The redheaded boy walks out onto the field, looking for all the world like the typical carefree young boy. But he is not. He has seen the perils of war, lived it, and come out of it so far both stronger and broken. Nothing here is untouched by war, even him. Especially him.
His black exorcist uniform stands out against the dry and dead winter terrain. His red-orange scarf waves softly in the frosty breeze. He takes in a deep breath of air, and the chill burns his nostrils and sends a shiver up his spine.
He glances up at the sky. It's a pale silver-blue that faded to white, lined with a golden hue on one side. A winter sunset.
He speaks to the sky, softly, almost hesitant.
I am a Bookman's apprentice. Forbidden to feel, forbidden to intervene. Always, I must remain neutral, never taking any sides. My purpose is simply to record history. I do not even have a true name. But you know me as "Lavi". My 49th persona.
All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name. Is it love that I long for? Is it peace? Or is it simply something to feel? I didn't know until I first saw you. You, who were so beautiful, took my breath away. It was a moment in my life when all that filled my senses was you. My doubts and worries, my stresses and hatred of both myself and humanity vanished for an instant. It was replaced with an intense longing for you.
But I know… To put it into words cannot be forgiven. Those words, once said, cannot be taken back. So I'll silently continue to watch from afar, hoping these feelings reach you through my gaze. That's all I can really hope for, after all.
Please let them reach you.