Hi there, everyone!
Well, here's chapter 11. I had way too much fun writing this chapter, although I'm pretty sure it makes absolutely no sense. Yay! It details one of Lavi and Allen's many adventures together and shows their happy fun bonding time.
Last chapter, a lovely reviewer asked whatever happened to the whole "Lavi and Allen fake dating" thing. In case anyone else is confused by this, I'll give a little explanation. Lavi saw how upset Allen was over the whole thing and realized he was being a complete moron. So he (along with overzealous help from Chomesuke) let it be known that the picture that seemed to indicate the two of them were on a date (or what have you) was simply the result of a misunderstanding. And everyone listens to Lavi, because Lavi is...well...Lavi! He is king of the University and all must bow before him! Or something.
Anyway. Thank you, once again, to everyone who has favorited/alerted/reviewed this story, but especially those of you who take the time to review. Your kind words and thoughtful questions really do encourage me to keep on truckin'!
Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-man
"Wow," Lavi said, craning his neck to look up at the surprisingly imposing structure before him. "This place is, uh…"
"Obviously haunted?" Allen supplied, casting a suspicious glance at the house's darkened attic window.
"What? Haunted?" Lavi said, chuckling nervously. "I never said anything about it being haunted."
"Yeah, well, I did," Allen said drily.
"You guys ain't scared of this old house, are ya?" Daisya asked from his spot at the end of the driveway.
Lavi turned to look at him and gave a weak smile. ""Course we're not. Right, Allen?"
"Right," Allen agreed. He glanced at the windows again and shuddered.
"If you're too scared you can always just go home and hide under your beds like pussies," Daisya cackled.
Lavi bristled. "I don't think so. Allen and I are incredibly badass, you know. We ain't afraid of no ghosts."
Allen started humming the Ghostbusters theme and Lavi shot him a grin.
"All right," Daisya said, unconvinced. In the waning sunlight, the makeup under his eyes made him look ethereal and a tad frightening. His seemingly-permanent wicked grin wasn't helping matters, either. He would have given Allen the downright creeps if it weren't for the ridiculous jester hat he was wearing. There was a large, intricate bell tied to the end of it that jingled merrily whenever he moved. It served as a reminder to Allen that this was Daisya Barry they were talking to here. It gave him a bit more courage, and he steeled himself for what Lavi was inevitably going to say next.
"Well," the redhead said, looking inquiringly at Allen. "Shall we?"
"Sure," Allen said, making his way toward the front door. The house was on the cul-de-sac at the very end of the street—a place not many ventured in this part of town. Because of this, they could let themselves in the front door without anyone seeing them.
"How do you think you're going to get in?" Daisya wondered. He'd followed them to the door and was peeking curiously over Allen's shoulder.
"Uh," Lavi said, scratching the back of his head. "I dunno."
Allen sighed. Daisya just cackled again.
"Here, move over," Allen said, pushing Lavi out of the way. He pulled a bent paper clip out of his pocket and shoved it into the lock. He jimmied it a bit, his brow furrowed in concentration; after a moment the handle turned and the door swung creakily open. Allen grinned up at the two older boys, triumphant.
"How the hell do you know how to do that?" Daisya demanded.
"When you have a legal guardian like I did growing up, you have occasion to learn many of these useful little skills," Allen said nonchalantly.
"Huh?" Daisya said, turning to Lavi with a frown.
"Dude, I believe it," Lavi said. "I've met Al's godfather. The guy is majorly sketchy."
"Whatever," Daisya said, shaking his head. "Well? Aren't you gonna go inside?"
As one, Allen and Lavi turned to look into the darkened interior of the house. In the waning sunlight that spilled over the threshold of the now-open door, they could barely make out vague, hulking shapes lining the walls of the narrow entryway. The mat on the floor just inside the door was faded and worn, but they could clearly read its message. Unlike many houses that sported happy, floral mats that practically screamed "Welcome!", this mat was a dull beige and literally read "Go Away."
Lavi raised an eyebrow at this. "Guy really wasn't social, was he?"
"Must not have been," Allen agreed.
Neither of them made a move to enter the dark, stuffy house.
"Well?" Daisya said after a moment of awkward silence.
"Are you coming with us?" Lavi asked him, a bit desperately.
"Hell no!" Daisya answered. "If I get caught by the police one more time I'll lose my soccer scholarship for sure. You have fun, though."
"Are we going in or not?" Allen said lowly.
"We can't really back out now, can we?" Lavi muttered. "Daisya would never let us live it down."
They both looked over their shoulders at the soccer player, who waved at them jauntily.
Lavi let out a slow breath. "All right then." He reached out and took Allen's hand (neither of them saw Daisya's raised eyebrow at this) and pulled him into the darkness.
Allen pulled the door almost entirely closed behind them. This was in order not to draw suspicion and also to leave a way out if they needed to make a quick escape. They crept along, trailing their fingers along the wall to keep from crashing into anything. When they left the entryway and moved into a larger room, Allen's hand hit a light switch. He cautiously flicked it on.
Unfortunately, since no one had lived in the house for quite some time, the electricity was turned off and the light fixture above them remained dark. Allen made a frustrated noise, but Lavi began digging in the backpack Allen hadn't even realized he'd brought.
"Got us covered, neighbor," Lavi said, pulling out two flashlights. He handed one to Allen and then flicked on his own, sweeping the narrow beam of light around the room. Allen quickly followed suit.
It was the living room, they discovered, and it was stuffed with antique furniture. A large red-velvet couch sat in front of a brick fireplace, with two matching chairs on either side. The coffee and end tables were a dark mahogany, and if they hadn't been so coated with dust they would have been beautiful. Tiffany lamps sat upon them and Allen marveled at the colors and designs of their shades.
"This is clearly an old-person house," Lavi said, wrinkling his nose. "Look at all of this old furniture. And who likes Tiffany lamps anymore?"
"I do," Allen said, a little offended.
Lavi shined his flashlight directly into Allen's eyes and chuckled at his protests. "You would like Tiffany lamps."
"I think they're classy," Allen said haughtily. He moved toward the closest one, but knocked his leg against something on the floor that had been concealed by the darkness. He toppled onto the couch in a cloud of dust.
Immediately, Lavi began sneezing uncontrollably.
"Damn…you…Allen…" Lavi said in between bouts of sneezing. "I'm…sensitive…to…dust!"
"Then why the hell did we even come into this old house?" Allen wanted to know, brushing off his pants as he held in a sneeze of his own. "Old houses are bound to be filled with dust, Lavi. Especially old houses that haven't been lived in for quite some time."
"Yeah, well…" Lavi trailed off, wiping furiously at his nose and pouting.
Allen was quiet for a moment, listening to Lavi curse softly and mutter to himself about the evils of dust, allergies, and clumsy beansprouts.
"If you're quite finished," Allen said, once his friend had trailed off into petulant silence.
"Yeah, yeah," Lavi grumbled, moving toward the far side of the room. He stepped carefully, shining the light on the floor in order to avoid tripping over anything.
"What are you looking for?" Allen wondered.
"There's an old roll-top desk over here that looks promising," Lavi explained. Intrigued, Allen followed cautiously.
The desk was shoved into the far back corner, partially concealed by a stack of cardboard boxes pretentiously labeled Things of Significant Importance. Lavi shifted the topmost boxes to the side and pulled up on the yellowed packing tape that held them closed.
"Would you look through these for me, neighbor?" he requested. "If they're as important as the label would like us to believe there might be something I can use in there."
"What am I looking for?" Allen asked, lifting the flaps on the box closest to him. He shone his flashlight inside and squinted at the contents.
"Anything that looks historical, I guess," Lavi said carelessly, slipping into the narrow space between yet another stack of boxes and the front of the desk.
"That's not very descriptive," Allen murmured, but began digging nonetheless.
"Damn, looks like this thing needs a key to open," came Lavi's slightly muffled voice. "It shouldn't be too…oh, here it is!" There was a scraping sound and the boxes directly to Allen's left swayed dangerously.
"Watch what you're doing back there," Allen snapped, reaching out his hand to steady the stack. "If these things fall over they could crush me."
"Right, right, 'careful' is my middle name," Lavi replied.
"I highly doubt that," Allen snorted, holding a stack of papers close to his face to read them. They were old receipts, he realized. "Well, it seems that Mr. uh…" he trailed off, attempting to read the name on the wrinkled old papers and failing miserably. "Mr. Whatever-his-name-was bought an entire kitchen set in 1976. In avocado green, no less. I'm assuming you aren't interested in this."
"Not particularly, no," Lavi said.
"Hmm. Well, it seems the contents of this box are old receipts. For everything the man ever bought, I'd say. Who would want to keep records of all of this?"
"My Gramps does," Lavi admitted. "The guy records everything, it's ridiculous. Ah, here we go!"
"Find something?" Allen asked, closing the first box and sliding over to inspect the second.
"It's a letter from a publishing company. Seems Mr. History was writing a book about…something."
"History, I'd imagine," Allen replied sardonically. "Goodness, what is all of this now?"
"What's all what now?" Lavi asked curiously, poking his head out from behind a box.
"It seems Mr. History was an avid collector of…I think these are doilies?"
"What the fuck is a doily?" Lavi demanded.
"You know, they're those lace things that you put on the backs of chairs and on top of tables and stuff. They're decorative," he said, holding one up. It was old, yellowed, and a bit frayed, but the delicate design indicated high-quality craftsmanship.
Lavi frowned at it before disappearing behind the stack of boxes again. "So just more lame old-people shit?" he said dismissively. "You probably like those things, too," he added slyly.
"I do not!" Allen said indignantly. "They're—"
The white haired boy abruptly cut off his tirade and whipped his head around. He eyed the darkened entrance to what he assumed to be the kitchen warily.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
"Did I hear what?" Lavi replied, not even bothering to pause as he continued to rifle through the desk.
"Shh!" Allen said.
Lavi did pause at this, leaning around the boxes again to raise a questioning eyebrow at Allen. He opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again with an audible click.
A soft rustling sound was coming from the kitchen.
"Does that sound like…footsteps to you?" Lavi whispered worriedly.
"I sure hope not," Allen whispered back. "If we're caught, we're going to have a hard time explaining what we're doing in here."
Lavi turned to look at him, his single eye wide. "Ghosts aren't going to ask for an explanation, Allen."
Allen just stared at him.
"What?" the redhead hissed.
"Ghosts," Allen said flatly, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey, you're the one who said that the house looked haunted when we first got here!"
"True," Allen admitted. "I mean, this house is rather creepy-looking, after all. But I was just being grumpy. I don't actually think this place is haunted, Lavi."
"How can you be sure?" Lavi worried, eye straying toward the kitchen again.
"Because there's no such thing," Allen said, in a tone of voice he usually reserved for conversing with small children.
"I dunno, man," Lavi said, inching out from behind the boxes again to stand next to Allen. "I've read about some really weird stuff during my research. Did you know that there's this old castle in England where—"
"I don't want to hear about it," Allen interrupted, holding up a hand.
"Ah, what's this?" Lavi teased. "I thought you said there was no such thing as ghosts."
"And I still maintain that there aren't," Allen said, closing the doily box and standing himself. "But all the same, I'd rather not have you telling creepy stories in this dark, stuffy house, okay?"
"All right, but it's really a good—" He cut off as the shuffling was heard again, this time louder and closer.
"Maybe we should get out of here," Allen breathed.
"But I want to find this mysterious manuscript," Lavi said, determined. "According to all of the documents I found in that desk, Mr. History was researching a few of the ideas I'm exploring for my thesis. So I need to find this thing."
Allen was about to protest when Lavi firmly gripped his shoulders, spun him around, and pushed him toward the staircase. He struggled briefly but soon gave up. Once again, Lavi was going to get his way.
They both decided it would be best to avoid the kitchen.
"Nobody stores manuscripts in kitchens, anyway," Lavi insisted.
The stairs were treacherous. The sun had almost completely set while they were investigating the living room, and the creaky stairway ascended into total blackness.
"Um," Allen said anxiously.
"Come on, come on," Lavi urged, enthusiasm returning now that they were out of the immediate vicinity of the ominous kitchen-shuffling. His hands were still clutching Allen's shoulders and he gave him a soft push. The white haired boy stumbled forward with a squeak.
"Stop pushing me," Allen commanded.
"Stop just standing there," Lavi retorted.
"Why don't you go first, then?" Allen snapped.
"Heh heh," Lavi chuckled weakly, removing his left hand from Allen's shoulder to tug at his collar. "Ladies first?"
"I am not a lady!" Allen hissed.
"Nothin' wrong with being a lady, little buddy," Lavi said, pushing him up the stairs. "In fact, I really like ladies."
"I am aware of this. Everyone is aware of this. And that would all be very well and good," Allen said, dragging his feet as Lavi continued to force him to ascend the stairs. "If I were, you know, actually female. Which I'm not. At all."
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Lavi said, in a convincing imitation of a British accent.
"You can't use that!" Allen cried.
"What do you mean?" Lavi said, his voice a little strained as he shoved Allen onto the topmost step.
"That quote! I used that quote against you before, when we were talking to my pathetic excuse for a godfather, so you can't use it against me now!"
"Says who?" Lavi demanded, steering Allen down the hall and into the first room they came to.
"You just…can't!" Allen maintained. "It's a rule! Or something."
"Uh huh," Lavi said, pulling his flashlight out of his bag again. Allen had seen him store it there in order to have both of his hands free to manhandle him. Still, the redhead kept one hand on Allen's shoulder as he swept the narrow beam of light around the room.
"Where are we?" Allen wondered, shining his own light on a pile of junk on the floor.
"Looks like a bedroom," Lavi replied. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, heaped with clothes that smelled old and musty. A rickety dresser sat in the corner and the mirror that hung above it was cracked right down the middle. Picture frames hung on each of the four walls, but upon closer inspection the boys found that they were empty.
"This is weird," Allen said, running a finger along a dusty frame.
"Very," Lavi agreed. "But it doesn't seem like there's anything important in here, so maybe we should find another room?"
"All right," Allen agreed.
They took about three steps toward the door before they heard a loud bang from behind them. They both whirled around, and Lavi held his flashlight up like a sword.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"Don't know," Allen said, shaking his head. He shone his light along the floor and found that the picture frame he'd been inspecting had fallen, leaving glass and splintered wood littering the floor. "Huh. The picture wire must have been weak and gave way when I touched it."
"Then why didn't it fall when you were actually touching it?" Lavi inquired suspiciously. "Why did it fall when we were walking away?"
"Shifting air currents made by our bodies being in motion?" Allen guessed.
"Sure," Lavi agreed. But he looked troubled.
"You're not going to blame ghosts again, are you?" Allen said, putting his hands on his hips.
"No!" Lavi said quickly.
Allen raised his eyebrows.
"Come on, let's just go." Lavi grasped his wrist and dragged him across the hall.
"Why do you always drag me everywhere?" Allen asked, wrenching his arm from the taller boy's grip and rubbing his wrist.
"Would you willingly come with me if I didn't?"
"Probably not," Allen admitted.
"Then there you go," Lavi said, smiling winningly. "Okay, this is a bathroom."
It was a bathroom, Allen noted. The pale blue tile on the walls and on the floor was cracked and molding; a claw-footed tub stood in a pool of stagnant water. The whole room smelled of decay.
"Ugh, look at that thing. I don't like claw-footed tubs," Lavi said, inching away from it.
"Why not?" Allen asked. "They're antique. They give the place a bit of class. Goodness knows this bathroom needs it."
"But, dude," Lavi said, distressed. "It's a bathtub. With feet."
"And?"
"Why do bathtubs need feet, hmm? Shit, the thing has talons, Allen. Talons! What does it need talons for? The only things that have talons are, like, birds of prey and stuff. Is this bathtub a predator? How can you have a relaxing bubble bath in a carnivorous bathtub? Think about it."
Allen just stared at him.
"What?" Lavi said defensively.
"Lavi," Allen said, patting the redhead's shoulder affectionately. "It takes a very special kind of person to pull off a crazed rant like that. I'm a bit impressed, really."
"It wasn't crazed!" Lavi insisted. "Just look at its talons, Allen. Look at them!"
"That's why it's called a 'claw-footed tub'," Allen explained slowly.
"It's creepy," Lavi said, folding his arms across his chest and pouting.
"All right, we'll go to a different room and leave the scary tub behind. I'll even close the door behind us so it can't get out," Allen said in a voice one would use to soothe a frightened puppy.
Lavi scowled at him and stalked out into the hallway.
Allen followed, snickering. It felt good to have the upper hand for once, he decided. As he turned to close the door behind him, he thought he caught sight of something just to the right of the tub. He brought up his flashlight for a closer look, but when he shone the light there was nothing there. He frowned and began to turn, but heard a quiet splash and watched the surface of the puddle beneath the tub begin to ripple. He bolted out of the room and slammed the door shut. He leaned heavily against it, wide eyed and panting. Lavi was leaning against the wall across the hall, hands behind his head. When he caught Allen's eye, he gave him a knowing look.
"Told you they were creepy."
Their enthusiasm for this adventure was rapidly deteriorating, but Lavi was resolute in his desire to find this alleged manuscript and refused to let Allen leave.
"But beansprout, I need it," Lavi whined, as they crept into the last room at the end of the hall.
"My name is Allen."
"Dude, get over it," Lavi sighed. "Seriously."
"How would you like it if someone called you a stupid nickname all the time?"
"I'd love it!" Lavi said, grinning. "I always wanted a good nickname. I guess Yu always calls me 'stupid rabbit,' and while I don't mind it, I kinda want something cooler."
"Like what?" Allen wondered.
"I dunno," Lavi said, squinting into the darkness. "I can't come up with my own nickname. That's not how nicknames work. Plus, it's lame. You should come up with one for me!" he decided, his single green eye shining.
"I don't think so," Allen said. "Sorry."
"Why not?" Lavi demanded, strangely offended. "I'm not cool enough for a nickname?"
"I don't like nicknames," Allen pointed out. "So why would I want to come up with one for you?"
"Oh," Lavi said, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess that makes sense. But I'm like, your bestest friend in the whole universe! You'd think you'd get over your irrational hatred in order to be a good friend."
"It's not irrational. What's wrong with wanting to be called by your real—"
Creak.
"What the hell was that," Lavi demanded, shining his flashlight out into the hallway.
"I don't know," Allen whispered.
Creak.
"Is there someone on the stairs?"
"Dude, don't ask me," Lavi said, holding up a hand. "I ain't going out there to check."
Creak.
"Hello?" Allen called tentatively. "Is someone there?"
Silence.
"Dude, this is the freakiest shit I've ever been through," Lavi whispered fiercely. "Let's just find that manuscript and go, yeah?"
"Maybe we should just go, manuscript be damned," Allen said, edging away from the door.
"But this is obviously an office of some kind," Lavi said, indicating the large oak desk and the straight-backed chair that sat in front of it. He waved a hand at three metal filing cabinets that stood along the left-hand wall. "If there's a manuscript to be found in this house, it's probably in one of—"
Creak.
Lavi squeaked and wrapped his arms around Allen's neck, smashing the shorter boy's face against his chest.
"Lavi!" Allen sputtered. "I can't breathe!"
"Wha? Oh, sorry, buddy!" Lavi loosened his grip a bit but didn't let go, staring intently at the doorway.
"Did you want to check those filing cabinets?" Allen asked awkwardly. He was acutely aware of Lavi's closeness and he felt his face flush with…what? Embarrassment? Annoyance? Something like that, he supposed.
"Yeah," Lavi said, shifting so that he still had one arm around Allen's shoulders and dragging him toward the drawers. He positioned his body so that he was between Allen and the doorway at all times. The first filing cabinet was empty, and the top two drawers of the second held nothing Lavi deemed to be of importance. He scanned the files he found with surprising speed, reading the contents of six or seven folders in the time it took Allen to read one. At last, the redhead's hand fell upon a thick manila envelope labeled Manuscript—Private in curvy writing. "Bingo!" the redheaded boy cried, holding it up in triumph.
Creak.
"Let's get the hell out of here," Allen whispered.
"I'm right there with ya, neighbor. But how do you propose we do that?"
Neither of them had any desire to set foot in the hallway—not with all of the creaking going on out there.
"We could always try the window," Allen suggested.
"That's a good idea!" Lavi said, patting his friend on the back. They made their way toward the window and drew back the curtain. The sun had set long ago, and the crescent moon barely illuminated the yard. Still, the boys could plainly see the dark outline of tree branches that ran conveniently level with the window. "We'll just climb out the window and onto the tree," Lavi said, prying open the rusted lock and heaving open the squeaky window.
"We're on the second floor, though," Allen said nervously. "What if we fall?"
Lai looked down at the ground, uncertain as well. "It is a bit high up."
Creak.
Creak.
Creak.
Shuffle.
"Oh shit, the damn shuffling is back," Lavi muttered. "I was really hoping it would stay in the kitchen."
"It sounds like it's coming from right outside the door," Allen pointed out helpfully.
"So it does," Lavi said. Then he pasted on a giant, fake smile. "Come on, Allen! We can just climb out this window and down to the ground. This tree isn't very high up at all!"
"But you just said it was high up," Allen began.
"No I didn't!" Lavi said through clenched teeth.
"Yes you—"
"Climb the damn tree," Lavi commanded, giving Allen a little shove toward the open window.
"What about you?"
"I'll be right behind you. Just go, okay?"
"Is this another 'ladies first' thing?" Allen said, frowning.
"No, this is a 'you go first because I don't want to leave you alone and unprotected in a potentially haunted house' thing. So just go."
"You're trying to protect me?" Allen asked, bewildered.
Creak.
Shuffle.
"Allen Walker, if you don't climb out this window in the next five seconds, I will push you out of it," Lavi said, dangerously serious.
"All right," Allen gulped, sticking his right leg outside and grabbing for the sturdiest branch he could reach. Once he was successfully wedged in the tree, he slowly descended. He jumped when he was low enough to the ground to do so without hurting himself, and looked back up at the open window. "Come on, Lavi!" he called.
The redhead appeared in the window briefly. "Catch," he said, and threw the manuscript down to Allen, who caught it without difficulty. When Allen looked back up at the window, however, Lavi was gone.
"Lavi?" he called uncertainly.
There was a shout, followed by a resounding crash.
"LAVI!" Allen screamed.
And Lavi flew out of the window, catching the closest branch and clinging to it desperately. "The power of Christ compels you!" he roared, as he began his hasty descent. "The power of Christ compels you!"
"What?" Allen said, frowning, but Lavi hit the ground running and seized his wrist as he passed. Allen was, once again, dragged along in the frantic redhead's wake. They sprinted around the side of the house and hit the sidewalk at a dead run, nearly bowling over a young couple out on a romantic evening walk.
"Watch where you're going!" the man yelled. The woman stared after them in shock.
Allen began to apologize, but Lavi cut him off. "No time for niceties, neighbor," he wheezed.
They blew past Daisya's house, where he sat on the porch waiting for them.
"Hey, why are you guys running? What happen—"
"We'll tell you later!" Lavi yelled, not slowing down. They tore down the sidewalk back to their own neighborhood until they finally reached Lavi's house. They flung open the front door and dashed into the living room, startling Kanda and causing him to drop his homework on the floor.
"What the hell are you two doing?" he growled.
They ignored him, flinging themselves down on the couch and panting heavily.
Kanda huffed, scowl deepening with every second he remained ignored. "Hey. I asked you idiots a question."
"Yu!" Lavi gasped. "Oh, God…Yu, we… We almost died!"
Kanda just stared at him, clearly unimpressed.
"We were in this house, right?" Lavi began, sitting up as he finally caught his breath. "And we were looking for this thing, okay? But the whole time we were there, there was this shuffling noise, and then there were all of these creaking noises, and then the bathtub was possessed." He paused. "Probably."
"That makes absolutely no sense," Kanda scoffed. "Ghosts aren't real, morons. I can't believe you were scared of some stupid little noises. And the bathtub."
"You weren't there," Allen said, finally able to breathe again. "You would have been scared too."
"The only things I'm scared of," Kanda began, standing up and gathering his things. "Are your special brands of stupidity and cowardice rubbing off on me. I'm leaving."
"Woulda been nice to have you there, though," Lavi said, rubbing his chin. "Next time we go on an adventure, you're coming too, okay?"
"No!" Allen and Kanda said together. They glared at each other.
"Hey look! See? You two get along better than you think!" Lavi grinned, pleased.
"As if I would get along with that pony-tailed jerk!" Allen said, pointing at Kanda in disgust.
"Che. Like I want to even look at your stupid face, beansprout." And before Allen could even open his mouth to retort, the Japanese boy swept angrily from the room.
"He's just jealous that we had an adventure and he didn't get to come," Lavi said, patting Allen's shoulder.
"An adventure? Is that what that was? I'm pretty sure that was a near-death experience," Allen retorted, holding a hand over his heart. "Next time you come over to my house with an idea for an 'adventure,' I'm locking the door."
"Mean!" Lavi whined. "I saved your life!"
"You did not."
"Yes I did! Dude, I fought a ghost for you!"
"You did not fight a ghost," Allen said, rolling his eyes.
"Did you not hear the epic battle?" Lavi said indignantly. "I had it on the ropes."
"I heard you yelling, and then a crash that sounded like maybe you'd fallen over," Allen said, pretending he hadn't been frantic for Lavi's safety. "Then you jumped out the window and did some more yelling. Which, by the way? Was weird. 'The power of Christ compels you'? What do you think you are, an exorcist?"
"Hey, I could be," Lavi insisted with a grin.
"Uh huh," Allen said, unconvinced.
"So!" Lavi said brightly, turning to him with an air of intense excitement. "Give me the envelope, man! We almost got, like, possessed or whatever in our quest for this, so we need to enjoy the spoils of our spiritual war!"
"You're so weird," Allen sighed, handing over the manuscript.
"I'll take that as a compliment." The redhead tore open the manila envelope with trembling fingers and pulled out a thick stack of papers. He scanned them eagerly, flipping through them quickly. Allen watched in confusion as his friend's expression slowly morphed from gleeful to puzzled. "What the hell is this shit?"
"What?" Allen asked, scooting closer and reading the paper over Lavi's shoulder. "Let Them Eat Cake," he read aloud. "Three cups cake flour, sifted, two teaspoons baking powder, one and one fourth cup sugar…What?"
"This is a cookbook," Lavi said dumbly.
"A cookbook."
"Yeah. A cookbook that seems to be playing off of significant events in history. Like, here's 'Napolean' Napolean," Lavi said, flipping to another page and showing Allen a recipe for the pastry dessert. "It uses grapes and cream cheese, which this author seems to think makes it French."
"That's…really wrong," Allen said, dumbfounded.
"Here's 'Titanic' Punch," Lavi said, showing the white-haired boy another page. "Apparently, it's just regular fruit punch, but then you put a huge chunk of ice in the bowl and float a toy boat in it."
"That seems unsanitary," Allen said, wrinkling his nose. "So what's up with "Let Them Eat Cake', uh, cake?"
"Supposedly—and this was just before the French Revolution—when Marie Antoinette was informed that French peasants had no bread to eat, her reply was 'let them eat cake,' which was callous and snobby because, you know. If peasants can't afford bread, they sure as hell can't afford cake."
"Huh," Allen said, looking at the recipe again. "That's actually kind of clever."
"No it isn't!" Lavi said vehemently. "That quote was falsely attributed to Marie Antoinette. She never even said it! This book would have continued to propagate inaccurate stories as historical fact!"
"Oh," Allen said. He remained quiet for a moment while Lavi glared at the stack of papers as if they had personally offended him. And in a way, Allen supposed, they had.
Finally, Lavi sighed and looked up at Allen with a sardonic grin. "So, we scared the shit out of ourselves and risked our lives jumping out of a second story window for a historically inaccurate cookbook."
"That would seem t be the case," Allen said lightly.
Lavi sighed again and laid his head on Allen's shoulder dejectedly. "Son of a bitch."
Allen chuckled quietly and flicked Lavi's forehead. "This is what you get for listening to Daisya Barry."
"Daisya!" Lavi gasped, sitting bolt upright. "I bet it was him creeping around the house and trying to scare us!"
"But we saw him on his porch when we were running away, there's no way he could have—"
"Oh, he thinks he's so clever," Lavi interrupted, standing and glowering. "We'll see how clever he is after I kick his ass."
"That doesn't even make—"
"Come on, beansprout," Lavi said, grabbing Allen in a headlock and dragging him toward the front door. "We're going to go pay our friend Daisya a little visit."
And Allen simply sighed, allowing himself to be hauled off on the incomparable Lavi Bookman's misguided mission for vengeance.
He he he. It's up to you whether you want to believe the house was actually haunted or not or if Lavi and Allen were just being spazzes. Next chapter: the return of Tyki Mikk! Dun dun DUN! Also, Halloween ridiculousness. Seeya next Saturday!