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An exasperated sigh was released. It came from the man seated across from him, Mr. Takoshima. He was the Principal of the school, though Kanda only knew him as Strict Old Bastard.

You see, Kanda sitting in the Principal's office was nothing new. In fact, it was almost expected now, and the secretaries didn't even bother asking what his business here was anymore. Today, Kanda had landed himself in here because of fighting, yet again. It was his most common offense, because he just couldn't seem to contain his anger.

"Mr. Kanda," the man breathed in disappointment as usual. "This is the third time I've had the pleasure of disciplining you this month. Somehow, I don't think you're learning from the detentions I've given you; in fact, you still haven't attended half of them." Oh really? Kanda thought though he stayed silent through the man's lecture. "You're a good student, Kanda. You have exceptional grades, if only you'd improve your behavior…" the man continued as Kanda zoned out, nodding every minute or two to make it seem like he actually gave a crap.

It wasn't his fault that so many morons surrounded him daily. Frankly, he'd rather rip out the oxygen stealers' throats with his teeth. The school system should be glad he exercises enough self-control not to kill them all.

This time it was the foreign kid. He came from Australia— all the way to Japan for God knows why—and Kanda was chosen to be the brat's tour guide, because he was one of the few students at this school that spoke English. Realizing that the majority of his peers couldn't understand a word he said, the kid started spouting off all kinds of insults about every person they passed in the halls. Kanda tried to ignore the annoying white noise of his voice grating on his ears, and was succeeding, until the guy—Let's call him Charlie—until Charlie started saying sick perverted things about the females that walked by, and even went so far as to groping at them as they passed. Now, Kanda couldn't care less about a guy insulting/getting insulted, it's just a despicable thing all guys do, but Kanda held women on a higher pedestal than men and believed they always deserved respect, no matter if they didn't hear the insults, and you definitely don't touch them like that.

He'd had enough.

He grabbed Charlie by the collar and slammed him into the lockers screaming at him. The rest of the students scurried away as they always did when Kanda was in a bad mood. "What the hell's your problem, mate?" the kid kept repeating, which only made Kanda angrier, and he eventually raised a fist to the guy's face.

Luckily, for Charlie, a few teachers arrived to break them up, and Kanda was immediately sent to the Office and the kid to the Nurse.

And that was how Kanda landed in this seat—his seat, as the secretaries had dubbed it—listening to the Principal rant and rave over his behavior.

"…therefore you're being suspended. Gather your things and go home. You will not return for another week." Yeah, Kanda thought sarcastically, that'll teach me.

Despite Kanda's personal thoughts, the Principal gave him a pretty a light punishment considering his constant violence and general distaste for authority. Nevertheless, he gathered his junk and walked home, not really caring about the trouble he was in.

When he walked through his front door he could hear his mother in the kitchen. Today was her day off, and it was about lunchtime. At the sound of the front door shutting, she poked her head through the kitchen doorway. Upon seeing her son home hours early, she deduced that he'd gotten in trouble at school and gotten sent home again.

"How long this time?" she asked him as she prepared some noodles.

"A week." He answered concisely as he threw his backpack to the ground and got comfortable on the couch. She sighed.

"Yu, you really need to stop this," Kanda inwardly cringed at the use of his first name but didn't cause a fuss about it like he would to anyone else, because it was his mother. And she had him wrapped around her finger. "How are you going to graduate like this? At this rate you'll have to repeat a grade for all the school you've missed."

"I know…"

"You should try meditating more with me. It might help your anger problems."

"Uh huh…" he affirmed in a monotone.

"Now…" she started off sweetly as she walked to him with a bowl of finished noodles one hand and chop sticks in the other, "Go clean the kitchen!" she finished in a deep command. Kanda immediately hopped from his spot to do as he was told. She proceeded to plop down in the exact place Kanda himself had occupied previously.

This was the closest thing to a punishment Kanda received when he got in trouble. He was assigned countless chores while his mother lounged around and watched. With anyone else, he would've declined and proceeded to kick their ass, but this was a woman, and not just any woman. This was his mother, the one who'd helped create this highly regarded, respecting opinion of women. He loved her to pieces and would do anything for her, and she knew it and adored it. Though sometimes, like now, she used his loyalty to her advantage.

As his mother lounged comfortably, eating her meal and watching her son do housework, she got to thinking. Kanda's behavior has seemed to have been getting worse and worse lately. You could even see the change physically now. He was always exhausted, it seemed, and he now had constant bags under his eyes that worried her; he didn't eat as much as usual either. She figured (hoped) it was just the angry stress he'd built up affecting him and not something worse. She knew no punishments he was given would change his anger. He'd always been this way. Though the school counselors tried to pin his behavior upon the fact that his father wasn't around, she knew that wasn't the case. Yu was Yu, an ill-tempered, independent young man who needed to learn a thing or two on self-control. She knew she wouldn't be able to get through to him, despite probably being the closest to him out of anyone. What she had to do was find someone who could get through to him. It will certainly be a chore, she thought, exhausted by the mere thought of it.

Then, she received a phone call.

When Kanda was done with the housework he went to his room and stayed there for the rest of the day, probably glaring at the wall the entire time and enjoying every second of it.

Soon, night came along, and Kanda found himself drifting off to sleep despite his best efforts to stay awake.

Every night, for the past week, Kanda had the most terrible nightmares of his life.

The dreams themselves were fuzzy and vague, but what he always remembered was oh-so-real pain he'd felt every time. It felt like his body was being ripped apart and then snapped back together on its own. Muscle and tendons would separate, bones would break, and organs and blood would be spilled on the ground. And then, it reversed. His bones snapped back together, good as new, and his entire body would repair itself. During the whole process, in the dream, he noticed he'd been screaming in pain the whole time, and when he finally stopped he heard another voice. They were also in pain, probably going through something similar to him.

It hurt.

Oh God, did it hurt.

His most recent attempt at sleep ended up the same way, and after the pain he found himself panting, staring up above whatever flat surface he was laying on.

An operating table, something in his mind answered him.

There were blurred figures above him, moving around quickly.

The doctors, he heard again.

Was I in surgery? He vaguely wondered though his clouded mind. Awake…?

Then he woke up. As per usual, he was sweating like a pig, and the left side of his chest burned like a cattle prod. His breaths came in deep pants, and he struggled to regain his breath. That had been the most lucid dream he'd had yet. The dreams coupled with the terrible pain always a crippling feeling in their wake.

As much as he hated to admit it, even if only to himself, he was scared.

What is going on…?

"Robert Bookman," a proud, booming voice screamed, the sound echoing painfully in Lavi's ears.

But it was no scream; it was only a soft call over a microphone, though Lavi's oncoming migraine seemed to amplify every sound to an agonizing degree. He sluggishly stood from his chair, not looking at the ground nor the too-bright sky, and trudged from the second row, where he'd been seated, to the stage. Through the pain he had a fleeting annoyance. They just had to say my first name… Climbing up the steps, he smiled and pretended that his brain wasn't melting into goop, that his world wasn't slowly turning on its head.

Shaking the hand of his principal and gripping his diploma firmly in his hand, Lavi exited the stage as mild claps were heard from the audience, the sound killing his eardrums. He left immediately after and quickly made his way home, trying not to stagger into the street as his headache intensified. As soon as he made it to his room he plopped face down onto his bed, not caring to change out of his graduation gown, and clenched his eyes shut wishing for the pain to be relieved.

It had started a month ago. He already knew what was happening though, for his great grandfather had told him long ago.

His (great) gramps was a small, stern Chinese man who dressed in traditional Asian attire, which made him stand out quite a bit in California. Not that the old man cared though; he was an enigma, a seemingly emotionless being who simply stood off to the side and watched others be. There was an air of mystery constantly surrounding the man, and there were so many questions that Lavi wanted to ask him, but he never did. He figured it wasn't his place.

Gramps was a famous best-selling author known only by the name Bookman, and he requested to be called as such every time he met someone. Even Lavi had to call him Bookman; if he was caught saying Grandpa or anything of the sort he got a swift chop to the top of his head. He still doesn't know how the little man managed to reach that high…

Bookman had taken Lavi in as his legal guardian years ago. Lavi's parents had been rather busy business people and were always taking business trips. One day, as his parents were on their way to France by plane, some kind of blunt force seemed to have hit the plane and it ended up nose-diving straight into the Atlantic Ocean.

There were no survivors.

At least, that's what was determined. No one was in the plane when it was fished out of the ocean, as if they'd just dissolved, disappeared, though there was blood on some of the seats.

That had been when Lavi was 9 years old, 8 – almost 9 – years ago. Then Bookman was named as his legal guardian, and Lavi moved in with him. Not much had really changed though. Lavi had already practically been living with him anyway, what with his parents' constant absence.

Not long after the first anniversary of his parents' tragic deaths, Bookman asked to talk with Lavi in private where he told him the craziest story Lavi had ever heard.

"…I assume you know of the Buddhist belief of reincarnation…?" Lavi nodded.

"Yes," he answered, "Reincarnation is basically the concept of the soul being reborn into another body, typically human, animal or spirit, after its previous death depending on the previous life's actions." Was it ever mentioned that Lavi was a genius? Not only had he been partially raised by a human Wikipedia, but Lavi also had a photographic memory. Basically, he was an information machine and definitely the smartest 10-year-old that anyone had ever met.

"Correct. This situation is similar –" Wait. This situation? Where is he going with this…? He'd thought. " – in the fact that we are reincarnations of people from long ago, though we do not simply share a soul with these people. We are them." Lavi's jaw hit the floor as Bookman continued, "In the 19th century, we were part of a clan known as the Bookmen." Okay, this is getting freaky," Our roles as Bookmen were simple: We had to record unknown parts of history as unbiased participants and write what we saw. You were my apprentice, and we recorded 48 other wars before the 49th did us in." Bookman took a deep breath and told Lavi of The Black Order.

"The Order was a side in the Holy War, as they called it. A man called the Millennium Earl was on the opposing side. Each used supernatural 'weapons' to fight one another, and it was one of the worst wars we'd seen…" He then explained in depth about a substance the Order used called Innocence, the Accommodators that used them (Bookman and Lavi himself included), and also the Dark Matter, Akuma, and Noah that they fought against.

It was the last battle, he'd said. All of the exorcists were badly wounded fighting the Earl and the Noah, and they were about tied at the moment. Then, a boy named Allen (who'd apparently been a good friend of Lavi's) was able to deal the final blow to the Earl and finally end the horrible war.

But all was not well afterwards. The majority of the Order's members had perished in the final battle, including Lavi, Bookman , Allen, and another friend of his named Kanda. The few who were left behind, still alive, to pick up what was left all died within a few years of the war for various reasons, and the Black Order and the Millennium Earl were no more.

Everything was swell, right? No akuma, no Earl trying to eliminate the human race; all was right with the world, even without the Order and its members.

Not for too long.

Bookman then explained that, for whatever reason, akuma were showing up again. That meant the Earl had somehow come back. He told him of various akuma attacks that had happened within the last decade.

…and that an akuma had hit his parent's plane.

What? Some giant mechanical monster had been the cause of his parent's deaths? Lavi couldn't say he'd cared immensely about them, as horrible as that sounded. Then again, his parents had hardly been there throughout his childhood, and they'd only seemed interested in work back then. It did things to a kid.

But no, the biggest shock wasn't that his parents would still be here today had an akuma not been nearby, it was the fact that akuma apparently existed. He'd read about them in 200-year-old English texts, but he never thought any truth was hidden in those books.

He didn't know what to think of all of this absurd information being thrown at him. Lavi would've claimed the man telling him this clinically insane and had him carted off had it not been Bookman. He was a hard-ass, yes, but he wasn't crazy nor was he stupid. In fact, Bookman was the smartest man he knew, and with no signs insanity emerging before this point, Lavi somehow found himself slowly believing this story.

"…Why… Why are you telling me this…?" his younger self had asked, facing the floor and trembling ever so slightly as he tried to retain this information.

"Because…" he answered, "We need to record," Lavi met his hardened gaze, "…and we need to fight. The Earl has returned and so must the exorcists."

"How are we supposed to fight this guy?!" Lavi exclaimed, "We may have been exorcists in our past lives, but that doesn't mean we are now!"

"Eventually, your memories from your time as an exorcist will start to return. Many of the Order's past members have 'awakened', so to speak, and have already begun building up the order again. My memories returned some time ago, not long after my daughter was born…" He gained a far off look in his kohl-rimmed eyes, as though lost in a memory, but the look disappeared just as quickly as it emerged. "There's no telling how you will awaken, everyone is different, but you'll know when it happens…"

Another year after Lavi had been told of the Order, Bookman brought out a dusty antique mallet and told Lavi it was his old weapon. It had apparently been saved after his death and kept rather good condition considering it that it was 200 years old.

Eventually, Bookman took him to the Order's new facility, where it was under the guise of being a prestigious school. There weren't many exorcists there yet; only seven had been found so far, but two were Generals, the highest rank an exorcist could receive. Lavi also found out that this was where his grandfather's wealth was being spent; Bookman had provided all of the funding necessary to build and maintain the place, and the "school" was even named Bookman's Academy for the Gifted after him.

How the hell did Lavi never hear a word of this top notch school his grandfather apparently owned? Bookman's fans certainly knew, and there were thousands that had attempted to get into the Academy; the key word is attempted. Since this place is really a training ground for exorcists it wouldn't be good if a normal person wormed their way in, plus they'd be sorely disappointed at the lack of, well, education, book wise at least. They still gave entrance tests though, and apparently, pieces of raw innocence would be clandestinely kept inside the testing room. Innocence tended to react when an accommodator was found nearby, so if there happened to be an Accommodator taking the test they'd know. The method was effective as it had already brought them 2 exorcists.

From then on Lavi started staying at the Order during summer break and training his body the entire time. His memories still hadn't returned, but Bookman wanted Lavi to hone his fighting skills and be in peak physical condition for when they did.

And that's exactly what was happening now. His memories were returning.

For the past month he'd been getting terrible migraines. It felt as though his brain was being loaded with information and was about to burst. His left eye had also become quite sensitive, too. Just a small amount of light would irritate his eye to the point that he thought about just wearing an eye patch.

During his 'attacks' he saw death, lots and lots of death.

Bookman had said they'd seen 49 wars but man, they were brutal…

He also recalled feelings: emptiness, loneliness, and denial closely followed by acceptance and happiness. There was also plenty of fear and uncertainty splashed in between. People flashed by as though they were on film. It went by so fast he could recall little detail about the people he saw: a sad smile, a deathly glare, pitiful cries, emotional eyes, dark hair…

It had all been vague, but it was slowly coming together. Bookman said it wouldn't be too long until he was fully awoken. Until then, he'd just have to deal with the pain.

With his face still buried in his pillow, Lavi reached out and groped for the Ibuprofen sitting on his bedside table. After taking a few pills, he stripped himself of his gown, got under the covers, and fell into a fitful slumber.

Among the dark, dank, smoky atmosphere of a small bar a piano was heard. The purity of the notes to the tune being played was unexpected yet seemed to brighten up the gloomy place. A few bystanders wandering nearby would hear delightful melody and be drawn into the place, often buying a drink and sitting down to peacefully listen.

The talented player that sat before the ivory keys was but a young boy, dressed in tattered clothes with dirty hair and almost always emitted a slight stench. He appeared periodically and performed on an old dusty piano in the corner of the bar with a small tip jar to his left.

As he finished his last song for the night, the boy stood from the wooden bench he'd sat upon and dug a few dollars and coins out from the tip jar, pleased with the amount he'd made. The plump bartender stood behind the bar cleaning a mug. He waved the boy over with the rag he'd been cleaning with. "Nice job, Reed. How 'bout dinner? On the house of course." Reed wasn't the child's real name, just an alias. The bartender, Mr. Gunther, didn't believe the name either, but he chose not to question it.

Not long ago, Reed had wandered into Gunther's bar merely looking for a cheap meal. The place was open but empty. As he waited for service Reed couldn't help but notice the old piano in the corner of the room. It had been a few years since Reed had played, but when he did it was magical. His school music teacher gave him high regards on his talent and mentioned all the practice it must have taken to get to that level. Needless to say, she had been flabbergasted when Reed told her he'd had no previous piano experience. It was true, though. Reed himself was surprised at the hidden talent. It was like something in his mind clicked as his fingers pressed the keys, like muscle memory, like he'd done this many a time before.

His fingers had itched to play as he stared at the piano. Finally, he'd gotten up and sat before it. Cracking his knuckles a few times, he gently settled his fingers on the keys and played a soft melody he'd heard from somewhere. Eventually, he started changing the song, adding different elements to make the melody his own. He must have gotten really into it, because he didn't even notice the owner behind him until a word of praise was uttered. "My, boy! That was wonderful! Did you compose that yourself?"

To say that Reed had been startled was an understatement. He practically flew off the bench. Though, in the process, his foot got caught somewhere, and he ended up toppling backwards and banging the back of his head on the wooden floor pretty hard.

The man had laughed and helped him up. After more compliments were given and questions were asked the man inquired about Reed stopping by a couple times a week to play a little show. The man offered to pay Reed what he could and even included a free meal to boot.

Reed would've declined, he was a nomad, constantly moving and never staying in one place, but the pang in his stomach changed his mind. He could use some food and some money. The free meal offered each time he played would no doubt be enough to keep him from starving and the money could be saved for other necessities, so that maybe, one day, he could get off the streets and actually become a respectable member of society. It was a bit of a dream, but it was something to look forward to, so he accepted.

That's how this little routine they had got started, and Reed actually didn't mind it. Mr. Gunther was pretty good company: He didn't ask many questions, and if he did ask something Reed was uncomfortable in answering he'd quickly back off. The man knew people needed their secrets, and he never pushed for information. He was probably one of the few people on this planet that Reed could tolerate and act civil with.

They made small talk as Reed ate his dinner, and when that was finished he left. It was raining when he left the bar. Great. He hugged his holey, scuffed jacket tighter to himself in some small hope of keeping a little warmer and drier and trudged on through the rain.

This part of town was pretty empty, and what few people were there were hoodlums. Reed faintly acknowledged some poor soul getting mugged in the alley across the street by what looked to be gang members. He merely kept walking without reaching out to help.

It was sad. Reed had gotten so used to the violence and death around here that he hardly reacted when someone was being assaulted. He turned a blind eye to these dark affairs more often than not, having learned his lesson long ago.

It was about 2 or 3 years ago, he estimated. While walking down the street, much like today, he held a scuffle in an alley. When he went to check it out he saw 3 large men had cornered a pretty young woman. It was obvious what they planned to do with her. Reed attempted to break it up and take on the thugs, not even really knowing how to fight. Needless to say, he was outmatched and subdued pretty quickly, taking a stab wound, from a pocket knife that appeared out of nowhere, to the thigh and a mild concussion. As he'd lain there barely conscious the bastards continued what they'd been doing.

It was terrible. From where he'd fallen he could see everything, and it wasn't pretty. That poor girl. She screamed and cried as she was violated, but no one came to help, and Reed saw it all. He wanted to puke and cry and kill those despicable fuckers. When they were finished Reed was barely conscious. The girl laid in a heap in the back of the alley with her clothes torn and looking like a complete mess. One of the brutes gave him a swift kick to the chest as they walked by him and Reed swore he must have coughed up blood. Soon after that he'd lost consciousness.

He was extremely confused when he woke up on a comfortable bed in an unfamiliar residence the next morning. Not long after he'd awoken someone entered the room. It was the girl, the one he couldn't help the previous night. He learned her name was Evelyn. It turned out he'd been taken to her house where she'd treated his wounds. Even though he hadn't been much help she thanked him many times for at least attempting. He hadn't stayed long, only a day or two, before he left.

Though it really was much too early for him to be moving around he just couldn't stay there anymore. He couldn't take seeing her smiling face, not after what happened to her, not after what he'd seen. How could she smile like that as though it hadn't happened? It killed him inside, so he took his leave while she slept. He knew he was being a coward, but he didn't care.

After that little experience, he learned to pick his own battles. There were just some things he couldn't help with. Still, even though he avoided street fights like the plague, he'd still gotten mugged multiple times since. Those encounters had helped him a bit with his fighting skills though, so sometimes he was actually able to walk away unharmed.

It was sad that this is what his life had become.

He tried to clear his head of such depressing thoughts as he neared his "home". It was one of the many small alleys scattered around the area with a nice little flattened cardboard box for him to sleep on.

Classy, aint it?

It looked like Heaven to Reed though as his feet suddenly felt heavier with each step. He could tell another "attack" was coming on, and all he wanted to do was collapse on his lovely cardboard bed. Sadly though, the rain had ruined it. He'd have to find a new one later. For now, he settled for curling up in the damp corner as his vision blurred.

This had happened a few times before, and each time scared him more and more.

It would start with a pounding headache mostly residing on the left side of his head, probably because of the burning pain also rooting from his left eye. His mind was attacked with unfamiliar blurred images as though someone else was attempting to take over his mind, and he wanted to scream.

Next would come the alternating burning and numb sensations in his left arm. It would go from a "burning horribly in a fire" pain to a numb nerve damaged feeling where he couldn't lift his arm from his side more than a few inches.

Lastly, the most intense of his attack would come from his chest, where it felt as though it was being ripped open and yanking his heart out. On more than one occasion he was convinced he was having a heart attack, and just when he thought he was done for, the pain would start to ebb.

It was a very dramatic experience that typically lasted for 15 to 45 minutes, and he got more and more scared each time. Reed was afraid he had some kind of disease and that these "little" attacks might kill him one day, and today was no different.

As the pain left him and his mind cleared he pulled himself into the fetal position, whimpering slightly as the rain continued to pour down on him and soak into his filthy clothing.

What is happening to me?

Edit: Fixed some small errors that were bothering me; sorry if FFnet acted like this was an update XD

AN: Look whose alive! :D Welcome to my first -man multi-chapter story! This is also my first semi- AU~ I hope you guys like it! This is the longest chapter for anything that I've written in a while, but don't expect something this long every chapter ^^; This took forever to finish XD I've set a new goal for no less than 2,000 words per chapter though, so anyone whose read my previous multi-chap fic will probably be surprised XD

Warnings: Just so you guys know, some characters will be OOC. This is intentional. After all, they are reincarnations of the characters you know and love, therefore they've lived different lives which will ultimately have some effect on their personality. Don't worry though; their basic personalities will stay the same!

BTW: There will be no OC's as far as I know; If there are, they will be extremely minor.

Ideas: I really don't have any idea where I'm going with this, so I'd LOVE some ideas about what could happen. You have no idea how helpful that would be!

Also: See what I did with Reed's name? That is if you figured out who he is~ ;)

I really did put a lot of time and effort into this, so I'd appreciate it if you'd drop a little review!

LightUpMyLife