Okay, on behalf of the Lavi fans, I am starting a petition to bring that little bastard back into the manga. Hell, I don't even like him that much (except with Lenalee), but I kind of miss his ugly mug. Anyhow, welcome to chapter three! Thanks to those who reviewed! It motivates me to do this thing called "writing"! And now, without further ado . . . !
~X~
3. That Girl, Broken
The party.
Graduation.
The party after graduation.
Goodbyes.
And, as she sat in her desk chair, rapping her fingers against the keyboard, her mind continued to churn out many questions. Her computer displayed the pre-med class she so wanted to take (to ensure that she could get ahead, of course) before, yet she lacked the motivation to press on. Senioritis kicking in, she often told herself. Perhaps even I can't escape its grasp. She, however, knew better. Since Allen asked her that dreadful question of what she wanted to do, her vision snapped in two. But she chose to ignore that truth and camped in denial, where senioritis worked its magic.
She kept herself in her room most of the time. Komui often knocked on her door, asking if she were hungry, if she wanted to go to a movie with him, if she wanted to do anything (and that question had such desperation to make her come out, she almost cried where she sat). She always told him "no." If she were to work through this period, immersing herself in her studies, she might be able to find what she had lost.
If she had lost anything at all.
Wind rattled against the windows as the preludes of a thunderstorm covered the sky. The clouds churned as thunder rumbled, almost shaking the house with its ferocity. She glanced out the window, noticing the trees whipping their branches, flailing as if on fire. She saved her poorly-written essays describing the effects of certain medicines, deleted the three other rough drafts of said-essay, and turned off her computer. Nobody had tried to bring her out of her room yet; Komui had work at the lab, and she turned off her cell phone.
She felt bad for Allen. After her panic, she excused herself from the party entirely. Even Kanda, who was still snooping around the house in suspicion, asked her, "What the hell is wrong with you?". She evaded his question by calling Chaoji over to talk to him. But Allen wasn't so willing to give up on her, and he followed her outside.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She only shook her head and disappeared behind his mansion's gates, leaving him to stand alone under the darkened sky. Since then, she avoided him. During graduation, she didn't look at him. After graduation, he tried to come over to her house more than once. Komui would knock on her door and say, "Allen's here to visit you," in which she'd reply, "I'm not well enough to have visitors." And he would sigh, almost as if defeated, and would send Allen away. The numerous amount of text messages and phone calls disrupted her every time her cell phone vibrated, so she turned it off entirely.
She wanted the whole world to shut up and disappear.
And she knew that wasn't like her at all. She vowed, then, until she felt better, she would stray away from social events. Ruining anything further would probably kill her. Her world consisted of working at the convenience store at odd hours (so no one could come pester her about how she felt) and of home. She didn't get groceries anymore. Her little trips to get snacks from the bagel shop ceased completely. She blinked upon the realization that she hadn't tasted the little shop's onion bagels in over a month. Or walked through the park over the stream.
When was the last time she took a shower? The last time she ate? She forced herself to stand up, cracking her knuckles as she stretched. Lightning cracked, making her jump a little. A small, irresistible craving started working into her mind. A bagel. She could go out for one of those, couldn't she? Just make a little small talk with the person behind the desk, then go straight home. In a thunderstorm, though? Was her rationality becoming compromised as well?
Grimacing, she put on a coat. It's fine, she told herself. Just a bagel. That's all. She picked up her bag, opened it to make sure she had enough money, and stuffed in an old notebook.
Lavi's notebook.
She zipped up the bag, pulled the hood over her head, and left the house. Rain pelted against the ground, puddles quickly forming in little crevasses in the sidewalk. Trees creaked and groaned, threatening to snap in half at any moment. She pressed on.
Downtown had little people. The storm chased them off into buildings. The wind nearly knocked her over into the street once or twice. She decided to go through the park, despite the many trees that could have been a threat. Another bolt of lightning made her jump and pick up her pace faster. Her coat felt drenched, her shirt felt drenched, and even the jeans (she was wearing jeans? The thought alone startled her) were soaked. Her skin shivered as she ducked her head to prevent the rain from attacking her eyes.
And she tripped. She fell on her forearms, already feeling the bruises forming. She landed on a puddle, too, making her clothes more wet than before. Hastily, she sat up, checking her bag's contents. Her money was safe, as was her reading material. She sighed in relief before looking up, seeing spots of red draping over a bench. A coat covered his body as his head lolled in her direction. His eye blink confused, almost tiredly, for a moment, before he sat up with a jolt.
"Oh!" He looked from her to something behind her. She followed his eye to see his bike lying on the ground, wheel spinning lazily. "Oh, damn, I knew I should've moved that thing closer to me. Hey, are you okay? You look drenched. And, uh, do I know you?"
"Lavi?" She stood up when he did. His hair, drenched from rain, dripped little drops of water. He looked colder and wetter than she could even imagine.
He appeared startled hearing his own name. Eye narrowing, he leaned closer, scrutinizing her facial features before his eye sparkled upon recognition. "Lenalee!" he said, grinning. "I haven't seen you in ages, and I barely recognized you. Actually, you look kind of sick. Why are you outside when it's literally down-pouring out? You'd have to be crazy to do that. You could get sicker or something else, you know?"
"Then why are you—oh." Homeless. Lavi, the wandering (though he seemed to be done with the wandering bit) homeless person, probably didn't have anywhere to go. "Do I look sick? I don't really feel all that sick, just tired."
"Hm." He picked up his bike and leaned it against the bench. "Still, you should go inside somewhere, because this storm is gonna last a while. Maybe an hour more or so."
"What about you?"
"What? Oh, don't worry about me." His grin widened. "I'm used to this. I've seen even worse than this, too. Did you get to the part where I was in Florida in book four? That was kind of poorly planned on my part—hurricanes aren't forces to be messed with." His laugh died when Lenalee looked away. "Hey, what's wrong? You're acting all weird."
"It's fine. I'm fine. Do you want to come home with me?"
"What?"
She did a double-take. What did she just say? It wasn't like her to randomly ask questions in the middle of her thoughts. Maybe something was more wrong with her than she thought. "It's cold," she said lamely, "and, uh, I don't know. Rain. Yeah. It's raining, and, as you said, anyone would be crazy to stay outside, so I figured, since I know you're homeless, that, well, you'd want to maybe come to my house and eat something?"
Komui would flip at the mention of any other boy but Allen coming over to the house. One look at Lavi, and he would go berserk, because not only was Lavi a boy, but a homeless boy. A punk of some sort, something that could ruin her brother's "precious sister." Lavi tilted his head, almost not comprehending her offer. "Uh, Lenalee," he said, rubbing the back of his head, "are you sure you're okay? You just completely broke into a different subject altogether. You seemed composed last time I saw you . . ."
"I assure you, I'm fine." She didn't feel assured herself. Lavi gave her a disbelieving look.
"You don't look fine," he finally said. When she didn't reply, he continued, "It may just be me. And the rain, too. You really should go inside—and, please, don't worry about me."
He was hiding something. It flickered in that lone eye he had, sputtering like a struggling flame (yearning, maybe?), but it doused out quickly, as if the rain managed to crawl into his eye. "Lavi," she said uneasily, "this doesn't have to do with those people you keep mentioning in these books, does it?" When he looked away, she frowned. "It does. Are they here?" He shuffled uncomfortably. "What are you not telling me, Lavi? What are you not telling yourself?"
"I—"
"'I ran into one today,'" she started to read. "'Today, while trying to relax within this town's library. He approached without warning, and whispered in my ear as I turned the page of the book, 'You've almost lost, Bookman Junior.' Before I was able to turn my head, he was gone. I thought, at first, it was just my own paranoia. But when I looked back to the book, a checkered card rested on the pages, and, with red paint, it glistened 'Game Over.' Of course I left there as soon as I could, and I think, if I hide for a few days, I'll be fine. But will the rest of the world be?'" She closed the book, dust coming out of the pages as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Lavi laughed darkly. "I should have never given you the last one," he said.
"But you did. And now, here we are. Are you afraid of my safety if you happen to come into my house?" She outstretched her hand in front of him, her muscles not used to pulling into a smile. "That's the last entry of all of the books you gave me. Obviously, you're all right. And they will not suspect you to be in my house, of all places, right?"
"You're just looking for answers," he said quietly.
"No," she said, "just trying to help a friend. And looking for answers."
He looked at her hand for a moment before rising on his own. He led his old bicycle and followed her back to her place, though he remained quiet. She glanced at the driveway. Komui had yet to return; he probably had another all-nighter he needed to pull. She jostled the keys and opened the door while Lavi leaned his bike against the wall of the house. The rain pattered harder against the earth, rapidly creating new puddles and threatening to overflow the old ones.
"Sorry it's a mess," she said. Newspapers covered the kitchen table. Dirty dishes stacked upon one another, untouched. Komui probably didn't have the time to do any housekeeping, and with her locked up in her room all the time, no one did an ounce of housework. Frowning, she began to stack the dishes when she realized her guest had yet to enter. "Uh, Lavi?"
He stood outside the door, despite it being open. She tilted her head as he grinned sheepishly. "Yeah?"
"The door's open. Why're you outside?"
He bit his lower lip. "It is?"
"Uh, yeah. You're not blind, are you?" She stood in his path of vision, and his eye immediately followed her. "No, you're not. So, what are you doing? Do you want to get sick?"
He shook his head. "I can't get sick anyways. I'm an idiot."
"Well, stop standing outside and get in here."
"It's not that easy."
"Why not?"
"You have to invite me in."
She blinked. "Invite you? You're kidding, right? I said you could come in earlier. That sounds like something out of a mythology book, where vampires can only step into your house if you say they can." She paused. "Are you a vampire? Please tell me you don't sparkle in the sunlight and have a super-secret ability that you must hide from the human race."
"No, nothing like that." He laughed. "But, still, you have to formally invite me inside. Humor me?"
She sighed. "Fine. Lavi, you are allowed into my house."
He stepped inside, looking pleased. "Thank you," he said. He glanced around the room, then picked up one of the old newspapers. "Wow, this is dated at least a month ago. Are you planning on making some paper-maiche or something? 'Cause that's a lot of newspapers."
She started gathering said-newspapers up. "It's good kindle for the wood stove, I suppose. Let me get this cleaned up and I can make us some hot chocolate. Would you like some?"
"I'm good, thanks."
She frowned. "When was the last time you ate?"
"When was the last time you ate?" He looked her up and down. "I didn't realize this earlier—well, I did, though not this much—but you look a lot thinner. And not in a good way. Plus, your hair is ragged, and you have dark circles under your eyes. Compared to last time, you honestly look like Hell, Lenalee. Why don't you start making yourself food, and I can clean up the newspapers, okay?" He took the bunch out of her hands and started down one of the hallways.
"It's down the other way, Lavi!"
He stopped and grinned. "I totally knew that. I was just checking to see if you were paying attention."
The rain began to quiet down. Lenalee rummaged in the cupboard beneath the sink, looking for the tea kettle. In the end, she still didn't get the bagel she wanted. The thought of food made her stomach gurgle, but with Lavi out of the room, she didn't feel embarrassed. He was right, though; she didn't feel too well. She filled the tea kettle with water and placed it on top of the oven, then looked through the cabinets to find the instant hot chocolate mix. She came across a can of chicken noodle soup and placed it down onto the counter. One way or another, she was going to make Lavi eat with her.
The tea kettle began whistling. She poured the boiling water into two mugs and placed them onto the now-clean table. The hot chocolate mix swirled as she spun the spoon rapidly. She then dug a pot out of the cupboard and dumped the chicken noodle soup into it. She sneezed. Maybe she was the one coming down with the cold.
After a few minutes, the chicken noodle soup boiled. She poured it into two separate bowls before taking them down into the living room. Lavi sat in the corner on her favorite bean bag chair, watching the wood stove flicker and pop. His hair had a slight tint of orange in the flame's light. She handed him a bowl. "For you," she said, "and eat all of it. I'll get your hot chocolate, hang on."
She put her bowl down beside the wood stove and left for the kitchen before he could object. She hoisted up the two mugs and returned to where Lavi sat. He stared at his soup while toying the noodles with his spoon. She placed a mug beside him before pulling up a chair and sitting near the wood stove. The newspapers he collected sat upon the stack of wood, ready to be burned. She relaxed a little more, satisfied that the house was now a little cleaner. She sipped at her soup.
"Why did you stop writing in your journals?" she asked after the moment of silence. "I mean, you still had at least a fourth of empty pages left. And you left it off at a decent cliffhanger, too."
"I just didn't want to write anymore." He set the soup aside, untouched. "Flipping through those pages, seeing how all I've done is run away . . . I didn't want to see that. So, I gave them to you. You'll note that the last entry is the same day I saw you the first time, when I hit you with my bicycle."
"I did notice that."
His gaze wandered to her, then returned to the fire. "Did you read all of them?" he asked, picking up the mug of hot chocolate. "One through four?"
"Only three and four," she admitted. "Which is probably why I don't know who 'they' are yet. The people who are following you, I mean. And why they are following you." She gave a quick glance to see if his emotion changed—if he suddenly grew worried, or something of the like. He remained calm. She ate another spoonful of her soup. "Do you want to fill in the blanks for me?"
"It's better if I didn't."
"Why?"
He turned his head towards her. His expression revealed nothing, though his tone told her enough. "I don't want you to get mixed up with them. They are not the kind of people you want to hang out with, talk to, or anything." He motioned to the fire. "One wrong move with them, and you can become the firewood. Catch my drift?"
She nodded. "I guess. But why do they want you dead? What did you do?"
"I knew too much." He relaxed further in the bean bag chair. "I was only supposed to help them with information—who had the most money, who had the drugs to sell, who had talent for killing, who could join their movement and not be a spy . . . That was my job. I did it with complete neutrality, because that's what I'm supposed to do. But my curiosity led me to figuring something out. Something bad." His leg started twitching. "Despite my neutrality, I destroyed all of the files relating to the plan, just to set them back a little. And, through my fingerprints, they were able to determine that I had hacked into their master computer and completely sabotaged their system."
She stared at him, gripping the bottom of her bowl so it wouldn't fall out of her lap in shock. "Just what are they planning to do?"
"Something else you shouldn't concern yourself with." He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a small device, something that looked like a flash drive. "It's in here. Their whole plan. I was planning on taking it to the government, but every time I tried to get to Washington, they always cut me off and forced me back east. I've been traveling alone since I was sixteen, Lenalee. Three years worth of going from state to state, all to end up here, in the middle of nowhere. And now, I'm unable to go further."
"How come?" When he gave her a look, she sighed. "Something else I can't know?"
"You're learning fast." He grinned, but it quickly faded. "But forget that for now. What's been going on with you?"
She looked down at her soup, which was almost gone. She had no problem inquiring what was wrong with him, but now that it was her turn, she felt herself clam up. "I . . . I don't know," she said lamely. "I really don't. Lately, I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. I know I should be going to college in August to study for my medical degree. I know I should be wanting that, because not everybody is as smart as I am, regarding that field. But it's just too sudden. I don't want . . ." She looked away completely. Tears brimmed her eyes. She couldn't cry, not now. "I don't want to disappoint him. My brother. He worked so hard for me, he helped me through high school, and now I don't even want to face him. I'm such a coward."
Her shoulders wracked a little. Her self-control started to slip. Grimacing, she forced herself to smile, despite that no one saw her face. "I'm such a coward," she repeated. "And selfish. I shouldn't want to destroy what I worked for."
"Do you want to become a doctor?"
She blinked. "What?"
"I said, do you want to become a doctor?" He opened the wood stove and placed more newspapers in the fire. They caught flame spontaneously. "Do you really want to do that? Or is there something else you want to do? Nobody else matters in what you want to do. Not even your brother." He paused. "Why do you want to become a doctor?"
"I don't know. It's all too confusing. I feel like I should want to become something."
"Says who?"
"Says school. Says life. Says—"
"Says you?" He looked at her curiously. "Lenalee, not everyone figures out what they want to do with their life in just eighteen years, you know. Some people take longer. Not all people need to go to college, either. In fact, not everyone needs to go to high school." He jabbed his thumb at himself. "I mean, look at me. I dropped out of school when I turned fourteen, and disappeared off the face of the planet. I have no real name, no real family, no nothing—yet I bet you ten bucks that I have lived more than any of those people who say you need to go to college."
She frowned. "Not everyone can become a wandering hobo, Lavi."
"I wasn't saying to. I'm just saying that it's all up to you." He grinned. "No one else can tell you otherwise."
"But I want someone to show me what I should do," she whispered. "I have no idea anymore."
"Then listen to yourself. What makes you happy?"
She looked at him for a moment. "Your journals," she said. "I like the idea of traveling across the country. I've lived here my whole life, and the only other place I've been is New York to visit a college I was interested in attending. But I can't just up and leave—"
"Then it's settled!" He grinned widely. "You're going to go across the country on a bicycle. Forget college, forget what you're 'supposed' to do. If you really want, Lenalee, then I'll help you get you out of here. Out of this state. Out of this mindset that you are supposed to be conventional. I'll only help, however, if you really want me to."
"You're not serious, are you?"
"What? Of course I am! You only live once, you know." His grin twitched as his eye became clouded over with a secret sadness. "You gotta take opportunities like this by the horns or whatever and go with it. Now, do you want to?" His grin turned smaller. "Or do you not want to?"
She looked to the fire. It sparked and hissed as it tried to burn a wet piece of wood. "I'll make a deal with you," she said, returning her attention on him. He looked puzzled. "I will go across the country, but I need a reason. And that reason," she plucked the flash drive out of his bag, "is to finish what you started."
"What?" His voice squeaked. "What? Are you crazy? Did you not just hear me say to stay the hell out of their way? If they find out you have it, they'll kill you, and they won't give a damn that you're a girl!" When she clenched tighter around the flash drive, he glared. "Lenalee, think about it. You really don't want to die for something as small as that."
"You told me to think about what I wanted to do. And this is what I want to do."
"No way in hell am I letting you leave with that."
"Then why won't you finish it?" She smiled slyly. "Why are you stuck here, Lavi? Want to tell me?"
His mouth opened, then closed with a grimace. He looked to the floor, teeth bared as he muttered curses under his breath. "I shouldn't have ever given you my journals," he muttered. "What the hell was I thinking?" Sighing, he regained his composure, though he looked defeated regardless. "Are you absolutely certain? Because the first two journals were much worse than those of the third and last one. They will find you out, and they will hound you down."
"And I could get struck by a car tomorrow if I decided to go for a walk. No matter what, I'm always risking my life. Just differently."
"Lenalee—"
"You can't stop me. If you won't give me your bike, I'll get a different one." When his face furrowed into a look of worry, gave a reassuring smile. "I made up my mind. Let me help you, Lavi."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
He sighed. "I can't win against you, then. Fine. Tomorrow morning, meet me at the park, and I'll see you off from there." He hefted up his bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. "Just . . . be careful, okay?"
With that, he left the living room, the wood stove, and her. She stared after him for a moment, hearing the front door close, then sighed at her own stupidity. What was she thinking? She had no idea what she was getting herself into, how much danger she could be putting herself in. But she couldn't back down now. No, the prospect of having a challenge excited her. She stood up and took her dishes into the kitchen before picking up Lavi's.
His soup, along with his hot chocolate, remained untouched.
~X~
All right! Chapter three, done! So! Did you like it? Hate it? Love it? Destroy it? Hit me with a review, por favor! I was actually really unsure of this chapter (my editor is on break due to studying woes), but I posted it anyhow. I'm starting to regret that . . . oh well. I hope to see you in four! ~Mr. Ree
