A/N: I told you that this update was going to be faster and it was! I feel proud of myself.
It's weird. The more productive I am at school the more I write this. It's probably the two hour bus ride home.
Once again, all of you beautiful people that have favorite, followed, and reviewed have a special place in my heart. Speaking of that, I've broken the triple hundred marker! I have over one hundred favorites, reviews, and nearly two hundred follows. I never thought for a moment that so many people would like my crappy writing. Just… thank you.
It's been a long week for me. I have had (and still do have) way too much homework and assignments. And I'm quickly realizing that I really hate dimensional analysis in chemistry when it involves finding the diameter of a single atom after being given their mass and the container that they're inside of. That's coming back to haunt me in my nightmares.
But enough about my real life problems. That's not what fanfiction is for.
Oh, and the texts are bolded.
Disclaimer: Haibanashi does not own D. Gray-Man, The Odyssey, or any of its characters (though I wish I did). Haibanashi makes no profit off of this story.
Warnings: Very minor sexual identity crisis, denial, and some swearing. Not as much self-depreciation in this chapter.
Let's go!
Lavi ran a hand through fiery hair, trying his best to tease out the knots between his fingers as he dutifully scribbled out the answers to his history homework. History was such a beautiful thing. It was like a murder mystery novel of the world with more drama, innovations, and art than any novel could ever hope to capture. And there was far more murder than any one killer could come up with. It was the history of the world, after all.
Right now, he was filling out the worksheet that was due on Monday, textbook sitting to his left, unopened and unread. It was only the first quarter, the second week at that, so everything was still review of last year's world history class. And Lavi would be damned if he didn't know every answer on the worksheet about the four main river valley civilizations.
Now there was the question of why Lavi was working diligently on a Friday night for an assignment that wasn't due for another three days. The answer was something that he refused to acknowledge. History helped him clear his head and took his mind off of certain… things that had occurred earlier in the day. Oddly enough, Lavi found that he did his best thinking when history or worldly affairs were some how involved.
Weird? Sure. But it worked so Lavi was sticking to it until he found something more effective.
He lifted his pencil from the paper and skimmed through his answer one last time. Yup, seemed good. Onto the next question.
He continued to scrawl out his responses, falling into a repetitive yet enjoyable pattern, knowing that they were right. Lavi was halfway done when he realized that he had forgotten why he was doing his homework. What was it again —?
Oh. That.
"Fuck," Lavi hissed, piling his arms onto his desk before burying his head inside. The heat from his face was only amplified.
Allen had smiled. So what? He had already determined the cause for his strange reaction. Why was this still bothering him so much? All the freshman had done was move his lips into an upward curve. Yeah, so Lavi could see his face this time. And sure, the way that Allen's face had softened all around the edges was kinda… adorable, he supposed. And maybe that spark of liquid silver running through his eyes had been breathtaking. And yeah, Lavi had kinda wanted to lean forward —
"Stop!" Lavi yelled. He refused to let that train of thought continue. And it wouldn't. The implications, however, were enough to stain his ears and neck a nice shade of scarlet.
He had already worked this out! But… why did his mind engage in such mutinous thoughts? Could there be an answer that he hadn't thought of yet?
Okay, let's see… Lavi's eyebrows furrowed into a frown of concentration as he straightened himself up in his seat. The first option was the one that he had reached earlier; the feelings were entirely platonic and his lunch hadn't been has fresh as it should have been. That had already ruled out, though, with the consideration of… things… yeah. Let's go with that.
Second option… uh… he would come back to that one once everything else was ruled out.
Third option… Allen could be an alien? Maybe? He was British so it was technically that same thing. Right?
Even to Lavi that sounded pathetic. That only left option two… but that wasn't possible. Nope. Not at all.
Lavi's eye drifted to the floor as he remembered the words of his favorite fictional consulting detective: "Once you have ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true."
"Dammit," Lavi sighed.
It seemed as if he might have a small crush on Allen.
But didn't everyone get a weird pseudo-crush on their friends at least once? This wasn't even a crush. This was a micro crush. No, a proto crush. It was barely a thing. Lavi could clearly recall a time when he thought he had been completely head over heels for Lenalee. He had rather suddenly come to the conclusion that what he felt was nothing but temporary when he met Komui. The lunatic of a brother had successfully deterred Lavi from ever thinking of engaging in a relationship with Lenalee and Lavi was only mildly surprised when he realized that it didn't bother him in the least.
So it wasn't that weird that Lavi had a proto crush on Allen. The only difference was that Allen was a guy. And what Lavi felt now wasn't as forceful as what he had felt for Lenalee or other girls. But that was a good thing. The different feelings, that was. It meant that his short-lived affection for Allen would diminish at a faster pace. All he had to do was wait it out and everything would be fine.
… Right?
Of course he was right. He was Lavi Bookman, after all.
Glad that he had resolved the problem once and for all and that he now had a plan of action, Lavi put away his homework before flopping onto his bed to text Daisya about meeting up to go to the movies over the weekend. Things would be normal in no time.
Of course, there wouldn't be much of a story if Lavi was correct, now would there?
.:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:
Allen let out a relieved sigh as he finished his reading of The Odyssey for English. He loved literature, truly, but Homer's works were always draining to read. Translating ancient Greek to English was hardly smooth and that caused an awkward pace throughout the heroic epic/poem. Plus, there was the fact that at parts where it seemed like it should have rhymed, because it should have, there was just an out of place word.
Allen gingerly closed the book and placed it onto the coffee table. He still had more work to do but he would take a break for now, lest he fry his brain with algebra and then biology homework. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time to be somewhere around seven o'clock.
"There should be something on the air," Allen mumbled as he grabbed the remote and pressed the on button. He was looking over the channel guide when he heard his phone go off. He saw Tim jolt at the high-pitched ding and flutter over curiously to inspect the source of the unfamiliar noise.
"Odd," Allen spoke aloud to himself, "what's that about?"
He made the short ten-foot and anti-climatic journey to the kitchen to pick up his phone. His screen illuminated and proudly displayed that he had received a message.
After hastily typing in his passcode, Allen opened the message app. He didn't recognize the number of the sender. Wary, Allen hesitated a moment before selecting the message.
[Unknown Number]
Hey moyashi! Hows it hangin
[Received 7:05pm]
Allen squinted at the enigmatic (not to mention horribly spelt) text message. Either someone had typed in the wrong number or… someone had probably typed in the wrong number.
The word moyashi, though… Allen had seen enough anime to supply him with a limited Japanese vocabulary. And moyashi was one of them. The chance of someone typing in the wrong number and calling the intended recipient a beansprout… Allen started typing.
[Me]
Lavi, is that you?
[Sent 7:07pm]
[Unknown Number]
Oh i probably shuda told u that but its ok
[Received 7:08pm]
Allen sighed. He gave himself a little pat on the back for his deduction skills and added the redhead to his contacts before replying.
[Me]
Your spelling is abhorrent. And yes, you most definitely should have. I had half a mind to tell you that you had the wrong number. And don't call me beansprout.
[Sent 7:12pm]
[Lavi]
Ahhhhhhhhh you're the grammar natzi! Someone save mehhhhhhhhhhh D:
And who said anything about beansprout?
[Received 7:14pm]
[Me]
First of all, it's spelled "Nazi" and I would recommend that you not go tossing that around to others. Secondly, I do know what moyashi means, despite what you may think.
[Sent 7:17pm]
[Lavi]
Dammit and i thought i had u, 2. And get used to meh speling. Ima lazy texter
[Received 7:19pm]
[Me]
I have a horrible suspicion that you are doing it on purpose now.
[Sent 7:20pm]
[Lavi]
Im not actually. Doin it on purpose. This is how i text everyone. To much effoort
[Received 7:22pm]
[Me]
I think that I may just cry.
[Sent 7:23pm]
Allen grinned at the virtual banter that he was engaged in with Lavi. It was quite fun, truth be told. He couldn't think of another time that he'd had such a good time over text.
[Lavi]
Aw, dun cry Al. Its just spelling.
[Received 7:25pm]
[Me]
Yes, it's spelling and that's why it matters. Don't you have autocorrect at the very least?
[Sent 7:27pm]
[Lavi]
Autocorrect sucks. i turnd it off cuz it messed up my txts even more. how can u text like ur writin a school paper?
[Received 7:30pm]
[Me]
Through years of practice and an ancient technique that has been passed down through the ages.
[Sent 7:34pm]
[Lavi]
ive probably said ths already but ur rly sarcastic.
[Received 7:35pm]
[Me]
It's a gift at the best of times and a curse at the worst.
[Sent 7:37pm]
[Lavi]
i can believe that
[Received 7:38pm]
[Lavi]
Shit, gramps is home. Gotta start doin meh chorse. TTYL
[Received 7:39pm]
Allen read the last text. That was a bit of an abrupt end but he didn't truly mind. The half hour that he had spent messaging Lavi had gone quicker than he would have guessed. It was definitely preferable to studying.
Speaking of studying… Allen turned slowly and fixed his biology textbook with a look of derision. Better start reading if he wanted to do well on his quiz he had Monday. A defeated slump on his shoulders, Allen cracked open the book and began reading about the less than thrilling world of water quality.
.:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:
Lavi unloaded the dishwasher as the panda leafed through a stack of documents about… something. Lavi had no idea and he didn't care enough to find out. He placed the bowls and plates in the cabinets with practiced ease.
After Daisya had texted back with an affirmative, Lavi's mind had immediately jumped back to Allen (and if Lavi was honest with himself he would have admitted that Allen hadn't even left his thoughts). He needed to start building a resistance to his feelings and the only way to do that would be to expose himself to Allen as much as possible. That way he'd be used to the weird emotions and they'd go away quicker. He was hitting two birds with one stone! He was brilliant.
So he's shot a text to the freshman and they'd had a fun little talk. Well, not a talk, per say, but close enough. He had liked it and he hadn't felt the odd rush that he had earlier. He was getting over everything faster than he would have anticipated.
Bookman glanced up from his papers. "Would you stop humming?"
He had been humming? "Uh, yeah. Sure."
Bookman simply nodded before he returned to reading whatever it was he was reading.
Lavi started moving again after a short pause. Things were going great.
.:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:
Allen curled into himself further, breathing deeply and completely content. He was in that beautiful state between sleep and awareness where time seemed to blur in the warmth of his bed while thoughts sluggishly trailed through his mind. These peaceful and listless moments were little everyday miracles that Allen treasured.
Alas, this morning was not one that promised hours of that half oblivion.
"Tim, stop," Allen whined. "I'm still sleeping."
The golden pet would have none of that, however, and gave a not so gentle bite to the freshman's ear.
"Tim!" Allen's body jerked and his hand shot up to cover the area that Timcanpy had bit. "No biting!"
Allen swore that if Tim had a face of any sort that it would be fixed with exasperation. The aura radiating from the pet was enough in itself.
Allen sighed. Tim probably wanted to eat and he was already up now. "Fine, I'll get your breakfast. Sheesh, you're a demanding little guy."
Tim fluttered happily behind Allen as he pulled himself out of bed and navigated his way into the kitchen. He opened the fridge with a yawn and pulled out the carton of eggs. He found the pan he needed and the small metal mixing bowl. He turned on the stove before he cracked a few of the eggs (if one could call fifteen a few) into the bowl and whisked them up. Tim watched expectantly as Allen poured the eggs into the pan and began to cook.
Three minutes and a few yawns and stretches later, Allen placed about one third of the scrambled eggs into the dog bowl that he used for Timcanpy and set it on the floor. The winged creature darted to the food the second the rim of the bowl touched the ground. Allen took the remaining eggs, dumped them onto a plate, took out a fork, and began to tuck in.
Living with Cross had helped him learn quite a bit, but there were two things that still applied when living alone. One of them being good (read: cheating) at poker quickly gets you any money that you needed. The former helped him pay off the debts his master had accumulated and Allen was considering returning to gambling if Cross didn't come back again soon. A month had nearly passed since he had left.
And he had just gone on a tangent. Back to the matter at had, the reason he wasn't absolutely helpless with cooking was because Cross wouldn't make food. Or buy any, for that matter. And when he did, Allen didn't get much of it. Thus the second major lesson of living with Marian Cross was established: you have to eat what you cook. The first few conquests that Allen had made in the kitchen were usually vile but he got better as time went on. Or all of his taste buds were dead. Allen liked to think that he had gotten better.
After he scraped the last bit of eggs off of his plate, Allen pushed back from the table with a sigh. His stomach, thank god, was full now. And as unintentional as it had been, his little tangent earlier had brought up an important point. He needed money if he wanted to stay in the house. Either that or get put into a foster system. And there was no way Allen was going to go for the latter.
Gambling was definitely an option. However, the restrictions of it in America seemed a lot stricter than some of the other places that Cross had dragged him. He didn't want to get in trouble with any figure of authority. Not only would it mar his near perfect record but it would also cause some hype. And someone who planned to swindle poor fools out of their money didn't want anyone to know about it until after it happened.
Finding a job would be a challenge, too. Allen wasn't completely certain, but he was pretty sure that he had to be sixteen to get a job in a store in which he knew no one. And many jobs required uniforms, if not then at least human interaction. He wasn't shedding his hood yet nor did he want to be questioned and judged by random strangers. Not at all. He wanted to stay as low key as humanly possible.
"Why is life so hard, Tim?" Allen asked. Although he genuinely didn't like how things seemed to be turning out, his question was nothing more than an airy complaint. Sure, his life hadn't been the best it could be, but it could have also been far worse. People always said that you had to do what you could with the hand that life deals. And unfortunately, you couldn't always have the winning hand hidden up your sleeve.
.:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:
Lavi really wished he had Allen's mad running skills. How the hell did someone so small and thin run like an Olympic gold medalist? Lavi sure would love to know at the moment.
"Slow down you fucker and let me cut you!"
Ah, and there was the cause of his jealous thoughts. Kanda was chasing after him and Daisya with a considerably large pocketknife. Yeah, sure, Lavi and Daisya probably shouldn't have poured their leftover soda from the movies on the Japanese teen but Lavi didn't think Kanda would actually try to maim them.
Why was he friends with Kanda again?
Lavi flashed a glance over his shoulder. Kanda was red in the face from both the running and his rage, a snarl fixed onto his face. Daisya, the lucky bastard, had veered off earlier and was a lot faster than Lavi. And that was why Lavi was fleeing of imminent death as it raced after him.
If he could just make it to his house he'd be fine. Or somewhere with a lot of people. Kanda was violent, fierce, and had a temper the length fuse of a bomb but he wasn't stupid. Attacking Lavi would attract someone's attention. And the police weren't the part that Kanda wanted to avoid. It was the lecture from Tiedoll that he would receive.
Lavi made a mental side note that it actually sounded like he was in a life-threatening situation. He immediately made another one that an angry Kanda was a life-threatening situation.
And even with the adrenaline rushing through him, Lavi could start to feel the slight burn of fatigue in his legs and it felt like sandpaper (the fine grain one that almost felt like a cat's tongue, not the really rough one that hurt a lot) was sliding down his throat every time he gasped in a breath. Lavi could only hope that he'd be able to last until Kanda's rage, thus his motivation, wore out. Because there was nothing that could stop Kanda when he was fueled by wrath.
Lavi looked back again. Kanda didn't look any happier but his steps were less steady and his feet didn't come up as far from the ground. And he was getting farther away.
With one final effort to end the chase, Lavi dug for every bit of energy he had and swerved to the right at the corner of the sidewalk. He was on his street now. Everything was going to be just fine.
As soon as he reached the front door, he yanked it open before slamming it closed, back pressed against the wooden frame, and locking it. Breath rushed in and escaped in haggard gasps, his lungs trying to make up for the lack of air. His legs felt wobbly, too. At least he was alive.
Lavi decided that it would be in his best interest not to leave the house for the rest of the day and avoid Kanda for a while.
Nodding to himself at the plan, Lavi began to make his way to the refrigerator and took out a water bottle, the water tasting like the finest ambrosia. Staying inside for a bit had never hurt anyone before. Especially if that anyone had a homicidal samurai wannabe out for their blood.
.:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:
"Here you go, sweetie!" Jeryy grinned.
"Thank you, Jerry," Allen accepted the plate of dango. "How much is it again?"
Jeryy laughed. "This time? Nothing. You hide it all under that hoodie you wear, but you're too skinny."
"Jeryy, I can't — "
"Sure you can," Jeryy all but sang. "Think of it as thanks for being such a loyal customer since you've come here."
"Thank you," Allen said, "but I can't just take it."
Jeryy giggled. "Cutie, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to. I have enough work for myself running everything here."
Allen nodded. "That's why I have to pay you."
"Oh hush!" Jeryy put both of his hands on his hips and entered what Allen had dubbed his sass mode. "It's no different than when your grandma cooks for you. I don't need your money for a little dango. I'm just busy."
Allen sighed. He knew that this wasn't a fight that he'd be able to win. "Alright. Have you found any employees?"
Jeryy slouched, his entire demeanor changing at the tip of a hat. "I wish that was the case but no one has even asked about helping."
"That's terrible," Allen consoled. "I hope that you can find someone soon."
Jeryy's head snapped up.
"What?" Allen asked, a bit bemused by the sudden action.
"You can cook, right Allen?"
Jeryy hadn't called him by Allen since the first week after they met. "I can, yes. Why?"
"Let me hire you!"
"Excuse me?" Allen's eyes widened. He could feel himself tense up. "You want to hire me?"
"Of course!" Jeryy was grinning again now. "You're so cute and polite and you can cook and we already know each other so that lil' awkward 'get to know you' phase is outta the way. You're perfect!"
"I'm only fifteen," Allen protested meekly. "I don't think that I can get a job yet."
"Oh please," Jeryy dismissed with a rather flamboyant wave of his hand, "it's not like I own a chain. It'll just be a teeny tiny part-time job. You can help me with the dinner rushes after school everyday. You'll get paid."
"Jeryy, I really don't think — "
"C'mon, sweetie! Didn't you just say that you couldn't take that dango without repaying me?"
"But you said — "
"Oh cutie, I'm just an eccentric man with pink hair that doesn't know what he's doing half of the time. My past arguments don't have anything solid in them."
Allen just stared openly, his jaw hanging freely.
"It won't be that bad!" Jeryy continued. "You come here almost everyday anyways, spending a little more time here isn't gonna hurt you."
Allen swallowed. He needed a job, but… "Do I have to, uh… well, people…"
Jeryy's face softened. "You don't have to do anything that you don't wanna. You can stay in the kitchen for your entire shift if you want. You're too shy, sweetie."
Allen felt himself smiling. That covered the problem of getting a job with minimal interactions with strangers. And like Jeryy had said, they already knew each other so it eliminated the problem of having Allen submit a resume and being interviewed. Maybe it wasn't what he had pictured, but Allen was quickly finding more reasons as to why this would be near perfect. It was like killing twenty birds with one stone rather than just two.
"Well, when you put it like that, I can't say no."
"Yes!" Jeryy cheered. "We'll talk about your salary and shifts after you eat. Oh, this is going to be amazing!"
Allen grinned. "I'm sure it will be, Jeryy."
A/N: Yup, I had been going somewhere with the cooking thing. Allen has a job!
I realize that Lavi and Allen didn't exactly interact a lot in this chapter. But I feel that, realistically, two people who haven't known each other long are just going to cast everything aside to just be with the other. Lavi has other friends and he's not going to lose those ties.
I don't like Kanda all that much. Can you tell?
I'm debating whether or not to write out a chapter of Sunday for the next update (which will be pretty similar to the later part of this chapter). I'll probably just summarize it and skip straight to Monday.
And if anyone caught the Sherlock reference, let me know so that I can hug you (virtually, of course). Speaking of Sherlock (BBC version), guess who did a full out cosplay of him two days ago? I even had the purple shirt.
Thank you to all of those of you that have read ten chapters of my writing. This is something that I do because I love and it makes my day that people can enjoy something that I care about so much.
Please review, favorite, and/or follow. You're support is always cherished.