Pairings: Lavi/Allen + Neah/Lavi [slow burn]
Rating + warnings: T / no content warnings
Author's note: I ended up taking an 8 month long hiatus from this, but it's been a crazy few months with my mental health. I'm feeling better now so I finally had the chance to get part 2 of this fic ready for posting! Sorry for the long wait, and I hope you enjoy reading!


The sun awoke slowly, rising behind snow-capped mountains and rocky hillsides, sky flecked with colour as the pale dawn gave way to a day of golden intention.

The snow lit up as daylight shone down upon it, all the colours of the dawn illuminated within it in hues of pink and red. Boots crunched down through the snow, leaving behind a trail of footprints up the mountainside path, the wind hardly stirring the heavy cloak of the traveller making their way up towards the summit of a small mountain, hidden between its larger counterparts. By the time the sun had fully risen, the sky was a perfect shade of blue, cloudless and endless, stretching from one side of the world to the other. The traveller was up so high they could see the curvature of the Earth, wisps of fog obscuring the forests and tiny villages nestled between the mountains, a tiny wisp of smoke dancing up from the summit to the endless blue sky.

It was beautiful, and as the one named 'Bookman Junior' made his way up the mountain to his final destination, he felt moved by the beauty of the world around him, seemingly untouched by the stains of mankind. It was here that the Bookman Clan had made themselves at home, above the toils of the world in a place of eternal peace and solitude.

The midday sun bore down on Junior's back as he finally reached the summit, and he took a moment to stop and catch his breath and appreciate the sight of the monastery before him. A wooden arch, painted red and decorated with many torn pieces of cloth, stretched from one side of a rocky outcrop to the other, and behind it sat a small and ancient building that had existed long before the Bookman Clan had decided to reside beneath it. Made of stone, it had the same colour and texture of the mountainside around it, and it looked unmarred by time.

Junior felt a strong sense of familiarity, gazing upon this ancient building. It had been fourteen years since he had seen this place, and a feeling of both foreboding and anticipation curled itself into his heart.

Junior pushed back his hood, took in a deep breath, and walked under the arch, coming to a halt at the bottom of the monastery stairs. It was here that he waited, leaning against a stone pillar, arms folded and eye closed, trying to savour the quiet peace that surrounded him.

Sometime later, the large wooden doors of the monastery opened and a man, clothed in red robes with his head shaved, stepped forward and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Junior moved to stand and face him, placed his palms together in greeting and said namaskāra. The man did the same before smiling and moving aside, extending a hand toward the monastery entrance. Junior walked forward into the shade of the monastery, taking off his boots as he stepped inside. The man followed him and shut the wooden doors behind him.

They were stood in a large room, held up by pillars of stone. Wordlessly, Junior's guide stepped forwards, beckoning for Junior to follow. They walked in silence, coming to a halt at the entrance to a dimly lit corridor. The man extended a hand towards the corridor. Junior placed his palms together and bowed slightly in thanks before heading down the corridor alone.

The corridor was very dark, extending into the depths of the mountain by many metres. At the end of it was a pulley lift with metal gates and a single lever. Junior stepped into it, closed the gates behind him, and took off his socks, putting on soft cloth shoes from his bag. He took a deep breath in and pulled the lever downwards.

And so he descended into the heart of the mountain, to the home of the people who called themselves Bookmen.

As the lift descended, Junior became surrounded by darkness and endless stone. Suddenly, piercing amber light illuminated his vision. As Junior raised a hand to ward it off, he gasped at the sight before him and remembered, vividly, the first time he had seen the treasured library of the Bookman Clan.

The cavern he had entered was huge, so huge he could not see from one end of it to the other. Covering each and every wall were bookshelves upon bookshelves, filled with books and papers until they were overflowing with it. As Junior descended into the centre of the cavern, he felt as if he were a child again, rendered speechless with wonder by this seemingly infinite collection of knowledge.

After several minutes he reached the bottom. As he opened the gate and stepped out, he was met by an ancient and greying man, bearded and clothed in grey. Junior bowed first, as was customary, and when the old man returned it he hardly moved; Junior was lower in ranking, despite his status as a Bookman's apprentice. When the old man spoke his voice was gravelly and hoarse - from years of smoking, no doubt, since it was a popular pastime of the Bookmen - and he spoke in the language only the Clan knew and used. It sounded formal to anyone who knew the language, and sounded more formal still when translated.

"Long have you not stepped forward here, young one. Greetings and good tidings to you."

Junior bowed his head respectfully. "Greetings and good tidings. I have come for guidance, and I bring news."

"We were made aware, but you may speak of that later. I am an Archiver, and many years have I watched over the records that we keep. Now come, you may eat with me and inform me of your travels."

They walked among the endless bookshelves, passing by endless numbers of people who sat reading or speaking quietly with one another in hushed tones. A strong sense of connectedness and familiarity gripped at Junior's heart, so tightly that he felt moved by it. Junior and the Archiver stepped into a lift, similar to the one Junior had ridden earlier, and descended until they reached yet another corridor with yet another lift. In silence, they travelled deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain. Eventually they reached a quiet and brightly lit room, where people sat and ate at small tables in quiet voices.

Several people turned to Junior in greeting, bowing their heads respectfully before turning to the person beside them and resuming their conversations. Platters of food were placed in a circle around the middle of a central table. Junior waited as his elder filled his plate with food, and only after he was finished did he then serve himself - dal bhat and tarkari, with a side of roti and achaar.

Junior followed the older man to an empty table, and they sat on the pillows provided with their knees under them and ate with their right hands. It was only after they finished and served themselves tea that the older man began to speak.

"Come, speak of your travels. It has been a long time since I last stepped outside to see the world."

And so Junior did. He paused often to drink his tea and recollect the things he had seen and done in the fourteen years since he had last stepped foot there. He could feel Lavi itching to join in, since Lavi shared most of his memories of their travels as a Bookman's apprentice, but it had been a long time since Junior had been able to be present, to control the body he shared with the others, and he wanted to enjoy it.

Trying to ignore Lavi's presence, Junior continued speaking. He did not talk about his records, as it was considered bad superstition to speak of the dead, but instead he spoke of the comings and goings of human beings and the world that changed around them. Technology, science, culture, literature, the arts; these were the things he spoke of at great length. After he felt he had spoken enough, he stopped and finished his tea. Archiver paused before speaking, voice full of contentment.

"Ah, the world still moves so quickly despite its age. There is much that has changed since I last left this place, so I express my gratitude at your tales." He paused before continuing. "I do not wish to rush our meeting, but the Council is impatient for your news, and the reason for your coming here. I am afraid we must bid farewell for this moment and speak more at a later date."

Junior nodded. "I understand, I will go and see them now. Thank you for your company and patience."

Junior stood, bowed, and walked away, heart pattering anxiously as he entered the nearest lift and descended to the lowest point of the Bookman Clan's home. The Council resided in the deepest part of the mountain - huge fires had to be maintained to keep the place warm and habitable - and it was here that the Clan's records, and of the wars written in ink within them, could be discussed.

Junior walked down a long and brightly lit corridor, illuminated by flickering torches holstered to the wall, and felt nervous and uncertain about what lay ahead. But he knew that this moment had been postponed much longer than it should have been. Even if he was afraid of what the future might hold, he was also relieved. Finally, the indecision and doubt would come to an end.

He could feel Lavi's presence alongside his own - he had to be present, since what they were about to share with the elders of the Bookman Clan was Lavi's experience and his alone. Junior came to the end of the corridor and was met by two large and bolted doors that spanned the entire width of the corridor. In the imposing shadow of the doors, he sat cross-legged on the floor and waited, eye closed, trying to calm his mind of all fear and bad feeling.

Sometime later a loud screech of hinges, accompanied by the low creak of doors opening, bid Junior to stand and turn. He met the gaze of a woman known only as the Door Keeper. He bowed and she returned it with a slight downward tilt of her head. She stepped aside and let Junior through to the antechamber beyond. He changed into the customary green robes of an apprentice, and the contrast between the green of his robes and the bright orange scarf around his neck made him smile. Bookman had always insisted he couldn't wear his scarf to such meetings, but it was an anchor for Junior and the others as well.

It was the one thing they had brought with them from their previous life, and it had kept them grounded through all that had happened. It was worth any glares or scathing looks.

While Junior waited, the Door Keeper bound his hands - and therefore his Innocence - with bandages and seals, similar to the ones used by the Order's Crows. There he would have to wait until he was permitted to enter the cold dimly lit room where the ancient elders of the Bookman Clan resided.

The antechamber was silent, and memories that both pained Junior and brought him happiness came forth unbidden - memories of a time where he had sat, fidgeting endlessly, humming under his breath. Bookman had scolded him and told him to wait patiently to be seen. But Gran'pa, why can't we just go in anyway, he had said, voice petulant and full of complaint. That had earnt him a smack to the back of the head. He had pouted but continued tapping his fingers against his leg, humming quietly as he waited, despite Bookman's irritation.

Junior smiled at the memory of it, despite the sadness that gripped painfully at his heart. When a quiet knock signified he could enter the room beyond, he stood and with calm acceptance entered the main chamber of the Council.

The room was circular in shape, lit by several torches mounted on the walls. Sat in the centre of the room were six people, knelt on pillows, all of whom were wise and aged beyond measure. Junior bowed as deeply as he was able to each of them in turn then knelt down on the lone pillow positioned before him. He averted his gaze from any of the people before him out of respect and custom, for they were the highest members of the Clan and it was rude for someone of such ranking as him to look them in the eye. He remembered vividly that when he was a child he was thankful that this was the case, for back then he had struggled to look people in the eye and found himself spending an awful lot of time staring at people's feet. He forced himself not to smile despite the memory, and waited patiently for one of the elders to speak. The third person from the right spoke; a woman with a voice cracked and aged.

"Greetings and good tidings, young one. Many years it has been since you last stepped foot before us, and it fills us with gladness to see you once more. Come - speak of your purpose for coming here."

Junior hesitated for a moment before replying, voice calm and steady. "Greetings and good tidings, elders. I am here to bring news, and to seek guidance from the Clan on a matter that I have been unable to resolve on my own. I ask for your patience and knowledge."

He bowed his head, and waited a moment before continuing to speak, voice low and as devoid of emotion as he felt able to manage.

"I bring the news that my master is dead. Here are the earrings he wore as proof of his death and of my ties to him."

Wordlessly, he took the earrings out from his robes and placed them before him. The people before him said may his soul pass on quietly and in unison before the second person from the left nodded and permitted Junior to continue. He took a deep breath, letting his presence subside so Lavi could come forth and speak.

Lavi couldn't speak for a moment, disoriented by his surroundings. When he became aware of the elders staring at him, he spoke up, voice wavering a little as he spoke the Bookman Clan's mother tongue.

"I was… there to bear witness to my master's death. He was killed by those known as the Noah Family, and -"

"Forgive my interruption." A man in the centre spoke, voice low but alarmed. "That is grave news indeed. We were aware something was wrong. We had no received any updates from your master for many long months. Your master was old, even by our reckoning, and if he had died a peaceful death as he was meant to then we would not feel unease at his passing. But for the Noah Family to have killed him… that is a surprise to us."

A woman to his left spoke. "Indeed. We have long since held neutrality with that family, ever since we as a Clan came into being. For them to commit this act, why, it breaks the bond that we have with them. They would never willingly break that bond, for we hold information they greatly rely on. Tell us, how did this happen?"

Lavi resisted the urge to wring his hands together, trying to hide how nervous he felt as he replied.

"Our last record was with the Black Order, and we fought as soldiers for their cause in aid of our own. Eight months ago, we were captured by the 6th Disciple and brought to the Noah's base of operations by the 4th Disciple. He demanded information from my master on the 14th Disciple and his relation to the 2nd Disciple, and after my master refused to speak of it, I was used as leverage through torture and threat of death."

A woman furthest to the left spoke, confusion in her voice. "We have never denied the Noah Family our information, so for your master to refuse to speak of the Fourteenth…"

A tense silence descended upon them. Lavi felt his heart beat so fast he felt sick from it. Eventually, the same woman waved a hand for him to continue. Lavi tried to keep any anxiety out of his voice.

"When I came close to death, my master informed the 4th Disciple of the truth behind the 2nd Disciple's actions. Upon hearing it, he lost his temper and killed my master. I barely escaped with my life."

The man from the centre spoke once more. "They spared your life?"

Lavi paused before speaking, voice wavering slightly. "No, they did not intend to do that. Before our capture, I hid my Innocence inside of me. When they attempted to kill me after taking the life of my master, my Innocence evolved and I escaped."

"We have read the records that your master provided us on that which is called Crystal Type Innocence. It would explain why your hands are sealed, young one. Although this worries us greatly, we do not blame you for saving your life in this way. Be at ease."

Lavi hadn't realised he had been shaking. With slight anger at himself for being so transparent, he took a deep breath in and tried to remain calm as the elders before him spoke in turn.

"We do not understand why your master would behave in such a way, and it disturbs us greatly to hear of the manner of his death."

"We will have to cut our ties with the Noah Family, as they have broken the pact of neutrality that we made with them."

"But we will need time to speak of it and ponder on what has happened. We will not ask you to speak of this more than you have already, young one. Thank you for informing us of this news."

"Now, you spoke of needing guidance. We will do our best to aid you, as you and your master have aided us. Speak, young one."

Lavi closed his eye and waited a long time before speaking quietly, hands clenched into fists.

"Since my master's death, I have been uncertain of the future that lies ahead of me, for he had not prepared me for what his death would mean, or what would be required of me. I have found myself conflicted at the thought of it. I wished to ask for guidance on what options are open to me, and what you would advise me to do in this position." He faltered for a moment before a hissed remark from Junior in their mind reminded him of courtesy. "I… ask for your understanding and wisdom."

There was a long moment of silence before a woman spoke, voice gentle and full of compassion.

"We are glad you have come to seek our counsel, young one. We will need to discuss your situation with each other, and come to a decision on what paths we see open to you. Please place your personal record before us. Have patience and faith."

Lavi stood, took out a worn and tattered leather-bound book from his robes, and placed it next to Bookman's earrings.

They then spoke in unison. "We give thanks for your words this day."

Lavi hesitated for a moment before bowing to each of them in turn, before speaking. "I give thanks for your guidance this day."

He turned and left. The Door Keeper closed the doors behind him, unbound his hands, and carefully observed as he picked up his travelling clothes and belongings before leaving through the large double doors of the antechamber. She shut the doors behind him. Lavi waited a moment before sighing loudly. He visibly relaxed, muscles aching from tension and stiffness.

Lavi began to walk, making his way back to the lift. Lavi could feel Junior's irritation towards his hesitation and awkwardness, but Lavi knew he had tried his best. It had been a while since he'd needed to speak in the Bookman Clan's tongue - in his defence - and he had never really needed to put it into practice until now. It was also still difficult to speak of Bookman's death, and after muttering that internally Junior fell silent, knowing he had crossed a line.

Shaking his head a little, Lavi focused on making his way back up from the mountain's depths. He felt heavy and exhausted. By the time he made it to the sleeping quarters, he could hardly walk without stumbling. After asking for directions, he was directed to a small and plainly furnished room no more than a few metres wide, where a small sleeping mat and blanket were neatly folded in one corner. After undressing and settling down, he was asleep in minutes.


Darkness, emerald leaves, a garden shielded by silence, draped in eternal light, a face, a feeling of horror - he could never remember, why could he never remember that face - then the loud, sudden gasp of his own breath as Lavi sat up, wide-eyed and breathless.

It took a while for Lavi to ground himself, heart jack-hammering in his chest, staring wide-eyed at the dark ceiling above. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, let himself relax, and rubbed at his face with a groan. It was the same dream that had haunted him since travelling with Allen and Neah, waking him at regular intervals every night without fail. It was a reality he was bitterly used to at this point.

Lavi sat up and rubbed at his eye, feeling no better rested than before he had slept. Devoid of motivation to get up, still shaking off the remnants of fear and uncertainty that his dreams always left him with, he settled for staring at the ceiling. He almost forgot where he was for a moment, surrounded by dimly lit rock and no possessions aside from what he travelled with. He felt uneasy, like the very walls were closing in on him, trapped within rock and stone.

With a groan, he buried his fingers in his hair and tried to focus on anything else, anything but that dream. It was only then that he noticed a quiet presence beside him internally. He looked inward and felt more than saw a tentative hand clutch at his clothes. A small, anxious face peered up at him from the darkness. A dim memory came to mind of darkness and water, a child stood before him, tears falling to the water below and a plain playing card at his feet. Lavi shook his head, trying to dispel the memory from his mind. He let out a sigh, trying his best to smile.

"You scared?" The child nodded. Lavi gently patted his head. "It's okay, nothin' to be scared of, is there?"

I don't like this place.

The child's voice was quiet, tentative. Lavi sighed. "Well, it ain't so bad here. We're gonna be stuck here for a while, so -"

Where's Gran'pa?

Lavi felt his heart skip a beat. He took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out shakily.

"He's - he's not here. Junior explained that to you, didn't he?"

But where's he gone? He'll be back soon, won't he?

That statement was said with such innocence that Lavi couldn't bear to admit the truth. He gave a poor attempt at a smile.

"He's… gone away to… to do Bookman stuff. We'll see him at some point."

That answer seemed good enough. Everything was still and quiet for a while before that quiet voice spoke once more.

Where's the boy from before?

Lavi frowned. "Who're you talkin' about?"

The boy with the white hair.

Lavi remembered the library ruins, Allen's concerned expression, the smell of smoke, and a child's shaking hand in his own. He sighed.

"Allen's not here either. We gotta do stuff on our own for a little while, 'kay?"

Lavi pushed himself up, shrugged off his blankets and stretched a little. When he realised he still wasn't alone, he let out a quiet noise of frustration.

"Listen, I gotta get up, Milo. You go and play or somethin', okay?"

He ruffled the child's hair and gave him an encouraging push into the darkness of their mind. That seemed enough to get him to leave, allowing Lavi some breathing room. He buried his fingers in his hair and sighed.

Even after all these months, it still hadn't sunk in for Milo that Bookman was gone. He was a child, and children couldn't always process things like this. Lavi knew that, but it didn't make it any easier. He felt a lump settle in his throat. He wanted, more than anything, to have Bookman here with him. He almost expected to hear a knock on his door, smell tobacco smoke, hear his old master's grumpy voice insisting he get up and make himself look presentable. That thought brought a small smile to Lavi's features, but it also hurt.

Lavi tried to push the memory of his late master away, trying to focus on something less painful. His mind drew towards Allen and Neah instead - which was no less painful for him, but that was often how the mind worked, drawing connections between similar feelings - and he found himself missing them more than he could put into words. He remembered, vividly, his last moments with Allen. The tears in his eyes, his bright smile; he had looked hopeful, more hopeful than Lavi had seen him look for a long, long time.

He wondered, with a heavy heart, if Allen and Neah were doing okay. Had they found Cross yet? Had the Noah found them first, or the creature called Apocryphos? The thought of the two of them fighting alone against so many adversaries made Lavi's heart hurt.

It would do no good to think of them, Lavi knew. He had to focus on the here and now, on his own life, his own goals. That was why he had left their side, after all.

Taking in a deep breath, holding it, and letting it out slowly, Lavi pushed himself up onto his feet and dressed himself in the robes he'd been given the day before. He couldn't help but smile at the green colour of the fabric. After spending years dressed in the blacks and greys of the Order's uniform with only his bright scarf to alleviate the lack of colour, it was nice to wear something colourful for once.

Not wishing to dwell on the Order more than was necessary, refusing to allow that all too familiar feeling of loss to creep up on him once more, Lavi wrapped his scarf around his neck, left his bag and travelling clothes with his sleeping mat, and left to explore the cavernous halls of the Bookman Clan.

As he walked, it finally sunk in that he was finally here, after months of indecision and aimless wandering. The people he had spent his whole life hearing about, but never interacted with aside from Bookman, were all around him. Lavi felt a rising sense of connectedness build within him.

With a great deal of curiosity, Lavi wondered if Junior was going to let him roam free through the Clan's halls. When his questions were met with silence, he shrugged internally and focused on his growling stomach. Exploration could come after food.

Time seemed to hold little meaning within the home of the Bookman Clan, since the mountain caverns were devoid of windows or clocks or any indication of the state of the outside world, but it made sense for his first meal to be breakfast, since he had just woken up. After reaching the meal room, he chose soup and roti, with chai tea to drink.

Although the Bookman Clan had members from all around the world, a network of cultures and religions and customs, they had long since called Nepal home. Out of respect to the country they resided within, many of their customs and cuisine were Nepalese in origin.

After eating and contemplating on what to do when he was done, strangely excited to be given free rein in this new environment, Lavi decided to travel upwards to the endless cavern of books at the highest point of the Bookman Clan's underground network. With no small amount of excitement, Lavi ascended into the large cavern, wide-eyed and full of wonder. He spent what felt like an eternity walking past endless shelves, undecided on what to read with so much choice available to him.

For most of that day, he spent his time reading and talking with the people he came across. Every person he spoke with gave a customary bow and the phrase I ask for your worldly knowledge. The colour of his robes indicated his apprenticeship, and many of whom he spoke with spent little time above ground. One of the main privileges of being a Bookman was the nomadic lifestyle they led, the ability to see the wider world. Lavi spoke often of his travels, of all the cultures and experiences and people that he had seen, with those who had committed themselves to preserving the world of the past. Junior was ever present, making sure to keep an eye on how Lavi spoke and how careful he was around those of a higher rank than him.

It was strange to see how people reacted to his status as a Bookman's apprentice. It had always confused Lavi that he held a role that was the namesake of an entire clan, and yet Bookman had only ever talked about Lavi and himself as being 'Bookmen'. Bookman had always spoken of their roles with reverence and respect, constantly referring to it as a 'necessary sacrifice', and Lavi had never understood why until he spoke with other members of the Clan.

There were those who expressed what could almost be called hero worship, excitedly asking question after question about Lavi's role and how lucky he was to see the surface, how they had always dreamed of succeeding in their chosen field and gaining the chance to become a Bookman proper. It took a few comments from Lavi, increasingly more scolding in quality, about the death and destruction he was forced to record, before the admiration he was being given swiftly faded into what was likely pity.

He didn't know what was worse.

To be told repeatedly, with either reverence or pity, of his 'sacrifice' and its necessity for the Clan and how he was brave to have chosen such a role, made Lavi feel a level of discomfort that he had never felt before. He couldn't understand it, how someone could place his 'necessary sacrifice' on such a pedestal, or call him brave for having suffered through it. He didn't know if it was due to a lack of understanding on what it truly meant to leave the Clan's halls, or if people were wilfully blind to the truth. The bitter reality that it was a path he hadn't even chosen for himself only made matters worse. After an entire day of it, he wanted nothing more than to walk into the nearby elevator and leave the Clan behind.

But Lavi knew he couldn't leave. He still had to receive advice - though it felt a lot more like judgement - from the Elders. He needed answers, no matter how arduous his stay with the Clan could end up being.

After a somewhat snide internal comment from Junior about whether the Clan was what Lavi had expected, he almost let loose a string of rather colourful - and altogether not Bookman Clan approved - curse words in more languages than one, before he remembered where he was; still stood in a room full of people, some of whom had taken notice of his discontent.

After taking a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, Lavi decided to call it a day and started to make his way back to the accommodation hall. A quiet voice from his left made him stop, however. He turned to see a person with a gentle presence, clothed in a brightly-coloured hijab and the grey robes of the Archivers, looking at him with an amused expression. Lavi frowned.

"Can I… assist you?"

The person faltered a little, visibly awkward before they gave him an apologetic smile, bowing their head as everyone else had done for Lavi that day.

"My apologies, I saw the colour of your robes and I wished to… I-I ask for your worldly -"

"No."

The person raised their head with a frown. "Wait… what did you say?"

Lavi scowled, unable to hide his irritation, lapsing into English.

"You and everyone else here has been sayin' that every five seconds, give it a rest already."

The person before him hesitated, genuine confusion showing in their expression, before they did something Lavi hadn't expected: they laughed. For a few moments, Lavi could do nothing but stand and stare. Without fully understanding why, a weight left his shoulders at that moment.

Eventually, when they had regained their composure, the archiver stood before him wiped away their tears and tried to compose themself before speaking, also dropping the use of the Bookman Clan language.

"Sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but… that was amazing."

Lavi faltered. "Wh… what was amazing? I don't get it."

The archiver gave a bright smile. "Rejecting my request for one, never mind choosing to say it so… impolitely."

Lavi rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning. "H-hey, in my defence there really isn't a way of speakin' casually in the Clan's language, ya know."

The person groaned. "Don't I know it! It's..." they paused, seemingly embarrassed to admit such a thing. "… actually very refreshing to speak like this, to be honest with you."

They faltered before offering a hand, brightly smiling. "My name is Bisma, it's nice to meet you, um…"

"Lavi, the name's Lavi."

Bisma smiled all the brighter. "Lavi, huh? That's Hebrew for 'lion', is it not?" They paused, an amused glint in their eyes. "Guessing it's because of the colour, no? It's rather fitting."

Lavi raised a hand to fiddle with his scarf. "I'm guessin' you mean this thing."

Bisma laughed. "Either that, or your hair. You've got a whole ensemble going there, my friend."

Lavi couldn't help but smile at that. The tension that had settled upon his shoulders dissipated as if it had never been there to begin with. After a moment of silence, Lavi's newfound companion seemed to realise their place, and gave an apologetic nod before attempting to walk away, no doubt to resume their work. Lavi, feeling a strong sense of kinship with them, hurried forward to place a hand on their shoulder.

"Hey, are you always up here?"

Bisma turned before nodding, confusion entering their expression. "I… yes, I work here at the archives for a few hours each day before being left to my other studies. Why?"

Lavi gave an awkward smile. "It'd be nice to, uh, talk some more. Not about any 'worldly knowledge' or anythin' like that. You're the… first person to seem any amount of normal in this place."

Bisma paused for a moment then laughed, unable to hide the amusement in their voice.

"The fact you see this as normal is… strange, but refreshing." They paused before offering a friendly smile. "Sure, why not? It'd be nice to not have to speak in the Clan's tongue for a little while, and it's been far too long since we had anyone new turn up around here."

Lavi gave a pleased smile, and after waving goodbye the two of them went their separate ways, leaving Lavi free to head back to his room for some much needed peace and quiet. While walking, he could feel Junior's discontent towards him - no doubt about his breach of 'decorum', he supposed - but nothing could tarnish the fact that despite all the trepidation he felt towards being with the Clan - and what it meant for his future - he could at least say that at the end of his first day there, he'd made a friend.

A friend he was allowed to have.