D. Gray-man © Katsura Hoshino
Everyone knows I'm not one to go to the library. Reading is so boring: Why sit still for so long to read about other people's problems when there are more fun things to do like flying or training or something? However, today was different. I was released from the infirmary yesterday, but I still wanted to be alone. After Ashton's death, I just didn't feel like talking anymore. On my way there, I thought that the library would be the only place I could truly be alone. People were looking for me in my room or the training room; the cafeteria was always full. No one would possibly think of looking for me in the library, right?
I peered around the corner to see if I could spot anyone. Nope, no one. I smiled a smile of relief. Stepping into the extremely quiet room, I barely glanced at the books lining the shelves all around me. I didn't quite care to find out what any of them were about. My fingers twitched on my hips in irritation. Maybe coming to the library was a bad thing. Words just reminded me that, for reasons unexplained, I couldn't write. It's so retarded, I swear!
It isn't right for someone to be able to read and not write. But every time I picked up a pencil and tried to copy the things I saw on the page before me, I couldn't bring my hands to move correctly. It was exhausting and annoying to not be able to do something so simple – pissed me off every time. Dad always supported me, told me to just keep trying, but no matter how hard I tried, these hands just wouldn't produce words.
Agh…Remembering my dad made me even more depressed. Pulling out a chair, I slumped in the seat and slammed my head on the desk. Whimpering, trying not to cry, I gripped at my hair. I hated being an Exorcist – hate, hate, hated it! I tried to tell myself not to think that way – that maybe I didn't hate being an Exorcist, but hated being alive – but I couldn't shake the feeling that every life-changing mishap in my world all came back to the Black Order.
Tears threatened my eyes until a voice came close by. "Um…Hello?"
Startled, I sat upright and looked to the door. In the doorway was that redhead boy from the other day, wearing a black headband, dark green long sleeve shirt, white pants, and brown boots. His one green eye studied me, what I was doing. I knew my eyes must have been shimmering with tears. A frown dare pull his lips before he reluctantly made his way over to me. The boy had long legs, I noticed. As he spoke, I wiped my eyes:
"Ah, I remember you. You're that girl from before." He stopped in front of me and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "My name is Lavi." Lavi gave me a guilty grin. "Sorry I didn't tell you before."
I couldn't even manage a smile. Pitiful. "Karena," I replied weakly. Lavi scratched the back of his head in thought, then sighed and strolled around the bookshelves. I couldn't help but follow him with my eyes. His one eye studied every book in sight.
"You, uh, come here to read?" he asked. The poor boy's voice sounded like he felt awkward.
I shook my head. "No. I don't read; just came here to – get away from everyone, I guess." No point in lying to the new guy.
Lavi let out a small laugh. "What a coincidence: So did I. That Johnny Gill guy just got done measuring me for my new uniform. Kind of…weird." He grinned like a child.
Still, childish or not, I was intrigued by him. "Are you an Exorcist or…?"
He picked up a thick book and flipped through the pages, eye flickering from page to page. "Yeah," he answered. "I just got here with Gramps – Bookman, that is. We're both" – he paused as if trying to remember something – "Exorcists here now."
My eyebrows raised in interest. How nice for him. Being an Exorcist with his grandfather must be awesome. It's always nice to be with your family, isn't it? Finally, I smiled. "Your grandfather's name is Bookman?" I asked. Heh, silly.
Lavi nodded. "Ah, yeah. Name, title, same thing." Completely confused now, I asked him to explain. He put the book back in its place before replying. "Gramps and I are Bookmen. We record history, basically. As a plus" – he picked up another book – "I get to learn a bunch of cool stuff. Just the paperwork is exhausting."
Paperwork. Crap! Again with the writing! I rolled my eyes, leaning on my hand. "Writing sucks period…" I muttered without thinking. Only Komui, Ashton, and Master knew that I couldn't write. As for everyone else, we never got to that subject in our friendship. And though I prayed he didn't, Lavi heard and turned to me, confused.
"Well, be glad you're just an Exorcist and don't exactly need to know how to read and write."
With a sigh, I shook my shook my head. "No, I know how to read. It's just writing that gives me a hard time." He took a seat beside me with his book. "It's like…I know what I want to write and how to write it, but my hand won't let me do it right!"
Lavi studied me a moment, a frown on his lips. He seemed deep in thought. "Karena," he finally said, "do you have dysphasia?"
I blinked twice at the question. "What's that?" I asked. Carefully, he explained it as a "language impairment." It's caused by strokes or head trauma; makes it difficult or impossible to talk, write, or even read. That got me thinking. The way he explained it sounded like I had this dysphasia thing. But I've never had a stroke before, so…
"Did you have a stroke when you were younger?" he asked curiously.
I shook my head. "No. If I did, I don't remember." I didn't sound too sure. Did I ever have a head injury? Dang, I can't remember that either. Lavi continued to stare at me intensely. He was certainly curious about me. Hey, I wanted to know what was up with me just as much as he did.
