Nameless Recorders
A D Gray-Man Fanfiction
Original RP with bacon-of-hope(tumblr)

When Allen awoke, it was to dulled pain and the scent of antiseptic mingling with the fragrance of old books all around him. The soft scratching of a quill against parchment accompanied his return to wakefulness, a steady sound to focus on as his senses returned slowly. There was still a dull throbbing in his left eye, but he found it to be covered with a dressing pad of sorts, while the other felt gritty from sleep and exhaustion, stinging when he forced it to open.

A groan escaped him as he tried to shift, but he forced himself to sit up in spite of his discomfort. He felt much better than before he had passed out – who knew how long he had been out in the first place – but he had a long way to go before he was back on his feet still. Granted, if he could help it, he would be up and about way faster than any sane person would recommend.

Still, being a parasitic type aided his healing process, so rest and a healthy amount of food (to his standards) did literal wonders to his condition.

Speaking – or rather thinking – of food: Unsurprisingly, his stomach chose that time to loudly complain about being neglected. With a healthy flush on pale cheeks, Allen attempted to turn in order to check for anyone else present, only to find (after a slight wince due to moving too rashly) the redhead from before settled against the couch with a book in his hands. Of course, by now he had caught the other's attention, and he found himself beneath the scrutiny of a single, sharp green eye.

Somehow, Allen found the will to smile kindly, a hint of embarrassment lining the curve of his lips. "Ah … hello."

It was hard to say for sure the passage of time, even being awake. The Ark didn't really experience a 'night time', so the only indicator was an old clock that wasn't always entirely accurate anyway since there wasn't always someone nearby to wind it.

It had been a couple of days. Lavi knew that for certain, but he wasn't exact on the time. Being busy with his studies meant he lost track much too often anyway to always keep track.

For the most part, the kid was little more than background noise, only drawing his attention when he needed to change bandages or louder sleep-hazed sounds suggested he might be regaining consciousness. Otherwise it was quiet and peaceful, allowing him to focus on his reading and writing.

That was, until, the sound of a loudly growling stomach sounded in the room, and not much later the wounded youth sat himself up. He would have first told the boy that the action was unwise in his condition, but the other beat him to speaking first.

"Hey," he greeted in return, offering his own lopsided smile, since that seemed the most appropriate gesture in reply to the boy's own.

Friendly and approachable.

A mantra he repeated to himself often, reminding him to mind himself around people even when he wanted nothing to do with them. Or when he didn't have a need to be that way, but practice perfected the mask.

"You're up! How do you feel?"

It was odd, somehow, to be on the receiving end of a smile like that. Friendly and open, it should have put him at ease – and perhaps it would have, if he didn't recall the way the redhead's demeanor had differed so greatly from this current display the last time he'd been conscious – but one proper look found that it didn't reach his eye. So, frankly put – Allen didn't buy it.

A fake smile could have many many reasons; Allen knew that from experience, knew how to spot one for they did say 'it takes one to know one'. For now, it only told him that there was something to be wary of, reason to be guarded – the other's dishonesty could potentially give him trouble if he neglected to take it into account.

Allen wielded faked smiles like honed weapons, his face easily so young, honest and expressive that it could make most people believe in his sincerity without him even trying. In this case, it aided him that he had all the reason to give a smile to the redhead – he was finally awake and someone was (sincerely nor not) inquiring after his well-being. So the other was rewarded with an amiable smile that was honest but for the distrust it was concealing, a light tilt of his head and an answer given in a voice slightly raspy from disuse.

"Hungry," he offered with amusement lacing the word, before adding in a slightly more serious tone, "But better, I think. Thank you."

"Yeah, I think your stomach was one step ahead of you on voicing that one," Lavi chuckled, smacking his book shut and finding his feet. He took a moment to stretch some of the stiffness from his back languidly, letting out a content sigh as he felt his muscles loosen up a bit.

"Anyway, I'd suggest not moving around too much. Those wounds you sustained were pretty bad, and I don't want to have to re-patch them." It would be annoying after all the work he'd put in to see it done right the first time. "So, you got a preference on what you like to eat?" He didn't doubt the kid did, and really he didn't have to ask, but he figured it was the more polite thing to do.

That and he didn't want things to be more trouble than they already were. Going off superficial observation, the kid didn't seem to be very hostile or difficult by nature, but complacency could easily be lost if the teen turned unhappy with his accommodations.

And he had not signed up for tantrums. Really he hadn't signed up for any of this, but it could get worse than it was at the moment.

Plus, the kid would most likely have a very limited window to enjoy anything once Road returned for her new 'toy'. Sort of like a last request kind of deal, though he didn't voice as much.

"Can't promise I can fill every request but I'm sure I can scrounge up something that's to your tastes."

Allen watched the other get up and stretch, quietly somewhat jealous of the other's mobility. If he himself dared to even try and stretch right now, well – it would not be pretty. Not at all. He didn't need the warning given by the redhead, but he held his tongue in that regard, having no intention to antagonize the other. It seemed he had enough enemies around here already, after all.

Argent hues blinked at the question after his preference before smiling at the other, pleasantly surprised by his thoughtfulness. "I really don't want to cause anyone more trouble than it's worth … but if it's possible, I'd love to have some Mitarashi Dango …? I'll eat anything though … ah, but I should warn you – I have an unusually large appetite." It seemed at least his voice was beginning to work with him properly again at least, albeit still a little wobbly-sounding in places because of how dry his throat felt. He was parched. "… say, would you have a glass of water for me, by any chance …?"

Lavi didn't waste time in retrieving a pitcher and glass, pouring some water for Allen and handing it to him. "Here you are."

He made sure to put the pitcher in easy reach as well so Allen could help himself. He didn't want to have his own time wasted with having to keep going back and forth over something so simple, even if time was something he had a lot of and not many ways to fill it. Other than studying, anyway.

"Hm… mitarashi dango? I'm not sure that's one I can get, but there's no harm in looking into it."

And how large an appetite was 'unusually large', anyway? The kid looked thin as a rail, though still with some muscle to him. Certainly, he knew some people just stayed thin no matter what or how much they ate, but the human stomach was still only so large.

At least it sounded like he wasn't at all picky about food.

"Anyway, I'll get on that. You've been out for what must've been at least a few days."

That in mind, he exited the library. It was a good walk from there to where he needed to go, but it would do him some good to stretch his legs anyway after sitting around so long. There was a long hall and a staircase before the street, and he was mentally mapping his way to the right door that would take him back to the Noah's manor, letting himself out with the key hanging from a cord around his neck.

The manor itself was a much shorter walk by comparison, and he found the kitchen quickly, which had a few maid-dressed Akuma milling about in humanish forms with grey skin and pentacle holes in their forehead. Even being that he was considered `on` their side and the Akuma had orders not to view himself or his old mentor as targets to kill, the demon weapons still somewhat unnerved him.

He briefly informed them of a need for food to be made, for himself and the other youth. It took them perhaps a half hour before he turned and led the way back to the Ark door with the Akuma in-tow carrying the plates of hot food. Even if they unnerved him, at least they were good for something other than killing.

It was probably about an hour before he and the accompanying Akuma managed to reach the library again, with Lavi at the lead. He didn't much consider, nor care a great deal, how the boy put under his care would feel about their presence, so long as he didn't cause a problem. He didn't think the kid would be physically up to causing a problem anyway.

"Food's here~" he announced, flopping down on a pillow on the floor with his own dish, while the two trailing Akuma maids presented one plate each to the white-haired boy.

Allen gratefully accepted the glass, taking a sip and sighing happily. "Thank you," he murmured, noting in silence how the redhead placed the pitcher in easy reach – a considerate thing to do, especially since Allen didn't very much like asking others for help. He hated being a burden.

When Lavi made to leave, Allen uttered another thank you and watched his retreating back until it disappeared around a corner. "… A few days …" The words hung in the air around him for a few moments before disappearing unheard, drifting away with a sigh. The others had to be w–

Eyes widening, Allen nearly dropped the glass in his hand, sitting up straight and yelping in pain for the rushed movement. The others. Lenalee.

A wave of guilt crashed over him at the realization that it had been days and he hadn't spared a thought for her – logic's argument that he had been out of it, quite literally, fell on deaf ears as he worked himself up into a state of heavy-weighing distress. He should have – what? What could he have done? Obviously, she hadn't been taken – he knew that much. And truly, he was grateful for that – he'd rather he was the one in trouble than her – but what he didn't know was why. Did Road just not care about her, or …?

No, Allen, don't think like that. You don't know what happened. And asking Lavi would have done nothing – he needed to make Road tell him when he saw her again. And more importantly, he needed to get out of here.

As it were, his chances for that seemed to be rather slim – he needed to recover his strength first and look out for opportunities. So, more determined than ever, Allen devoted himself to taking careful, measured sips of water to hydrate himself again. One step at a time.

By the time Lavi returned, the pitcher had been emptied for the most part. Allen was sat there holding a currently empty glass when he walked in, which was a good thing, because at the sight before him, it slipped past his fingertips and landed in his lap.

Suddenly, he didn't feel hungry anymore.

It was a good thing his eye was currently damaged, or he likely would have felt sick; however, he didn't need to see the tormented souls to know that they were there. Accepting the plates took him a moment longer than it should have – a moment filled with a long, deeply saddened look at the two akuma before him. At least these are only forced to serve and not to kill for now.

Still, even with the plates now before him, a rather doubtful gaze rested on the food – it looked and smelled fantastic, and even though his appetite had left him, his body demanded the nutrition – and way more than what was offered to him at the current moment, actually. But was it safe …?

Lavi didn't hesitate at all, but he had at one point. Before this particular record, he barely knew what Akuma were. He had seen them, certainly, while traveling the world, but they were quite elusive in public spaces and Bookman had always been careful.

It helped that Lavi trusted basically no one except for his mentor, after the kinds of things - of war and murder and genocide, always death and ruin, ever growing suffering and grief - that he had been witness to.

It was easy to be paranoid when the difference between human monsters and monsters in human skin was hairline thin, and as far as he could tell, humans were the worst of the two because humans actually had a choice . Akuma had no more choice to kill than a train had to follow the railroad it was situated on.

When he had first arrived with Bookman, he had been understandably wary of the demons, but he had learned to grow complacent with their presence and that their food was perfectly safe to eat. Whether or not it tasted good though was another matter of hit-and-miss, though thankfully nothing had been bad enough to ruin his appetite yet. He was always holding that last yet somewhere in the back of his mind.

He caught the boy hesitating out of the corner of his eye, and figured the kid probably had as much reservations about the food as he had once had. Especially being that he was one of the few people in the world who knew exactly what Akuma were.

"Its not poisoned or anything if that's what you're worried about. These guys only do as they're told and I got no reason to do that to you."

Even if he had a reason, he didn't fancy the idea of Road turning him into her replacement toy, which she would very much do. A lesson he had learned the hard way was to avoid getting roped into the girl Noah's "games" at all costs.

"Besides, dealing with corpses is a bigger hassle than dealing with the wounded, not to mention more disgusting. Not exactly what I'd consider dinner entertainment." Maybe not the most gentle way to put it or entirely reassuring - or appetizing - but he figured it probably got the point across fine enough. "Name's Lavi, by the way, or you can just call me Junior. Whatever works for you."

Lavi had a point of course – and it made little sense for them to poison him if Road had chosen to kidnap him instead of finishing him off in the Rewinding Town. Besides, as a parasitic accommodator, he could neutralize akuma poison, so he should be fine even if the food was not okay. His stomach grumbled again, clearly demanding a decision of him, and with a quiet sigh, he resigned himself to digging in. He needed the strength, after all.

The first bite was just fine, but the second turned bland within his mouth when the redhead continued talking. Allen was struck by a wave of discomfort at his words – clearly, he more than disliked having to take care of him, not to mention the coldness with which he spoke of corpses so nonchalantly. It was disconcerting to hear such indifference – not even indifference, really, more like disdain – and he barely tasted the food as he swallowed. This stomach-churning attitude of his had to come from somewhere …

"… I'm Allen." The words sounded almost withdrawn – and they were followed by another forkful of food, a good excuse to fall silent again and mull over this new development.

Lavi noticed the tone – was he being a little too unfriendly, maybe? – but it wasn't really required of him to be friendly or even civil. Technically Allen was on an enemy side in war, but he found that acting approachable made encounters easier, even if he didn't feel all that cheery.

He inwardly shrugged it off. It wasn't as though he was trying to be particularly rude, he simply didn't put much importance on putting much effort into being particularly polite either or filtering his mouth as much.

At least he had someone to talk to outside the usual lot though. His old man was stuffy and all-business, Road was completely crazy, Tyki was mostly a bore, and the Akuma were completely useless to even try talking with. The rest didn't really have an interest in conversation.

"Nice t' meet ya, Allen." He paused just long enough to shovel another spoonful of food into his mouth, definitely feeling the sting of hunger now that he wasn't distracted by his studies.

"So-," he swallowed what he was eating, "-how long's the Order had you enlisted for?"

Nice to meet you, he said. It struck Allen as funny how much it seemed to him like that wasn't really the case, but he said nothing along those lines. Instead, he offered him a polite smile and an, "It's nice to meet you, too." He had manners, after all.

Even if the amount of food Lavi had gotten him was not nearly enough to fill his stomach, it was a start and it was one that he needed to regain his strength and accelerate his healing process. And so he ate, trying not to do so at too fast a pace so he wouldn't freak the poor guy out.

The question he was then asked left him shrugging – which caused him to wince in pain and instantly regret the motion. "Officially …? Perhaps for a month or two."

"Only two months?" That was an extremely brief amount of time, though he was sure some probably hadn't managed to last even that long. Of course given Allen's age and size, that might have still been an accomplishment, all things considered.

Really though, against a Noah like Road? He didn't stand a chance.

Lavi wasn't sure he'd say it was lucky that Allen had survived though, considering what Road probably intended for him.

"Man, you really got the short stick, huh?" It sucks to be you was itching on the edge of his tongue, but he wasn't quite that tactless and managed to keep it to himself. "I guess things could be worse though, ya?"

Allen almost wanted to laugh. For some reason, the fact that Lavi's view on his situation differed so greatly and yet the redhead had no qualms stating that things could be worse despite knowing so little about his life was … oddly amusing to him. Of course, things could be worse – but he'd be damned if things weren't royally screwed up already. Still, that wasn't by any means for the reasons Lavi believed it to be, and that was what made it so ironic.

Of course, Allen never stopped for long enough to truly think about everything that was wrong with his life – he would have a hard time getting out of that spiral once he entered it, so he avoided it at all costs. Instead, he paused eating for long enough to say, "Life isn't ever easy, but I don't intend to sit around complaining. I have made oaths I don't intend to break, so I will keep walking forward."

There seemed to be an unspoken 'and I won't let anyone stop me' lingering in the air as he resumed eating, but he didn't voice his determination in that regard. He wanted it to be true, but his confidence was wavering; a destroyer who can save is who he wants to be – but then what did it mean that the ones he was fighting were humans too ..? How could it be that humans would do such a thing …? Ever since his encounter with Road, those questions had been a leaden weight in his stomach, and even now they brought a frown to linger on his lips as he brooded over it all.

"Well, yeah, no one said it was easy," Lavi shrugged. "For some, it's definitely harder than for others though. Not even born with the same basic rights really, otherwise this might actually be a perfect world after all."

Maybe he was being too cynical and melancholic. He had too much time to simply sit and think these days, maybe. A similar spiral to the one Allen avoided was more familiar to him than being free of it. It wasn't so much what was wrong with his life – what 'life' does a bookman have, anyway? – but more what was wrong with the entire world, with the creatures calling themselves 'human' and their ever ongoing conflicts, and that was far more impossible to fix than any personal woes.

Then there were people like this Allen guy. His determination even in the face of the more likely outcome for him was…

…is 'noble' the word? Maybe 'admirable'? All the same, very naïve. He knew that much. Maybe 'stubborn' was the other word. Naïve and stubborn were a bad combination that could only lead to one end, given the circumstances.

"Ah, well… never mind that, you like the food?" Probably overdue for a change in overall tone, his social training kicking in. Besides - he reminded himself - the kid probably didn't have long anyway, maybe a few days. That was more than most got in the crossfires of war. "I was surprised the first time, since they say you gotta taste the food to know if its any good, but these Akuma actually aren't always too bad at it."

Allen hummed quietly – there was little he could say to contradict the other's statement. There were a lot of things wrong with this world indeed … too many to really know where to start trying to make things better. So in the end, Allen saw himself as a small man, merely trying to help the ones before him – he would make a difference where he could and try to right what's within his reach. And silently, he thought to himself that if only everyone had this mindset, perhaps the wrongs of the world would be righted without a greater help being necessary.

"… it's good," he mumbled reluctantly for the sake of going along with the topic change. Although thoughts of the akuma easily dampen his mood, he had to admit that the food was decent enough. It just didn't sit well with him at all to use those tortured souls – whether it was for battle or as servants, it was cruel and inhumane, and the longer he thought about it, the more disgusted by it he felt. A small part of him remained glad still that his left eye was out of commission … he knew he would lose all his appetite if he had to see their souls as well.

He was silent for a long moment before speaking up again, a hint of dread and grief seeping into the tone of his voice. "…. how can you work beside them as if it's nothing?"

Lavi tilted his head ever so slightly.

"Why? Should I feel bad for them or something?" It wasn't as if he was ignorant to how Akuma were created, or from what. They were essentially a manifestation of a soul; of humans who had died and been brought back, when such a thing should never happen.

Even so, there was one inevitability that he saw no sense in overlooking.

"Akuma are just tools of war, like a catapult or a sword. Its no worse than any other weapon human beings have concocted throughout the ages to kill and maim each other. The only thing that's changed is the method of forging them."

As far as he saw it, Akuma were no more tragic than a corpse, or prisoners of war, and he had seen a lot of both. He knew for a fact that he had seen much more of it than Allen had, because seeing such things was his life profession since he was young. He had seen far too much of what humans could do to start grieving over it now, and the only real solace he had was being able to tell himself that he was better than all that.

Even when it came to the Noah Clan, who claimed themselves to be above other humans, it was no different. They claimed they were doing "god's work" by making weapons and eradicating the lower sub-human kind that dominated the earth, but how many times had he heard something like that before? Religion was as much a weapon as any blade or gun. Physically, they were much sturdier than the average human, but in nature, they were still just the same.

And humans who fought for a "greater cause", to defend their family or whatever else, were as much fuel for the fire as those who fought for deplorable reasons. He didn't have such attachments and a need to defend anything but the records that he kept, so even then, he had no reason to fight or to kill, and that - as he saw it - made him better than those around him.

In all aspects, he was removed from war and conflict, forbidden from adding to it, and as such, superior.

"If you want to feel bad over them, then that's your choice, but honestly it just sounds like a huge waste of energy. Its like crying because someone crafted a knife and then used it to stab."

'Should I feel bad for them or something?'

The blunt question left Allen staring at Lavi, lips parted slightly in disbelief. To him, even just asking this was beyond insensitive – speechless, he could only stare at the redhead in an attempt to comprehend his view on the matter. Ignoring how his mind continued to chant a series of 'no's in various degrees of dismay, he waited until Lavi had finished, trying his hardest to wrap his head around how someone could possibly be that wrong.

"… you don't understand …" It was little more than a quiet whisper, filling the void where Lavi's words had now ceased to fill the silence. Distress rang clear in his voice, gloved fingers tightening just subtly around the fork in his faintly trembling hand. He knew that, logically speaking, he could not blame Lavi for not knowing what he did, but that did little to lessen the shock that had settled deep in his heart. "… you don't understand … you can't just compare them to an inanimate object, because they're not … they're not like that …"

I hear them – the souls. I hear them whisper, I hear them scream – I hear them beg for someone to help them, save them from this hellish fate they're chained to – and I can see them suffer, doomed to kill when they should be resting in peace. Don't you dare tell me this isn't worse than a sword or a knife … you don't understand anything.

"I don't understand what, exactly? That they were once human too?"

He almost slipped to bark that becoming an Akuma was probably an improvement from "human", but he managed to hold his tongue. He wasn't looking for a fight, and for some reason, clearly it was a sensitive subject to Allen.

"I probably know a lot more about the Akuma than you do, kid. Sure, they're tragic, but death always generally is. Hasn't stopped anyone for the tens of thousands of years they've been around from making weapons to kill each other. Akuma are only the most recent variation, and its only going to get worse from here."

Really though, this kid had only been an Exorcist within the Black Order for a few months, so who was he to lecture? 'Lavi' had been watching this war for two years. He wasn't about to take lip from a kid of barely fifteen with little real world war experience.

A different kind of war, but war all the same.

He shrugged, unaffected. "That's just the way things are." That's just the way that people are. Words that were as much a persuasion as they were reaffirmation.

Allen gritted his teeth, forcing his body to stop quivering and his anger down. It was beyond aggravating to be called a kid as if he didn't know anything, when the one who had no idea what he was talking about was Lavi. How one could be so nonchalant and so utterly ignorant in the face of this was beyond him, and it took all of Allen's willpower not to snap at him.

"They're in pain," he croaked out, somehow managing to talk around the nausea that had settled in his gut. His voice shook with a mixture of anger and dread, softened only mildly by the knowledge that Lavi couldn't know better. "The souls – they're in agony."

He took a deep breath to calm himself, stabbing his fork into a piece of meat with a little too much force. It was important that he made himself eat, no matter how sick he felt after this conversation; if he intended to get out of here, he had to regain his strength. Yet no matter how much he wanted to drop the conversation, he couldn't help adding in a quiet whisper, "… you don't know what it's like." You don't know anything.

Lavi only glanced the younger male out of the corner of his eye. Exactly how would Allen know that with such conviction? More importantly, why would it matter? The exorcist said that as if humans who fought in war didn't experience suffering already, as if it was that much different.

You don't know what its like. Oh, how he felt like returning those words.

The number of times he'd seen bodies piled high on a pyre or in a mass grave… The number of times he'd been grabbed and pulled into a medical tent just shy of a battlefield or some hidden ditch away from the fighting because there were too many wounded and too few hands to treat them all and the child that he was at the time didn't have the proper experience to do a damn bit of good. The number of times he'd stood at the edge of Hell watching people die and was meant to record and write down every detail as if it were a mere, distant storybook tale. The number of times he watched people grieve for themselves and grieve for others, helpless to do anything except for cry about it.

Exactly what didn't he understand that this brat did?

All of it sat on the tip of his tongue, made his jaw tremble faintly with the itch to throw it in the other's face, but he didn't. He wasn't about to keep arguing with a bull-headed brick wall.

"Regardless, it doesn't matter unless you can do something about it, and even if you can, chances are it won't even be a dent in the grand scheme of things, "he huffed, setting aside what was left of his food. He didn't feel very hungry anymore anyway.

Reading though… that was likely to take his thoughts off unpleasant things. That in mind, he picked up the nearest book and fell onto his side, pointedly away from Allen as he found the page he'd last left off on.

"Ideals and reality rarely align. That's simply how the real world works. You can either accept it or deny it, but it doesn't become any less true just because of how you feel about it."

Tasteless. The piece of meat he'd forced into his mouth tasted of nothing but cardboard, nausea curling within his stomach and making him wish he wasn't trying to feed himself so hard. But he needed it, he knew he did – no matter how sick he felt at the moment.

Feelings of anger, dread and disgust clouded his mind, left him with his focus narrowed down to the plate in front of him – he didn't pay any attention to the redhead beside him, didn't notice his struggle with his own thoughts and couldn't find it in him to care about what Lavi thought if it continued to remain so ignorant.

He pretended it didn't faze him that Lavi rightfully deemed his endeavour pointless.

Allen himself couldn't think of it this way – he couldn't allow himself to. Perhaps he barely made a difference in the grand scheme of things, but that did not mean he didn't make a difference. He couldn't allow himself to think that way, not ever.

"It must be nice to care so little; I can't do that." He spoke quietly, not looking at Lavi nor caring what sort of impact his cutting words might have. The ones that follow are a little softer, and it's hard to tell if they are truly directed entirely at Lavi or if they serve more as a reminder for Allen himself. "I am a small man; my heart is moved by what's in front of my eyes, not by what the world needs. I just can't abandon what's there in front of me. I want to protect everything I can – maybe I can't make a difference in the bigger picture, but if I can protect just one person, I've not fought in vain."

That was all he was going to say on the matter, he decided as he took another bite of his meal, forcing himself to swallow. There was a moment of silence before he lightly asked, "… by the way, could I maybe have seconds?"

Lavi was reading, but he was still hearing the spoken words. Must be nice to care so little. He almost laughed. It wasn't about what was nice. If he tried to think of anything nice about the things mankind did off the top of his head, he pulled a blank, or at worst, he instead recalled the horrifying things they were capable of. His job wasn't to care. His job was to record. Caring only tainted the lens and muddled the truth.

Must be nice not to care? Must be nice to still be so naïve.

How could he bring himself to care about creatures that were so pathetically, dumbly cruel to their own kind, going out of their way to kill each other for tens of thousands of years?

"Well, you heard 'im," Lavi drawled at Allen's request, his words directed at the Akuma maids. "Kid's still hungry."

The Akuma bowed and dismissed themselves, taking empty plates with them as they departed for the door. Lavi kept his focus on his book, not dignifying the other boy with his attention. He didn't foresee the conversation going much of anywhere relevant at this point anyway, and he was still feeling bristly from what words they had exchanged already.

He heard footsteps approaching again but it was too soon for it to be the Akuma returning with more food. Lavi could recognize the steps almost immediately, the same ones he'd heard just ahead of him for most of his life. He didn't even have to look up before greeting them, and seeing their stature at the edge of his vision was confirmation that he was definitely not mistaken.

"Hey, Panda- Ow!"

He reeled and held his head in pain. By the time he looked up again, the old man's hands had already disappeared again in his sleeves, weathered face as stone-cold impassive and impossible to read as always.

"Did you finish writing out those reports I asked for?" Bookman rasped.

"Uh, yeah, they're just over there with the others, in the review pile," Lavi pointed, still holding his head with the other hand. For as old as he was, Bookman could still hit hard. "Finished 'em up last night."

"Good," Bookman hummed in approval, before his gaze wandered to Allen. "Do please pardon the interruption. I didn't know you had regained consciousness when I first came in. I hope that my apprentice is treating you well."

Allen relinquished his plate to the akuma with a measure of unease, still not entirely comfortable using them in such a way but hardly able to do anything about it at the time being. It seemed Lavi was quite done talking to him for now – just as well, he figured, for it didn't seem like they were going to get along. Sighing softly to himself, Allen wondered if he was doomed to run into guys who wouldn't find it within themselves to care if he caught on fire. First Kanda, now this guy – perhaps he should just stick to Lenalee.

The thought of his Chinese companion further dampened his spirits – he still didn't know if she was okay, and concern twisted painfully in his gut, the taste of bile in his mouth making him wish that the food he requested would be a while.

As if on cue, the sound of light footfalls reached his ears and he suppressed a groan, turning his head slowly (mindful of his injuries, still) to find with surprise a tiny old man approaching the couch he was occupying. Not a Noah – perhaps an akuma …? Wary but curious eyes watched as he approached, studying the man's unusual features – he had but a second to silently, begrudgingly give credit to Lavi for seeming to recognize the old man by his footsteps alone before he found himself wincing in sympathy. No akuma then, judging by Lavi's reaction. That hit ought to have hurt – he supposed, though, that Lavi deserved it for showing such disrespect. Not that 'Panda' wasn't a fitting nickname.

Meekly, Allen watched the two of them interact, feeling more than out of place – by the time the old man turned his attention towards him, the exorcist hadn't quite expected being addressed anymore and needed a moment to gather his thoughts. His apprentice, huh? Somehow, that made it easier to understand their rather curious relationship. "Er– please don't worry about it. Thank you for asking, umm …?"

Lavi continued rubbing his head, sneaking in a dirty look at Bookman while he did so. If the old man saw it - and he probably had - he said nothing, focus having entirely shifted to Allen at this point.

Fine enough. He could return back to his reading, at least for a short while, though he was still keeping one ear to Bookman and Allen.

"Call me Bookman," the elder introduced curtly, though his still-sharp eyes were scrutinizing the boy intensely. "Unless I'm mistaken, you're Allen Walker, correct? I heard about you from the two who initially brought you here. I trust that my student has already introduced himself by now."

As if to be sure, he briefly glanced at the redhead, who took his attention away from his book just long enough to glance back, then promptly went back to reading as he were ignoring the entire affair, which was still half-true.

"Excuse me for being blunt, but would you mind if I had a look at your wounds? I like to double-check Lavi's handiwork every now and again to make sure nothing was missed, especially when dealing with more severe injuries, and besides that it would be best to change the bandages for fresh ones sooner rather than later."

Bookman, huh? What an odd choice of name. Then again, Allen supposed it was none of his business really what the old man chose to call himself. "That's correct," he confirmed, respectfully inclining his head in spite of the mild discomfort caused by the movement. "And yes, he has. It's nice to meet you, Bookman."

The man's request came as a bit of a surprise simply because Allen couldn't understand why the enemy would have any interest in ensuring his health. Somehow, it made him feel uneasy … but there was no point in denying help, was there? Besides, the old man carried a calm and authoritative air about him that made it hard not to instinctively follow his request as if it was an order. He didn't seem like a man who appreciated disobedience, at any rate. "… ah, of course – go ahead if you wish."