I'm not sure what happened to this chapter. Really, I'm not. But—to hell with it. You get another flashback scene, which takes up the majority of this chapter XD (though thankfully not all of it). Though I will say: the beginning is in Tyki's POV. It brings up (vaguely) the incident that happened in the prolog/1st chapter. If you don't remember it, then it might do some good to go back and re-read it. To at least get the setting I've got Lavi's POV in here...as a sort of transition to get to Kanda's POV. -nods-
Note: Lavi's POV is NOT SUPPOSED TO MAKE SENSE. You'll see when I get there, but he's constantly thinking about what happened, what's going to happen, and he's getting the tenses screwed up (do I need to explain why?). Just a forewarning. Also for a time reference: The whole last chapter happened within the 4 hour gap that was when Allen was 'sleeping' (before he made his phone call to Lavi), and at the end of this chapter you see the phone call brought up again. Sorry for any confusion that might've brought up
Oh and Notes again (for Kanda's POV only) are the same as last chapter:
Regular – normal (current) timeframe
Regular – flashback
Reviews: (THANKS SO MUCH AGAIN for them! This is seriously making me very happy right now XD)
TokyoDarjeeling: Teh, it seems I'm unintentionally lining up my updates with the manga (well, close enough, anyway), though that's probably for convenience sake...-since her weeks are like...gone now- But regardless, I'm very happy you like the way I handeled the flashback scene (I wasn't sure how I did), and I hope you like this one too (considering I wasn't even thinking of putting it in, but I liked the idea enough, so I'm...not too surprised? XD)! And of course, thanks so much for the review! -hugs- it means a lot~ (especially with exams around the corner . -must make a B in French, she definitely MUST- )
-------(Tyki's POV)-------
And he knew, when he looked at me—dammit it, for brotherly-bonds—that I had been talking to said-red head.
"Well," I shrugged, "You did just call me out of the blue about," my eyes trailed to the boy, who was sniffling now, with a piece of Road's candy in his hand, "and he's quite good with children." And I had the distinct feeling Road was trying not to look at me. Like maybe this was her fault. Or—or maybe something else that I couldn't quite place.
Because she knew so much, after all.
"Really?" Thick and suspicious and that was not good, "Is he on his way over now?"
"No," I answered, "He didn't even pick up." Okay, that was a lie, and Road saw through it—maybe.
"Smart move," Sheryl let it slide though, thankfully. "But you still tried to call him." He wouldn't let that go, though, I grimaced.
"Well, I'm sure he would have helped." I eyed the boy on the ground, I recognized him, if not only vaguely.
"And why would he have helped?"
I noticed Jasedero and Devit poking their heads out of their room—one yawning, the other looking peeved and just a bit de-shelved. I made the mental note not to ask.
"Tyki?" demanding, I switched my attention back to brother-dearest-
"Well," I paused, just to take in his expression again. Yup. Not a happy camper, "He's good with kids? You're good with kids?" Well—at least somewhat anyway—"Why'd you have to call me?"
"Because," terse, and he was still angry. But I should be thankful—maybe—that he wasn't as easy to de-hinge as Skinn. I grimaced inwardly at the thought. The lunatic—"I would appreciate it if you gave me your undivided attention before I say this," he snapped, and I turned my attention back, "you didn't pick up, yesterday, for one."
I blinked, "Eh? When'd you call me?"
"Around Midnight." He responded—like that was normal
"I was out."
he scowled, "Doing what?" He was going to rant about unnecessary attachments, wasn't he? This was where that was going, right?
"Doing my job?"
He stared at me. "Really?" I nodded my head, "At midnight?" another nod, then, "Goodness, you must've scared him out of his wits then."
I shrugged, "I'm not even sure he entirely saw me."
"He was out of the building?"
"Taking out the trash."
"But the trash doesn't go on—" he cut himself off, shaking his head, "Then tell me, if you did see him, and he was taking out the trash, did—"
"He looked annoyed." I answered back—fully aware that Jasdero and Devit were leaning against their door, and Veronica was walking over to the boy now, like she thought she'd have better luck comforting him. But then she was good with kids, so—
"Anything else?" Sheryl noticed me staring. "After all, doesn't he room with that red-head?"
"He does." I quickly agreed, trying to recall—I was sure he hadn't seen me, after all I had stayed near my car. And it was dark. And my car was black, so—"He might've been upset about something, but I'm pretty inclined to not guess."
"Just like you oh so weren't inclined to guess about the wonderful traffic incident they both got involved in—until—the red head told you about it?" (1)
I blinked.
He stared.
"Well, he did have to call me, to give them a ride to school." I answered, choosing my words carefully, "But I did see them walk out of the Police Station—right after it happened."
"And what did you do?"
'Tried to call him.' But if I said that I'd be in trouble, "I followed. Lavi was with him the whole time though, and I think he guessed—"
"And how did he guess?"
It was lame, and I knew it, but I said it anyway, "I don't know?"
Now he looked a bit more like the person he was supposed to be. But he kept it in, probably—maybe—because Road was looking at us again (Veronica, half shielding both of them, because maybe he mentioned something to her before hand, or maybe because she was just like that—without giving a damn).
"Brother," he started, and I gritted my teeth, but kept my face calm, if I reacted now then—"I'd love to believe you, you know I would. But, unfortunately you're making it too hard to believe." I had the urge to lick my lips—or distract myself, somehow, but I didn't, "I understand that those two are roommates—childhood friends, even. Your goal is to simply watch the one named Kanda—there's nothing in that agreement that mentions anything about the redhead."
He exhaled, and before I could get a word in, continued, "Not that I don't see any issues befriending him to get on Kanda's 'good side' but, quite honestly, at this point it's detrimental to the assignment."
Coded words. Lovely, lovely, coded fucking words.
"Well I certainly don't mean for it to." And I could tell from the look on his face that I should have just kept my mouth shut. Really.
"I'm certain you don't." Liquid poison. Almost, "But it has become an issue, and I certainly don't want you to get caught up in whatever meager role he plays." Emphasis, too, on pointed words that I knew he had to mean something by.
But—was it just me?—did he—sound nervous?
Devit was eyeing him too at his—I wouldn't call it a slip up but it almost seemed like it. He was nervous of the redhead, but—why?
A flash of a room, with overturned desks—and Lavi, bleeding—entered my mind—and his…expression—his—
Or, well, no. He had a reason to. Just, "brother," I exhaled, "I don't think it would be horrible if I talked to him, after all, do you know how long he's been friends with Kanda?" He thought that over, before shaking his head. He didn't look like he'd believe me, though, and I almost dropped it—just because of that—
But. I didn't.
"Since he was eight years old." I explained, "A month before their home burned down, and his parents died."
Ah. Recognition. But not the kind I wanted.
---------------------------------
(Lavi's POV)
It took me a moment before I registered much of anything, from the fact he didn't hit me—or react, well, at all for the first couple of minutes—to the fact that he hightailed it to the bathroom, and the fact that I knew I was going to have to pay for the lock to be repaired.
But then, maybe we really shouldn't have locks in the apartment. Doors are fine, but locks—could be bad. Very bad. They already were. But at least I didn't have to worry about him doing anything stupid.
Scalding himself with hot water, yeah, but that was better than anything else he could do. Everything else given.
And, hey, he didn't struggle—once I had time to actually think about it—when I dragged him out of the shower, and turned the water off. Sopping wet, yeah, but he didn't even protest then—when I changed his clothes.
It almost made me panic for a completely different reason.
But now. Now I could just sit here—and stare.
Because it'd been an hour, since I laid him down here. He wouldn't yell at me for watching him, right? Right?
especially with how much he was twitching. Or had been, he looked like he just might wake up. But that always meant something else. I knew it did.
Like the guy trying to barge right in—like Marie going on and on about how worried he was—was that a few seconds ago? I couldn't remember—but Kanda was blinking now, Yuu was, but he didn't seem awake yet—which was good—
And he said he chose me?
What the fuck was that about?
Yuu didn't do a damned thing. I forced myself on him, and maybe that was bad but Yuu was Yuu and—I couldn't help but watch him. Maybe it was because of that, but it wasn't his fault.
'Whose fault, then?'
Mine.
Of course it was.
I would've laughed if it had the chance of waking him up, but I didn't. I kept my mouth shut, because he was blinking now—still dazed—and I could tell that Marie had probably woken him up and I didn't like him for that. Or maybe I did, because I was worried enough.
But to blame Yuu. To say Yuu Chose Me. When I chose him to begin with?
How twisted was that supposed to be?
He didn't have to choose me. I'd be his shield regardless. I just wanted to help. Did he have to tell me? No. I was glad he did, sure, but—but—
He didn't have to.
I clenched my hands into fists, feeling the blunt nails dig into my skin, but I didn't want to draw blood. Not with Yuu lying there, looking like he wasn't here to see it.
No. Not to see it—I mentally shook that thought away—I'd smile, probably, when he woke up. That's why I was standing in front of him. Sitting, actually, but. That didn't matter.
I unclenched one hand enough to reach out—and grab, a strand or two, of his hair. It was wet still, I hadn't looked at a clock to see how long he was in there. It might've been a while. He looked tired, I wanted to say something like—"Go back to sleep" or, "You look sleepy Yuu-chan! It's still early, go back to bed!"
But he didn't look like he was ready for it.
Because.
I wasn't an idiot.
Bringing up old memories. That's probably what would cause them—the nightmares he was sure to have if he shut his eyes. The ones he probably remembered but tried to forget.
Because I asked.
How can—bringing that much pain—how can that—but it was needed. And he—I guess he trusted me enough.
'Can he?'
Could he?
I didn't know.
I squeezed those strands of hair, and watched the water, drip out, between my fingers, to the wood floor.
'Can you trust me?' Because I knew so much more than him, 'I'm doing everything for you, y'know?'
With Tyki. And the fact he wants you but the fact that he's got me instead.
'I'm putting myself in that position because of you.'
Because I want to be trusted by him.
But I don't want him to trust me. Not that way.
'It doesn't make sense.'
I felt the hair tug, a little, away from my grip, and now his eyes were focusing on me, or trying. Obsidian with a hint of grey. A terribly neutral color that wouldn't have been attractive if it wasn't on Yuu Kanda.
But it was. So. It didn't matter.
I tried to put on a smile, though I didn't think he'd see it. Not enough for it to mean anything, anyway. But then—maybe he did—because his eyes widened, just a little, and he tried to sit up—tried to sit up, with foggy looking eyes and—
He was remembering something again.
Well.
Shit.
"Yuu?"
-- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - -
"Your hair's longer than mine." She repeated, and I tried to ignore her, sitting there, next to me, "Why do you keep it so long?"
I didn't feel like explaining, so I shrugged, and took another sip out of my juice box.
"Hey, hey," she tried again, "Why is your hair so long?" I heard her before I felt her—tangling her hand in my hair. I jerked away, and tried to ignore the sting. I was pretty sure she had yanked some hair out. "It's all soft too," she pointed out, and her hand was right back there again.
"Get your hand out of my hair."
"Why?"I glared back at her, and she blinked—innocently enough—placing her juice box on the table behind her, "I want to."
"I don't want you to."
"Well I do." She spat back, her free hand reaching up to her own hair—short and messily cut, like whoever did it didn't give a damn. "And I'm bored."
"Go be bored by yourself."
"But I don't want to be bored."
I rolled my eyes, "So?"
"Make me un-bored."
I raised an eyebrow, but didn't look at her. "Why should I?"
"Because I'm [-- -- -- --]! That's why!"
That bothered me. Really. Really. Bothered me.
"So you have to." She got that easily enough.
"No. I don't. Just because you're, [-- -- -- --] doesn't mean I have to do a damn thing." I jumped off the chair I had been sitting in and moved across the room, throwing my juice box in the trash. I wasn't thirsty anymore.
"You're mean."
"You're a [-- -- --]."
She raised an eyebrow at that, "You know that word?"
I shrugged, "Maybe."
"Well, then you're a [-- -- --] too. You even look like one." Dead panned tone.
What the—
"No I'm not."
"Yeah you are." She slid off her chair too, and before I could move, her hand was in my hair again. She was tugging it. She was pulling it—and my arm—"See I can even show you."
"No you—" I tried not to wince when she tugged my hair even harder—making it sting even more. I tried to push her away, but her grip just tightened and—
'What's with girls and nails?'
"Yeah I can." She laughed, and—she—let go? "Your mom's got it somewhere right? Right?"
"Got what?"
"A-whatever-it's-called."
"A what?" I followed her as she disappeared around the corner. I didn't trust her. Not when it was just us in the house (though mom was outside. I could just run in and get her. But I wouldn't—and I didn't know why)
"Starts with a Y." I caught up with her in time to see her disappear into my room—my closet—"Um, um," I heard a loud thump and I almost wished something fell on her—if I knew she wasn't just going to blame me for it.
Without saying a word.
I really didn't get her. She was nothing like Lenalee. Heck. Lenalee cried if I tugged her hair, or said something mean. This girl just—
"Found it!" she never sounded excited about anything either. But she did sound hurt. Strained? Was it? Something.
I peered into my room long enough to see her drag out the box.
Oh.
That
Box.
"See?" she didn't even smile as she removed the lid and jerked the cloth out—
"Yukata?"
"Yeah that." She held it as far out from her as she could, "Your mom showed it to me. Said you'd wear it."
"I won't." Hands down. It was a—girls—design. Really.
"It's got Roses on it." She held it towards me, "Roses. They're red."
"And?"
Roses were red.
"Violets are blue." She lowered her voice.
But they're purple.
"I'm wearing the one with violets on it." She immediately agreed—or—like I didn't have a choice. "And you'll be Rose boy."
"No I won't." I wasn't going to wear one, "dad said I didn't have to." Because this was a multicultural festival—in the USA—most people wouldn't have—
"Yeah you will."
"No—" she threw the cloth at me, and I somehow managed to catch it.
"Yeah you will."
"Why?" I dropped the cloth on the floor.
"Because—I've given you a nickname." I blinked, she smiled, "Akahana."
-- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - -
"Hey, hey, you wanna lay down?" The red head asked.
Wasn't I already?
"Well, you are," He seemed to realize this too, and laughed. "I meant—your room. Do you want—to go to your room?"
I didn't think I could respond if I tried. But then—I didn't have to. The phone rang.
-- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - -
"We're supposed to be having fun." She tugged on my sleeve, "Oh come on Akahana! No one will recognize you, y'know."
"Yes. They. Will." Because I had just seen three classmates run by. They would tease me. I knew they would, and my parents would be there—and I couldn't move very well anyway.
"Oh but your mom's dressed up too! And so am I!" it was hilarious to argue with someone who did not have any emotion what so ever in their voice.
"You're both girls." Was my comeback.
"So? You look enough like one." I rolled my eyes, and she 'got it', "Is that why you don't want to go?"
I nodded without realizing it.
"But you're so cute! If they do notice, then it'll be because they like you." Again, monotone. Monotone. I didn't want to know how she pulled that off.
"I don't want them to."
She blinked a few times. Then sighed, "Well your mother said she didn't want you left in the house."
"You're here." Wait. Why did I say that? Why—
"So you want me to stay with you?" Amusement. Light. Amusement. Well—it was something, but it was something I didn't want. "I can if you really don't want to go."
And I really really didn't want to go. But then—I'd face the shame of classmates first than staying—here. With her.
"I'll go."
"You sure?"
I nodded, and turned away, stumbling a bit to get to my sandals by the door.
I felt her, vaguely, behind me—when I leaned down to slip on the shoes—and, when I turned back to look at her. I wish I hadn't.
She was grinning.
"I'm sure this'll be fun!"
( -- minutes/hours later )
I heard ringing. Familiar ringing . Dad's cell phone kind of ringing. Somewhere behind the trees—to the left—and I had to wonder—
How did I get lost?
Well. I did manage to lose her. But. Now I almost wished I hadn't, I could barely see the lights from the stands, and my feet were hurting. But then—if I had her with me—then that meant we'd be lost together and I didn't want to think of that.
She was a [-- -- --]
Nothing like Lenalee at all.
(Not that I wanted her to be)
I exhaled and tried to ignore my feet, concentrating, instead, on not tripping and ripping the Yukata mother bought me. I decided to wear it. I decided to come out here. It would be my fault if anything happened.
(And it was nice)
(Not that I'd wear it)
So I kept walking—towards the familiar ringing sound. Because that meant dad was close by, right? It meant he'd know where mother was. She was showing off her Yukata, too, I figured. She enjoyed it—the attention. She was proud like that.
Dad was too.
So why isn't he with her?
But I hadn't asked that question then.
Because I was little.
Parents always had a good reason for being away from each other, right? Yeah. He might've even known I had gone missing. Because he was my dad. Dad's were amazing, right?
So I kept moving towards the sound.
Until I heard his voice, "What?" I stopped. The ringing had stopped. And he sounded like he had a headache.
'Should I get mom?'
"I told you," his voice relaxed a little, "oh, [-- -- --]? Why are you—you're using your brothers phone?" A pause, Did I need to get mom still? "I see, well—what is it? I managed to get away from the crowd." Shifting, then the smell of tobacco. He only smoked when he had a really, really bad headache. Or if he was 'unsteady' after work. When I had to avoid him (or at least, Mother said I had to).
But he only smoked in his study. Nowhere else, because mother was allergic. Or something.
Something. Right.
"What?" I turned my attention back to the conversation, "Calm down, calm down, what?" He was using his soothing voice—So he must be fine. Mother didn't need to be called. I didn't need to go get her. But my stomach clenched again, in that uncomfortable way, "You're sure about this?" I peeked around the tree enough to see dad—but not let him see me—why am I hiding?—he was rubbing his forehead again.
"Okay, so he left, when?" He was calm, right? Soothing? But his expression didn't look it. He was rubbing his forehead so rough now—it was almost like he was scratching at it, "Yesterday? What time?" A brief pause, "So he should be here?" Another pause, the scratching stopped, but I saw blood. He drew his own blood. He looked stressed.
I backed up two spaces.
Swallowed.
Then I felt a hand—on my shoulder—that was not his. And was not mine and—
"Who's he talking to?" Rei. It was. Her. She looked confused. Or about as confused as someone like her could get.
"No one." I hissed back.
"Then why—"
"Because." Stupid girls asking stupid questions.
She didn't even look like she cared enough to be angry, "are we hiding?"
I opened my mouth—but shut it, almost instantly. Dad was scratching his forehead again, leaning against the tree he was closest too. Sighing, "He's definitely here." It wasn't a question like before, "Okay, fine. I should expect him then?" Then—then—he dropped his hand, and I tried to ignore the blood on his fingernails, "Okay then, I'll speak with you later. Now I have to find my son, and my wife."
Rei made some sort of clucking noise next to me, face still completely emotionless.
Dad didn't even get a chance to shut his cellphone—to slip it back in his pocket—before it was ringing again.
Ringing.
And.
He actually picked it up.
- - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - -
He was talking to someone.
Who?
He sounded—that 'forced' kind of tired, "Ah, I see, I see,"
What did he see?
"How do I get there?'
Wait.
He was leaving?
-- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - -
But he dropped it when he saw the number. Or he almost did. But instead—he slammed the phone shut, and slipped it into his pocket.
It didn't do any good.
It just kept ringing, and each time—with each set of rings—he looked that much more disturbed. And his hand was back on his forehead again (did it ever leave?) Not scratching but rubbing at the skin.
"Dammit." He hissed out, finally, reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone. He flipped it open—pressed a button—then held it up to his ear.
And I remembered not wanting to see that expression on his face. He was [-- -- --]
A word I knew I knew but didn't want to know.
I felt Rei shift, next to me, clicking lowly—and then—growling?—"I'm going back." She said, softly, stepping away from me, "It's not safe here."
And for the first time I wanted to listen to her. She was actually showing emotion—[-- -- --] but that was still an emotion, right?—she even tugged at my sleeve, "Please, Akahana." But she wouldn't stop calling me by that name.
I wouldn't get off that lucky.
But dad had opened his mouth—I saw it out of the corner of my mouth—so—so I was a stupid kid for once. I told her to leave—and I stayed.
Stayed, even, when I felt that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my belly, the one dad always said was silly, but the one mother always said was normal. Because dad looked outright panicked, his eyes didn't focus on anything, and his mouth was open.
Then—unmistakably—I heard footsteps—not from behind me (where Rei was—left—was—left.) but in front, somewhere behind the tree dad was standing behind. And then, almost abruptly, dad hung up again.
Cold.
Two black boots.
"Ah, Hokori," and a decidedly female voice. But—why?
"[-- -- --]," father managed to make his mouth move. He was not afraid. Right?
"The one and only." Did I see red hair? I think I saw red hair, "You really should pick up your phone more often." And something shiny—a cell phone, too?—"It could really save your ass sometimes."
And dad—dad laughed then. "You think?"
The red head nodded, I didn't see her face, but she was doing something with the silver shiny thing, "I know. Better be glad it's me."
"I am glad." Relief, dad was relieved. Was this person not bad? Then why did he freak out? And—why was I still hiding?
"Good to know." The woman answered, again, I couldn't remember the word for her voice—the tone, "I went through enough arsenal to get him to stay in the car."
Dad laughed. Again, "It's your talent, after all."
"What? Persuasion?" The woman didn't sound like she believed him, "Why would I choose something like that? Not like I'm supposed to do much talking anyway."
"I suppose not." But dad wasn't moving either—getting close to her. So maybe she was still a bad person?
I didn't think dad knew any bad people?
Then the woman sighed, "Though you're right—I am stuck with that practically useless ability." Dad opened his mouth again, "Yes it is useless, it hasn't done me any good in the long run, you know." She slipped the silver thing back in her pocket, "And don't even begin to say how useful it is—because—since when have I used it without orders?"
Dad closed his mouth.
And.
Silence.
"But he'll get impatient if I don't come back," the woman lowered her voice, touching her hair, "So I—just came here, instead of him. To give you some news."
Dad bowed his head. "And that would be?" rubbing his forehead, he wasn't looking at her again.
"You should know." She stepped forward a bit—I could see her lips now, a smile—"I had fun sending you text messages. Read them later. You'll learn lots."
"I'm sure I will." It sounded like it hurt to speak. Somehow. Or maybe dad's head hurt again.
"Tell your wife and kid I said hello, by the way," And the woman was turning back again—to hide under the shadows of the trees, "I might not get to come back again, after all."
"You're only visiting?"
"Only. Though," she hesitated, "That might not be permanent, if we can reach a cooperation."
Dad's eyebrow raised, "What kind?"
"A tactful agreement that won't lead to any direct bloodshed, of course." She didn't meant that. Laughter was there, in her voice. But…what was it? Dry? It didn't—she really didn't mean it.
"Direct?"
"Direct."
"Indirect?"
She turned a bit, and did a bow that would have been formal, but it didn't seem to be. Not when she did it. "If you'd be so inclined?"
Dad's face scrunched up immediately at that, "No."
"Then we'll see." She turned back around again, took two steps, then stopped, "Remember—I won't save your [-- -- --] again. So don't set yourself up even more than you already have."
She looked back over her shoulder one last time, and gave off a smile that looked so familiar that—
"Because you don't just have yourself to look over now, right?"
All dad could do was swallow. I could see it from here.
And she turned.
And began walking away.
To the sound of a cell phone ringing—
And to dad—who decided—just then—to look up.
I still didn't know. If he saw me.
-- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - - -- -- - -
He was giving me worried looks, every other second. And I was sitting up now, somehow. Because I recognized the voice on the other end of the line.
It had to be Allen.
He was leaving—to go see Allen. Did he really need to know exactly where the guy lived? No. No he didn't.
"You know fucking enough now. Hang up the damn fuckin' phone." The words slipped out. He looked—surprised?—and I had to wonder, did I say what I thought I did?
I did. I was sure of it.
"Now, now, I wouldn't do that," he had the nerve to try to scold me, and for a second I thought he meant it that way—but the look in his good eye, and the way he looked like he wanted to—what? Throw the phone across the damned room? What?—told me otherwise.
Like I gave a fuck.
He quickly pulled the phone back to his ear, whispering, hurriedly, "Listen, Allen, tell her to come by but I might take a…" he paused, and looked at me, "a few seconds, okay?"
I could have sworn I heard my name on the other line.
And then.
The pained look on Lavi's face. That changed—like a mask—to—to—worried, then, confidence, "If he isn't then he will be." he glanced at me, and suddenly I had this sickening feeling at the base of my stomach, "He's Yuu after all."
Yes I was.
And—
He hung up—
And—
Then he asked, "What the fuck Yuu?"
And—
I opened my mouth
And—
"Don't ever think I'm leaving you alone after this."
But—
It hurt him?
For the first time I could actually dammit read him.
Hurt.
"Cloud'll be here in a few minutes, maybe." He explained, not looking at me, "And you're coming with me."
I opened my mouth.
"Did I say I gave you an option?" Angry. Angry. What did I do?
I swallowed and felt myself—not nodding, but not saying 'no' either. And I noticed then, his sleeve rolled up, and the stitches that were there.
And I felt it—then—too
Because.
Because.
I couldn't ignore it anymore.
Dammit
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(1)- Almost forgot the note XD This is talking about the 'choking' scene back on...page 55 (um, not that that helps anyone, but I don't remember the chapter number...^^; ) It was in one of the first few chapters though, I believe. And it never fully got explained, so I'm doing the liberty now of explaining it...in a non obtrusive way. Not sure how well I did, though, but does it make a bit more sense now? -hopes it does-
Um, yay longer chapter? (15 pages-ish, I believe) but it was needed because I really didn't think I'd put in the Kanda-in-a-Yukata scene, but I decided to go for it. Not sure if it goes originally with what I had in my notes (hilarious how, I have in depth background notes for everyone in this plot line…EXCEPT Kanda), but I'm leaving it as is. Again—I don't expect for people to get Lavi's POV right off the bat but hopefully some things in Kanda's flashback will connect (um, HINT: Look up Hokori, what does it mean? –since that MIGHT help-) Though quite honestly...I really, REALLY dislike the end of this chapter. As in. Really. I've re-read it four times already and I STILL don't like it. -blinks- And I have no clue why...GAH X.x
And of course: Questions? Comments? Loved it? Have CC? (Why the heck do I keep updating so late?!) Send it via review! I'd love to hear from you!
-Till the next chapter (Polar and Livvy make an appearance again)
Harmony283
