crashed into the backs of the soldiers who had stopped there. The British troops were shouting in terror and confusion, firing uselessly at the looming monster that floated just above the ground. Already two men were writhing on the ground covered in pentacles, and Kanda could see the dusty remains of at least three more.
"Move!" he shouted, frustrated by the men between him and his target. He didn't know how there could possibly be an Akuma here, after all this time, but he certainly knew that nothing the soldiers could do would even put a dent in it. The power of Mugen sang in his blood, but he couldn't use it until he had a clear path. The Order wasn't around to protect him from the consequences of accidentally killing people along with the Akuma he was targeting.
Far from getting out of his way, some of the idiots actually turned their guns on him, assuming he was a new threat. "You!" one of them barked. "I don't know what sort of new trick this is, but you..." he paused, and stared at Kanda. "Hey, you're not a Boer."
"No, I'm an Exorcist, now get out of my damned way," Kanda snarled. The Akuma turned towards them, energy building at the end of its canons, and Kanda grabbed the man by the sleeve and physically hauled him out of the path of fire.
He was just barely in time, as the glowing purple 'bullets' carved a path into the wall where they'd been standing moments before. Two more soldiers were caught by the edges of the fire, and fell to the ground screaming and writhing. In seconds the pentacles began to appear on their skin, and Kanda knew they were as good as dead.
He couldn't save the ones who were already hit, but he could at least stop the Akuma from doing any more damage. "Out of the way!" he demanded again, slashing Mugen through the air to clear the space before him. The soldiers hastily dove to the sides, more to avoid the sharp blade than because they were obeying him, but it didn't matter why they moved. All that mattered was that he finally had a clear path to the Akuma.
The monster was just as hideous as he'd remembered them to be. Swollen and grotesque, its mask-like face twisted in a permanent expression of horror, it looked like something out of a nightmare. The guns bristling from every surface almost pushed it over the edge from horrifying to ridiculous, unless you knew just how much destructive power they were capable of.
Kanda was certainly well aware of just what they were capable of, but he was also aware of its limits. Whether it had been two years or twenty since his last battle, the day a single first-level Akuma was a challenge for him was the day they'd be chanting a sutra over his body.
Snarling, Kanda pushed off the ground with all his strength, leaping high to try to get above it. Realizing what he was doing, the Akuma tried to dodge, but it was far too slow. With three swift strokes of his blade, Kanda carved the twisted perversion of life into pieces.
The cuts were so swift and clean that for a moment the body held together. His feet had hit the ground again before the Akuma realized it was dead. With a shriek of protest, it slowly fell apart and then exploded.
Having expected that Kanda had braced himself for the shock, but the remaining soldiers were all knocked off their feet. Blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of the afterimage, Kanda held Mugen at the ready as he scanned the narrow alley. Where there was one Akuma, there were often more. At least, that had been the case in the past, but he still wasn't sure how even one Akuma had managed to survive this long. It couldn't have been recently created, could it?
The thought made a chill run down his spine. The Earl was dead, he was certain of that much. The Ark had been destroyed. There shouldn't be any way for new Akuma to be created. No, surely it had to be a survivor, one lone Akuma that had either escaped the battle or hadn't made it there in the first place.
Surely.
Movement further into the alley drew his attention, and he lifted the sword a little higher. "Don't hit me!" a female voice exclaimed. A young girl edged out from behind a corner, her hands held high in the universal gesture of surrender and her eyes wide with fright. "Please, don't hurt me. Please!"
"I'm not going to hurt you," Kanda snapped at her, lowering Mugen slightly. But only slightly. Just because she looked human didn't mean she wasn't another Akuma in disguise. No Exorcist made that mistake after their first battle, and his first battle had been a very long time ago. "What happened?"
"The soldiers were..." Her eyes flicked towards the remaining soldiers, just now picking themselves up off the ground, and she looked like a frightened rabbit. "They were f-flirting with me, saying... awful things. I've heard s-stories, about what they do to the girls, and I just wanted them to leave me alone, and then..." She was trembling, her voice going shrill, and Kanda winced. He hated dealing with hysterical females, damn it. "Then that m-monster burst out of one of them, and it k-killed the other one, and I ran and hid, and it killed the others that c-came..."
"It's dead," Kanda said shortly, not bothering to sugar-coat his words. "It can't hurt anyone now."
"Who are you?" one of the soldiers demanded. "What was that thing?" He raised his rifle in shaking hands, aiming it at Kanda. The rest of the soldiers in the alley were looking towards him for guidance, so Kanda assumed he was some sort of officer. He'd never bothered to learn the ranking structures of the various foreign militaries he'd encountered.
"It was an Akuma," Kanda told him, sliding Mugen back into its sheath. He didn't need his Innocence to deal with a bunch of overwrought human soldiers. None of them had attacked him and the girl remained just a girl, so chances were good there had only been the one Akuma. "They're killing machines, but I thought the last of them had been destroyed. That one must have escaped somehow. I'm an Exorcist of the Black Order, or I was before it disbanded."
He started to ask if there had been a lot of unexplained deaths recently, but stopped before the first word even left his mouth. With the city under siege and a guerrilla war going on out there, of course there had been people dying. They were just lucky the Akuma hadn't killed enough people under the cover of the war to reach its second level.
"You saved my life," the girl breathed out, her eyes shining now. Kanda winced. At least she'd stopped threatening to have hysterics, but the love-struck look wasn't any better. Why did females have to be so damned annoying?
"I didn't do it for you," he replied curtly. "I didn't even know you were there." Turning away from her, he glared at the soldier. "Can I go now, or are you going to shoot me for rescuing you? I'm not part of this stupid war of yours, I'm just passing through."
Slowly, the man lowered the rifle, looking uncertain. "I guess you can go," he agreed, but he didn't sound happy about it. Whether that was because he didn't like the idea of releasing an armed man or just because he was nervous that Kanda wouldn't be around to kill the next monster that showed up, it was hard to tell. And frankly, Kanda didn't care.
"Wait!" To his disgust, the girl ran after him. "Wait, please. You saved me, there must be something I can do for you." She trotted along at his side, undeterred by the stony glare he turned on her. "If you're a visitor to the town, do you have somewhere to stay? I'm Marysa van den Dool, my father runs a local inn. Most of the inns shut down because of the siege, there just weren't any customers. Putting you up is the least we can do for you."
Kanda considered it. She wasn't making calf eyes at him any more, at least, and it hadn't occurred to him that the war might have closed down the inns. "You've got space? Private rooms?" he asked. Many inns only had common rooms where customers could spread their bedding out, and he had no interest in sharing his space with strangers. Especially not if there were still Akuma around.
"Oh, yes," she nodded. "Only a few, but we haven't fared much better than the other inns. We've just got one old man and his apprentice staying with us right now, but they won't bother you at all. Bookman minds his own business, and... are you all right?"
Until she asked the question, Kanda didn't realize that he'd frozen in the middle of the street, staring at her. It took him a long moment to remember that he was supposed to breathe, and the first gasp of air burned painfully in his lungs.
"Bookman?" he repeated, certain he'd misheard her. Grabbing her by the upper arms, he shook her slightly and locked eyes with her. "The Bookman? An old man, Oriental, with black circles around his eyes?"
"Y-yes," she stammered, clearly caught off guard by his sudden intensity. "You know him?"
Kanda felt like he was in shock, and he couldn't quite seem to process any thoughts from start to finish. If the idea of encountering an Akuma after all this time seemed impossible, then the thought of running into Bookman again was... ludicrous. The old man was dead, one of the many, many casualties of that last horrible battle.
Too many good Exorcists had died that day. Too many men and women Kanda had fought beside, bled over, suffered with. Too many of the bodies had never been recovered, or destroyed past all hope of recognition. Bookman had been unaccounted for, but his Innocence had been found among the carnage. That alone had caused the Order to conclude that the old man had been one of the casualties.
"You said he had an apprentice, what..." Kanda trailed off, struggling for control. It felt like his heart was in his throat, threatening to choke him. Lavi had been with his master that day, and his hammer had been found near Bookman's needles. But if Bookman was still alive, then...
Nobody in the Order had known that Kanda and Lavi had been sleeping together. They'd kept it secret, and Kanda had never admitted even to himself how important the redhead had become to him. 'Fucking' was all he'd ever allowed himself to consider it, just a way to relieve a physical need for both of them. Emotion had played no part in it, or so he'd told himself. It was only when he'd thought it was too late that he'd been forced to acknowledge how big a piece of his heart had died with the other Exorcist.
"Trey? What about him?" Marysa asked. "He doesn't say much, he's kind of shy and very quiet. Do you know him, too?"
Slowly, painfully, Kanda's racing heart began to slow again. Even without the unfamiliar name, he'd have known it couldn't be Lavi. 'Shy' and 'quiet' were two words that would never be used to describe the boisterous redhead. Bookman seemed to have survived somehow, but it had been too much to hope for that it meant Lavi was all right as well.
Hell, it might not even be the same Bookman. For all Kanda knew there were dozens of them out there, all little old men painted to look alike. "No, I don't know him," he said gruffly, releasing her abruptly. "I knew a man called the Bookman once, but his apprentice was named Lavi. He's dead."
"I'm sorry," Marysa apologized awkwardly, apparently sensing it was a sore subject. Even more annoyed that his pain was showing so obviously to a stranger, Kanda forced his expression back under control.
"It's nothing," he insisted, starting to walk again. "Though I'd like to talk to this Bookman."
"Well, he and Trey are usually out doing things during the day, but they'll be back in time for supper," she told him uncertainly.
"That's fine," Kanda said, and set his mouth in a grim line. He had questions for Bookman, if it was the same man, but they could all wait.
After a few minutes she pointed across the street, where a battered wooden sign hung over a door, proclaiming the building to be the Golden Ewe. It was painted with a yellow creature that might have looked like a sheep, if you squinted at it just right. "That's our inn," she told him, turning to cross the road. "It's not much, but it's ours. I've helped my father run it since my mother died two years ago." Her mouth twisted. "This war has taken a lot from us, all of us."
Kanda grunted, hoping she'd take that as both an answer and a sign that he wasn't interested in sympathizing with her. The concerns of this town were not his, and the last thing he wanted was to have her start weeping at him or something. He had more than enough problems of his own, he didn't need to play the bleeding heart and start taking on other people's problems, too.
As far as Kanda was concerned, the theory that 'pain shared is pain halved' was bullshit. The only thing pain ever created was more pain, in his experience.
Whether she'd understood his unsubtle attempt to deflect her or simply didn't want to talk about it either, she thankfully dropped the subject. "Would you like something to eat?" she asked as she opened the door for him. "I was going to start dinner as soon as I got home, but I can make something small if you're hungry now."
Inside the inn was more inviting than it had looked from the outside, and Kanda realized that at least some of the outside damage must have been recent, as a result of the war. The rooms were worn-looking but well cared for, clean and bright. A delicious smell hung in the air, and Kanda was suddenly aware that he was hungry.
"If it's not any trouble," he answered, reverting to automatic politeness. Some habits were hard to break, and it didn't cost him anything to be polite for the moment. He was a guest in her house, after all. He could always go back to being an asshole if she threatened to make calf eyes at him again.
She smiled. "It's no trouble at all. Have a seat," she gestured at the two trestle tables that had been set up in the small 'common room'. "I'll be right back with food, it smells like Papa has already started making dinner. Papa!" she raised her voice, and headed towards the door that must lead to the kitchen. "I'm home, and I've got company!"
"Welcome home, Marysa!" The soft voice that came back didn't sound like it belonged to a man old enough to be her father. Kanda frowned, the sound of it tickling at the edge of his memory. Why did it sound vaguely familiar to him? He'd never been in this area of the world before.
"Oh! Trey!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up. "You're here after all. Come out here, he wants to meet you and Bookman." She paused in the doorway and turned back to Kanda. "I'm sorry, I never even asked what your name was!"
"I'm..." Kanda started, but the words caught in his throat as someone appeared in the doorway behind her.
The man was relatively tall, dressed casually in brown cotton pants and a white linen shirt. His bright red hair was cut to fall around his face in messy layers, almost hiding the dark patch that covered one eye. There was something about the shape of his features that suggested he wasn't as purely European as the red hair and remaining green eye claimed, though.
Kanda knew that face, knew it as intimately as he knew his own. Maybe more so. He'd spent far too many hours watching it, secretly memorizing every expression that crossed it, waking or sleeping. He'd dreamed of it night after night for the last two years, tortured by the thought that he would never see it again. "Lavi?" he croaked, and his voice cracked on the name.
Title: Illusion of Truth
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Lavi/Kanda
Rating: NC-17 in other chapters
Warnings: violence, sex, yaoi, spoilers (I don't usually warn for spoilers, but some of what I know about the characters is manga stuff that hasn't been revealed in the anime yet, just fyi)
Chapter length: 3448
Total length: 3448
Kanda is starting to wonder if there is a 'real' Lavi.
The city of Mafeking wasn't under siege now and hadn't been for almost two months, but the scars left behind by the war were still obvious. In other areas of the Transvaal the battles raged on, mostly guerrilla warfare now, but here the British had reigned supreme.
Their victory was evidenced mostly by the large number of men in red British uniforms who marched through the town and around its vicinity. Lord Baden-Powell had no intention of allowing the Boer fighters to lay siege to the city again.
Kanda couldn't have cared less who won the battles, or even what the war was about. If he'd known there was a war going on in this area of Africa, he'd have avoided it. Then again, it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go or anything better to do, so maybe he wouldn't have.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried not to attract the attention of the soldiers. It was hard to stay unobtrusive when he was the only Asian for miles around, though. The black labourers stared at him as he went by, and the white townsfolk weren't any more subtle about it. The soldiers gave him suspicious looks, but he ignored them all with the haughty disdain he reserved for - well, just about everything, really.
The feel of Mugen slung across his back under the dark trench coat was comforting, though he was starting to wish he'd carried it at his hip today instead. It would have been a lot more obvious to the suspicious soldiers there, but he wouldn't have needed to remove his jacket to draw it. Bitterly he wished for the days when he could carry it openly, the symbol of the Black Order on his jacket proclaiming his right to do so. It still seemed odd not to wear the distinctive black and white uniform, even two years after the Order had disbanded.
Shrill screams rose from an alley nearby, and Kanda tensed. So did all the soldiers nearby, their hands going nervously to their guns or blades. After a moment Kanda forced himself to relax. Whatever was going on, it wasn't his problem. The only thing he was worried about was finding a place to stay the night.
More screams came, but these ones were distinctly male and sounded far more panicked. Rifles fired, and every soldier in sight started running towards the alley. For just a moment Kanda was relieved that they at least weren't eying him any more.
Then the sounds of gunfire increased, and over it came a distinctive noise he'd never thought he would hear again. The canons of Akuma made a sound unlike any gun or rifle Kanda had ever encountered, and no Exorcist could possibly mistake it. Spinning on one heel, Kanda stared in the direction of the gunshots in disbelief.
An Akuma? Here? How could that be possible? They'd all been destroyed along with the Earl and Noah's Clan, two years ago. At least, so everyone left alive in the Order had believed. And a good thing, too, considering how very, very few Exorcists had remained after that final, devastating battle.
But apparently at least one Akuma had survived. Cursing, Kanda shrugged out of his jacket and drew Mugen. He ran towards the alley after the soldiers, trailing his fingers over the edge of the blade as he went. "Innocence, activate!" he shouted, and the dull black blade turned to shining silver fire.
It had been too long since he'd last activated it, he realized as the feel of the power swept over him. He'd forgotten how compelling it was, how it crashed over him and lifted him up until he felt like he was drunk on the sheer power of it. He laughed, a sound that held little mirth and promised chaotic destruction for the Akuma ahead of him.
Skidding around the corner, he nearly crashed into the backs of the soldiers who had stopped there. The British troops were shouting in terror and confusion, firing uselessly at the looming monster that floated just above the ground. Already two men were writhing on the ground covered in pentacles, and Kanda could see the dusty remains of at least three more.
"Move!" he shouted, frustrated by the men between him and his target. He didn't know how there could possibly be an Akuma here, after all this time, but he certainly knew that nothing the soldiers could do would even put a dent in it. The power of Mugen sang in his blood, but he couldn't use it until he had a clear path. The Order wasn't around to protect him from the consequences of accidentally killing people along with the Akuma he was targeting.
Far from getting out of his way, some of the idiots actually turned their guns on him, assuming he was a new threat. "You!" one of them barked. "I don't know what sort of new trick this is, but you..." he paused, and stared at Kanda. "Hey, you're not a Boer."
"No, I'm an Exorcist, now get out of my damned way," Kanda snarled. The Akuma turned towards them, energy building at the end of its canons, and Kanda grabbed the man by the sleeve and physically hauled him out of the path of fire.
He was just barely in time, as the glowing purple 'bullets' carved a path into the wall where they'd been standing moments before. Two more soldiers were caught by the edges of the fire, and fell to the ground screaming and writhing. In seconds the pentacles began to appear on their skin, and Kanda knew they were as good as dead.
He couldn't save the ones who were already hit, but he could at least stop the Akuma from doing any more damage. "Out of the way!" he demanded again, slashing Mugen through the air to clear the space before him. The soldiers hastily dove to the sides, more to avoid the sharp blade than because they were obeying him, but it didn't matter why they moved. All that mattered was that he finally had a clear path to the Akuma.
The monster was just as hideous as he'd remembered them to be. Swollen and grotesque, its mask-like face twisted in a permanent expression of horror, it looked like something out of a nightmare. The guns bristling from every surface almost pushed it over the edge from horrifying to ridiculous, unless you knew just how much destructive power they were capable of.
Kanda was certainly well aware of just what they were capable of, but he was also aware of its limits. Whether it had been two years or twenty since his last battle, the day a single first-level Akuma was a challenge for him was the day they'd be chanting a sutra over his body.
Snarling, Kanda pushed off the ground with all his strength, leaping high to try to get above it. Realizing what he was doing, the Akuma tried to dodge, but it was far too slow. With three swift strokes of his blade, Kanda carved the twisted perversion of life into pieces.
The cuts were so swift and clean that for a moment the body held together. His feet had hit the ground again before the Akuma realized it was dead. With a shriek of protest, it slowly fell apart and then exploded.
Having expected that Kanda had braced himself for the shock, but the remaining soldiers were all knocked off their feet. Blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of the afterimage, Kanda held Mugen at the ready as he scanned the narrow alley. Where there was one Akuma, there were often more. At least, that had been the case in the past, but he still wasn't sure how even one Akuma had managed to survive this long. It couldn't have been recently created, could it?
The thought made a chill run down his spine. The Earl was dead, he was certain of that much. The Ark had been destroyed. There shouldn't be any way for new Akuma to be created. No, surely it had to be a survivor, one lone Akuma that had either escaped the battle or hadn't made it there in the first place.
Surely.
Movement further into the alley drew his attention, and he lifted the sword a little higher. "Don't hit me!" a female voice exclaimed. A young girl edged out from behind a corner, her hands held high in the universal gesture of surrender and her eyes wide with fright. "Please, don't hurt me. Please!"
"I'm not going to hurt you," Kanda snapped at her, lowering Mugen slightly. But only slightly. Just because she looked human didn't mean she wasn't another Akuma in disguise. No Exorcist made that mistake after their first battle, and his first battle had been a very long time ago. "What happened?"
"The soldiers were..." Her eyes flicked towards the remaining soldiers, just now picking themselves up off the ground, and she looked like a frightened rabbit. "They were f-flirting with me, saying... awful things. I've heard s-stories, about what they do to the girls, and I just wanted them to leave me alone, and then..." She was trembling, her voice going shrill, and Kanda winced. He hated dealing with hysterical females, damn it. "Then that m-monster burst out of one of them, and it k-killed the other one, and I ran and hid, and it killed the others that c-came..."
"It's dead," Kanda said shortly, not bothering to sugar-coat his words. "It can't hurt anyone now."
"Who are you?" one of the soldiers demanded. "What was that thing?" He raised his rifle in shaking hands, aiming it at Kanda. The rest of the soldiers in the alley were looking towards him for guidance, so Kanda assumed he was some sort of officer. He'd never bothered to learn the ranking structures of the various foreign militaries he'd encountered.
"It was an Akuma," Kanda told him, sliding Mugen back into its sheath. He didn't need his Innocence to deal with a bunch of overwrought human soldiers. None of them had attacked him and the girl remained just a girl, so chances were good there had only been the one Akuma. "They're killing machines, but I thought the last of them had been destroyed. That one must have escaped somehow. I'm an Exorcist of the Black Order, or I was before it disbanded."
He started to ask if there had been a lot of unexplained deaths recently, but stopped before the first word even left his mouth. With the city under siege and a guerrilla war going on out there, of course there had been people dying. They were just lucky the Akuma hadn't killed enough people under the cover of the war to reach its second level.
"You saved my life," the girl breathed out, her eyes shining now. Kanda winced. At least she'd stopped threatening to have hysterics, but the love-struck look wasn't any better. Why did females have to be so damned annoying?
"I didn't do it for you," he replied curtly. "I didn't even know you were there." Turning away from her, he glared at the soldier. "Can I go now, or are you going to shoot me for rescuing you? I'm not part of this stupid war of yours, I'm just passing through."
Slowly, the man lowered the rifle, looking uncertain. "I guess you can go," he agreed, but he didn't sound happy about it. Whether that was because he didn't like the idea of releasing an armed man or just because he was nervous that Kanda wouldn't be around to kill the next monster that showed up, it was hard to tell. And frankly, Kanda didn't care.
"Wait!" To his disgust, the girl ran after him. "Wait, please. You saved me, there must be something I can do for you." She trotted along at his side, undeterred by the stony glare he turned on her. "If you're a visitor to the town, do you have somewhere to stay? I'm Marysa van den Dool, my father runs a local inn. Most of the inns shut down because of the siege, there just weren't any customers. Putting you up is the least we can do for you."
Kanda considered it. She wasn't making calf eyes at him any more, at least, and it hadn't occurred to him that the war might have closed down the inns. "You've got space? Private rooms?" he asked. Many inns only had common rooms where customers could spread their bedding out, and he had no interest in sharing his space with strangers. Especially not if there were still Akuma around.
"Oh, yes," she nodded. "Only a few, but we haven't fared much better than the other inns. We've just got one old man and his apprentice staying with us right now, but they won't bother you at all. Bookman minds his own business, and... are you all right?"
Until she asked the question, Kanda didn't realize that he'd frozen in the middle of the street, staring at her. It took him a long moment to remember that he was supposed to breathe, and the first gasp of air burned painfully in his lungs.
"Bookman?" he repeated, certain he'd misheard her. Grabbing her by the upper arms, he shook her slightly and locked eyes with her. "The Bookman? An old man, Oriental, with black circles around his eyes?"
"Y-yes," she stammered, clearly caught off guard by his sudden intensity. "You know him?"
Kanda felt like he was in shock, and he couldn't quite seem to process any thoughts from start to finish. If the idea of encountering an Akuma after all this time seemed impossible, then the thought of running into Bookman again was... ludicrous. The old man was dead, one of the many, many casualties of that last horrible battle.
Too many good Exorcists had died that day. Too many men and women Kanda had fought beside, bled over, suffered with. Too many of the bodies had never been recovered, or destroyed past all hope of recognition. Bookman had been unaccounted for, but his Innocence had been found among the carnage. That alone had caused the Order to conclude that the old man had been one of the casualties.
"You said he had an apprentice, what..." Kanda trailed off, struggling for control. It felt like his heart was in his throat, threatening to choke him. Lavi had been with his master that day, and his hammer had been found near Bookman's needles. But if Bookman was still alive, then...
Nobody in the Order had known that Kanda and Lavi had been sleeping together. They'd kept it secret, and Kanda had never admitted even to himself how important the redhead had become to him. 'Fucking' was all he'd ever allowed himself to consider it, just a way to relieve a physical need for both of them. Emotion had played no part in it, or so he'd told himself. It was only when he'd thought it was too late that he'd been forced to acknowledge how big a piece of his heart had died with the other Exorcist.
"Trey? What about him?" Marysa asked. "He doesn't say much, he's kind of shy and very quiet. Do you know him, too?"
Slowly, painfully, Kanda's racing heart began to slow again. Even without the unfamiliar name, he'd have known it couldn't be Lavi. 'Shy' and 'quiet' were two words that would never be used to describe the boisterous redhead. Bookman seemed to have survived somehow, but it had been too much to hope for that it meant Lavi was all right as well.
Hell, it might not even be the same Bookman. For all Kanda knew there were dozens of them out there, all little old men painted to look alike. "No, I don't know him," he said gruffly, releasing her abruptly. "I knew a man called the Bookman once, but his apprentice was named Lavi. He's dead."
"I'm sorry," Marysa apologized awkwardly, apparently sensing it was a sore subject. Even more annoyed that his pain was showing so obviously to a stranger, Kanda forced his expression back under control.
"It's nothing," he insisted, starting to walk again. "Though I'd like to talk to this Bookman."
"Well, he and Trey are usually out doing things during the day, but they'll be back in time for supper," she told him uncertainly.
"That's fine," Kanda said, and set his mouth in a grim line. He had questions for Bookman, if it was the same man, but they could all wait.
After a few minutes she pointed across the street, where a battered wooden sign hung over a door, proclaiming the building to be the Golden Ewe. It was painted with a yellow creature that might have looked like a sheep, if you squinted at it just right. "That's our inn," she told him, turning to cross the road. "It's not much, but it's ours. I've helped my father run it since my mother died two years ago." Her mouth twisted. "This war has taken a lot from us, all of us."
Kanda grunted, hoping she'd take that as both an answer and a sign that he wasn't interested in sympathizing with her. The concerns of this town were not his, and the last thing he wanted was to have her start weeping at him or something. He had more than enough problems of his own, he didn't need to play the bleeding heart and start taking on other people's problems, too.
As far as Kanda was concerned, the theory that 'pain shared is pain halved' was bullshit. The only thing pain ever created was more pain, in his experience.
Whether she'd understood his unsubtle attempt to deflect her or simply didn't want to talk about it either, she thankfully dropped the subject. "Would you like something to eat?" she asked as she opened the door for him. "I was going to start dinner as soon as I got home, but I can make something small if you're hungry now."
Inside the inn was more inviting than it had looked from the outside, and Kanda realized that at least some of the outside damage must have been recent, as a result of the war. The rooms were worn-looking but well cared for, clean and bright. A delicious smell hung in the air, and Kanda was suddenly aware that he was hungry.
"If it's not any trouble," he answered, reverting to automatic politeness. Some habits were hard to break, and it didn't cost him anything to be polite for the moment. He was a guest in her house, after all. He could always go back to being an asshole if she threatened to make calf eyes at him again.
She smiled. "It's no trouble at all. Have a seat," she gestured at the two trestle tables that had been set up in the small 'common room'. "I'll be right back with food, it smells like Papa has already started making dinner. Papa!" she raised her voice, and headed towards the door that must lead to the kitchen. "I'm home, and I've got company!"
"Welcome home, Marysa!" The soft voice that came back didn't sound like it belonged to a man old enough to be her father. Kanda frowned, the sound of it tickling at the edge of his memory. Why did it sound vaguely familiar to him? He'd never been in this area of the world before.
"Oh! Trey!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up. "You're here after all. Come out here, he wants to meet you and Bookman." She paused in the doorway and turned back to Kanda. "I'm sorry, I never even asked what your name was!"
"I'm..." Kanda started, but the words caught in his throat as someone appeared in the doorway behind her.
The man was relatively tall, dressed casually in brown cotton pants and a white linen shirt. His bright red hair was cut to fall around his face in messy layers, almost hiding the dark patch that covered one eye. There was something about the shape of his features that suggested he wasn't as purely European as the red hair and remaining green eye claimed, though.
Kanda knew that face, knew it as intimately as he knew his own. Maybe more so. He'd spent far too many hours watching it, secretly memorizing every expression that crossed it, waking or sleeping. He'd dreamed of it night after night for the last two years, tortured by the thought that he would never see it again. "Lavi?" he croaked, and his voice cracked on the name.