Disclaimer: I own nothing!
A Baptism of Fire
Starring: Lavi/fem!Allen
Mid July
A door opened, and four people walked out from the candlelit interior of the Victorian mansion into the gleaming sunlight of the late summer. The large door framed an even larger man dressed all in white and beige; his huge teeth glimmered in the bright light. Beside him stood a young girl with electrifying blue hair, a grin whizzing across her pale face. The large man leaned forward on his long-suffering umbrella and called out to those who were leaving.
"Goodbye, my Noahs! Remember your tasks. Especially you, Tyki-pon – don't go playing with the girl now, mind. Skin, don't kill anyone please. Lulu Bell, I trust you know what to do. And Cyril, don't divulge anything that's a secret!" the portly man shouted; his voice carried through the still, dry air, chin wobbling as his voice resonated in the deserted area.
Skin, the most muscled of the four, turned back and grunted before getting into a slinky black car. The only female, Lulu Bell, gave a curt nod before sliding into the driver's seat of the same car. The car gave a stylish purr before it zoomed off towards the city, leaving a whirl of dust and desiccated leaves behind. Then the man with the glasses – Cyril – waved and got into his own vehicle and headed in the same direction. That left the tall, curly-haired man who was standing by his own sleek car. He opened the door, and shot a fleeting stare back at the doorway. The girl pulled her lollipop out of her mouth and grinned at him, waving her lollipop. The large man nodded and waved too.
Tyki smiled at the two. "Bye, Earl! Bye, Road!"
The last car flew off, and the Earl led Road back into the mansion.
The door shut.
*[[]]*
The editor of The Black Order Post put the telephone down with a quiet click. Still deep in thought, his eyes, hidden behind thin glass walls, ran over the opposite wall. The dark eyes took in the newspaper cuttings pasted there, the sea of grey and print marring the cream tint of the smooth cement. Arms pressing down against his armrests, the tall man heaved himself up and made his way to the wall in question. His white coat, like that of a seasoned scientist, flapped about his ankles, and his right hand reached up to adjust the position of his spectacles. He stopped, right in front of the newspaper cuttings.
His eyes settled on the one situated the most to the left, which was also the least yellowed article. The heading was interesting. His thin finger traced the words 'Albino Wins Coveted Prize'. He chuckled lightly; the white-haired girl in the photo was not an albino!
*[[]]*
A year ago:
"Allen! Come and look at this!" A redhead swung his right arm wildly in the air, gesturing for his colleague to move over to his cubicle. "Come now!"
"What is it, Lavi?" the girl with the white hair asked somewhat exasperatedly. "Another pretty celebrity you're drooling about? I told you I'm not into girls."
"No, Allen-chan! Look here!" Lavi's overly excited right hand pointed to the screen of his personal computer.
"Lavi, your head is blocking the screen," Allen sighed loudly, exhaling through her nostrils so he could hear her loud and clear.
"Oh. Sorry!" The head of red hair moved away, allowing Allen to get a proper look at the screen and the topic of interest. She saw a photo of herself first, quite horribly taken, with her white hair flying and her mouth open like that of a fish, and then she saw her name.
"Look, it's your name! Allen Walker!" Lavi jabbed excitedly at the screen, his head moving back into Allen's field of vision.
Sighing again, Allen pushed Lavi's head away and bent to read the article. Her eyes skimmed the long article, taking in phrases here and there; "journalist Allen Walker is a newcomer to the news scene, having joined The Black Order Post no more than a year ago". She also read that "her journalistic ability is deceptively simple" and that she was able to come up with "poignant and subtle news articles that were well worthy of being read". As her eyes scanned downwards, she saw the defining statement, that watershed that would change her future – "Walker has achieved another feat for The Black Order Post by winning the Pulitzer Prize for feature writing".
She had won. She gaped, eyes staring blankly like fishes' scales at the bright screen, with Lavi hunched up uncomfortably by her side. So she had won, after all. She hadn't let her colleagues and her editor down.
"Komui!" Lavi called at her side, "Come and look at this!"
*[[]]*
He was pretty proud of Allen. She was relatively new to the journalism business, but she had won the award in half the time it took other journalists. She was able to scribe articles that glimmered with literary finesse even while delivering the news in as little words as possible. She was concise without losing her eloquence. In fact, she was truly the gem of their bureau, not that his sister was very much worse, though. She was good enough, and that was all that mattered. His eyes now moved on to the next cutting. It was a good deal more yellow than the one about Allen, and portions of it gleamed with dust.
*[[]]*
Two years ago:
"Nii-san, what do you think of my article? Is it good enough? I rushed it out yesterday night, and I think there might be quite a few errors…" His sister looked at him with worried eyes, anxious about the state of her article.
"Well, Lenalee, it could certainly do with some polishing, but it's generally fine. You've covered all the areas you need to. In fact, if you just tidy up the language, I might consider submitting this for the Pulitzer Prize!" the bespectacled man answered. His sister had spent a lot of time on the election trail, interviewing all three of the mayor wannabes with great energy, and then condensing the week-long research and hard work into a succinct but informative article that would allow discerning readers to make informed choices.
And he did just that. He asked Reever and the rest of the editing team for their opinions. They had all been equally impressed, so he paid the fifty dollars fee and submitted his sister's work.
He felt vindicated when Lenalee won the Pulitzer Prize for national reporting. Both Lavi and Kanda had won prizes before, so now Lenalee could be on equal footing with them! When she heard the news, she had cried before going with Kanda to collect her prize with tiny tears on her eyelashes, twinkling like raindrops in the starry night sky.
*[[]]*
His sister was really the best. The tall man nodded to himself, white cap bobbing over his forehead, and black fringe falling into his eyes. His fringe seemed to be in the way quite often now; he really ought to do something about it. Oh well. Maybe he would have some free time when the four of them went off to that conference. He could see to personal hygiene matters then.
He shifted his finger over to the next article. A long-haired man was in the photograph, scowling at the camera with a deadly glare. Now to Kanda, that company stalwart.
*[[]]*
Three years ago:
Kanda stood up and stretched. His back was stiff from hunching over his computer for the past few days, buthe didn't regret it. It was his duty, after all, to provide a comprehensive and interesting account of the financial meltdown the world had just experienced. And, of course, to make sure that the readers would not get the wrong ideas, he analyzed the reasons for the economic crisis by reading those much-dreaded textbooks from his college days late into the night.
It had been a most taxing task altogether. Those late nights had robbed him of his daily fencing practice. Now he was unfit and would have to train again. Sighing, the man made his way to Reever to hand over his article. Then the phone call had come while he was at fencing practice, some months later.
"Yu!" a cheery voiced shouted into his ear. It was the damned Usagi, of course. Who else would address him that way?
"I told you not to call me Yu! Wait till Mugen finds your heart."
"Right. Sorry. Anyway, I have exciting news!" Lavi chirped.
"What, you got yourself another girlfriend?" Kanda replied unsociably.
"Of course not. I'm utterly devoted to singlehood right now! You've hurt my heart." A loud sniff came across.
"..."
"Anyway, Yu, the news is about you! Drum roll, please!"
"What nonsense are you yabbering about now?" Kanda was teetering on a precipice. Lavi could be too annoying for his own good sometimes.
"Why, you've won the Business Journalist of the Year Award! Congrats!" Lavi shouted into the phone, brimming with congratulatory wishes.
"Oh. Che. Bye." Kanda ended the call and stared at the smooth shiny surface of his cell. He'd won the prize? The coveted prize? Well, that was something. The ghost of a smile, long forgotten, rose to his thin lips.
*[[]]*
Well, he was proud of Kanda too. He was rather sullen, Kanda was, but he was a nice guy and he treated Lenalee with respect, unlike Lavi. Kanda was easy to anger, but also good at fighting. The editor didn't mind sending his precious Lenalee on research missions with Kanda when necessary, since the young man would protect Lenalee whenever he had to.
Lavi was a different story. He fell in love with a different woman every other day; or at least, he lusted after them like a hungry hyena. A leopard will never change his spots. The editor shook his head, somewhat mournfully. Speaking of spots… the article on Lavi's win was now covered in yellow spots like the hideous pus-filled blisters on chickenpox victims. He should have laminated it, after all. The article was now too old and tattered to last much longer. What a pity.
*[[]]*
Four years ago:
"Lavi! Are you still in the office?" the editor called out, looking for his one and only trustable journalist. He walked to the journalists' work cubicles, and spotted the redhead asleep atop a pile of scruffy papers. He sighed and shook his erstwhile worker.
"Lavi-kun! Wake up now!"
The redhead stirred and saw him through the half open lid of his left eye. "Wassup?"
"Even your speech is slurred," the editor said as he shook his head, adding, "Go wash your face."
The redhead was pulled up and pushed in the direction of the washroom, and thankfully, came back with his scruffy shirt now tucked into his pants. His eye was open now, and the remnants of sleep had beenwiped clean from his face.
"Hey, Komui. Why did you wake me?"
"I have a new assignment for you. Go interview the Member of Parliament for London. He just came up with a new policy which he's going to push through when parliament opens."
Somewhat reluctantly, Lavi went, and he was pleasantly surprised when the Anne Vondeling Prize was handed to him on a silver platter. The prize was given to journalists who wrote clearly regarding political matters, so he felt that it was an acknowledgement of his superb skills at writing politics-based reports.
*[[]]*
The bespectacled man brushed off his white coat and moved away from the news cuttings pinned to the opposite wall. He strode back meaningfully to his swivelling chair, and sat down lightly. His lips pursed up, he picked up the receiver of the phone sitting on his polished desk, and dialled for Reever.
"Reever! Could you ask Lenalee, Allen, Kanda and Lavi to step into my office for a moment?"
"Sure, Supervisor," Reever's tired voice answered.
"Thank you!" Komui sat back and twiddled his thumbs, waiting. He preferred not to touch the tons of paperwork sitting around his desk, like hungry children ever clamouring for more food. The more stacks of paper he got rid of, the more would come in. Let sleeping dogs lie, he thought.
Komui heard a knock, and then four young people entered. They looked suspiciously at Komui, who was known to give them funny assignments at all sorts of times, before sitting in the armchairs before his cluttered desk.
Komui adjusted his glasses again. "Good afternoon, people. I've an announcement to make."
Everyone stared at him, waiting.
"Please keep the first two weeks of next month free! The upper echelons of the Black Order have planned something for you."
"What is it?" Kanda's curt question came first, the way Komui had expected it to.
"It's a surprise!" Komui grinned at his subordinates. "Now back to work!"
Komui now pushed them out without much courtesy. They grumbled as they made their way back to the working space.
"I wonder what Komui-san wants to do with us again…" Allen sighed.
"I don't think Nii-san will plan anything nasty," Lenalee said, though she looked rather doubtful.
"If he does, he'll be sorry!" Kanda snarled, flushing a little when he realised that he was insulting Lenalee's brother. He turned away from the group abruptly to hide his growing embarrassment.
Lavi chuckled slightly, and ruffled Allen's hair.
"Aren't they just cute!" he said to no one in particular.
*[[]]*
Allen tiptoed her way into the grand foyer of the hotel where the famous Tyki Mikk had agreed to meet her for their interview. His name had spread far and wide over the past month, when hisname appeared in every single newspaper for being the one entrepreneur who cared about the rights of the low-income workers who worked for him in his overseas ventures. He had heard that the workers were being ill-treated, so he took a trip down to visit the factories to put everything in order.
Her steps seemed to reverberate loudly in the empty foyer. She was not a novice at interviewing, so why did she feel so shaky? She took a deep breath in the elevator, and hesitated before knocking at his door. A young boy opened the door for her; he was Tyki Mikk's errand boy, so she later learned.
She entered what seemed to be the cloakroom of the suite, before following the boy into the next room. Her flats, which had seemed professional enough in the newsroom, seemed a tad unprofessional now as they fought their way through the soft carpet that padded the suite. Her clothes seemed a little too overly-casual too – maybe she should have won black pants instead of the skinny jeans currently covering her thin legs. But it was too late – two highly polished shoes had appeared before her. She looked up.
The unique golden eyes of the famous Tyki Mikk bored into her own with an intensity she found shocking.
A/N: First of all, I want to say a big thank you to my beta reader, Everystep! She helped me with plot flow and characterization and every other problem. Oh, and she pointed out that my dialogue tags were wrong, and so… if they're still wrong here, please pardon me. I did try my best to get them correct.
I actually started writing this last year, I think. If anything about the Pulitzer or whatever other prizes are wrong, please… just close an eye? I hope there aren't any mistakes, though.
So yes I'm back with another female Allen fic; I just love stories with fem!Allen heh. Somehow I think this chapter is a tad slow, but… possibly the next one would be faster?
So, thanks for reading, and please do leave a review if you don't mind. I'd appreciate it! And have a happy new year! (: