Karma

Disclaimer: I should think there would be more mentions of her burning to death in here if I owned it.

Another short chapter. Apparently I kept writing "eyes" for Lavi so that needed lots of correction. The last part will need lots of revision, I think.

She awoke to an empty room, the bed covers neatly tucked in under her and looking completely fresh yet she had no doubt of what had been there before. The image was still fresh in her mind.

As she waited for the strength to return to her body, she felt strangely calm. He had been with another woman. He had not been shocked or upset to see her at all, or even happy. It was if he had not cared at all.

Well, and what? Had she really cared for him? Weren't they just using each other to satisfy their loneliness, without any real attachment…

He was using me too. That thought was a shock to her. No, it couldn't be true. She was the manipulator!

Yet… he had fooled her, before. Even now she remembered the cold steel through her ribs, the knife with which he had penetrated her body for the first time, five years ago… She pressed a hand to that spot, flinching with the memory of pain. That had been the first time, and every encounter afterwards with him had been no different…

The door swung open to reveal the innkeeper, a blonde woman just short of her middle years, and Lavi himself. She watched calmly as he flirted with the older woman – pinching her bottom, even – and the pair finally settled down on either side of her.

"Are you all right?" the older woman asked, a look of worry on her face.

"Fine." Her voice was cold. "Your inn's reputation shouldn't be damaged from this event." She couldn't help the slight ire that arose at the sudden look of relief on the woman's face. Was that all that the Frenchwoman was concerned about, after all?

It was then that he placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him.

"You just collapsed. What were you doing all night?" He looked more angry than worried.

"Nothing." Looking into his deep green eye, she felt safe again… and secure. No, he had abandoned her! Suddenly, she had to fight to hold back the tears, and her teeth bit down on her lower lip in that desperate fight. "I was just… out, that's all."

"With a man?" Amused, he looked amused!

"Does the sea count as a man?" He frowned at the sarcasm in her voice and removed his hand.

"That kind of tone doesn't suit you, Road. You're more open than that."

"And how would you know?" she demanded, the calm evaporating as her voice rose in pitch and volume. "You never even tried to learn about me! You proved that last night, didn't you – with that woman, that whore-"

"Oh, her?" He shrugged. "What about her? She's just a prostitute." He learned forward, mirth sparkling in his eye as he feigned shock. "Were you… jealous?"

"What- I… No, I wasn't!" The desperation in her voice was clear, and he burst out laughing. "Lavi, shut up and listen to me! Please!"

"I… I just can't believe it," he gasped, in between bouts of laughter. "Road Kamelot, the eldest child of the clan of Noah, is jealous, of a prostitute!"

"But she shared your bed, didn't she? As I… As… I…" She trailed off with the sudden realization. They had both done the same thing, hadn't they? They'd known of the dangers of sleeping with a strange man for their own gains, yet had done so anyway. They'd known nothing about him, not even his motives, yet they'd done so, knowing that there was another in his heart.

Lenalee… he had loved her, hadn't he? And Allen, too – whatever he might have said, she'd known that lost look when she'd taken his form and died. That had been the hardest thing for him. She knew the feeling – she'd felt it too, for both of them – but she'd used it to her advantage. And then those two must have run off together and he'd never been with either of them…

So he resorted to strange women to use and share his bed, and she was no different.

"I can't hate her," she finished slowly. "You used her as you used me. I can't like her, but how different are we."

"I remember," he murmured. "You've said that before."

I could never despise you.

Five years ago, she'd whispered those same words.

"I meant them." She turned her head upwards, meeting his gaze. "I meant them, then."

"And you still do now, don't you?"

There was a long silence before her hand finally moved to touch his. "Yes," she said quietly. "I do."

"Good." That same hand brushed hers aside and wiped a trickle of wetness from her face – she hadn't realized that she had been crying so hard until now, and suddenly she felt slightly cold. "Then let's go."

"Wait." Her hands reached to pull on his shirt. "Not yet…"

"Why?" He looked confused, then a look of understand dawned on his face. "Ahhhh, so that's it! You didn't get any last night, so you want it now, right?" There was a lewd grin on his face.

"I love you."

She gasped as the words slipped out of her mouth. Her hands, trembling, released him, and she leaned back slightly. The tears began to fall again, but she didn't care anymore.

"I love you," she whispered. "I really do."

And this was different from anything she had felt before – for her family, or for the two that she had cared most about, once. It made her feel weak, yet warm, and she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. It was… wonderful, she thought. And knowing that he cared for her, too – he'd come with the innkeeper to check if she was well –

"Cool." He had waved the innkeeper out and was already shrugging out of his shirt. "Take that off, will you?"

She did. Right now, she would do anything he said.

They made love on the bed that was still soiled from the previous night.

It felt like years later when he got up to dress himself, and she sat up, not bothering to cover herself, although her dress was in her hands again. He hadn't said anything since that time, but she hadn't paid attention. Now, the warmth and happiness was fading to a more contented feeling, and once again her mind failed to control the words that came from her.

"Do you love me?" She gave a lazy, contented smile, confident in his answer.

"No."

And, just like that, the smile disappeared and her world – metaphorically, this time – was destroyed.

"What?"

"No, I don't love you." He shrugged. "What does that matter? Come on, let's get going. I don't want to pay for another day in this place if we're not staying another night."

The dress fell to the floor as she stood up behind him, still naked and vulnerable.

"You don't care about me?"

He sighed irritably. "All these stupid questions… Well, I care what happens to you. You're human, aren't you? That's my duty."

"Oh."

"So get dressed and meet me downstairs, then."

Human. She was human.

She had always been human, but suddenly the force of the word hit her.

Human. Fragile. Vulnerable. Weak. Emotional.

Once, she had prided herself on being separate from them – a Noah, a kind of super-human who had complete and absolute power and control. And suddenly, that dream had crumbled when he had seen through her dream – manipulated her – and taken her life.

What was that old saying? Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

He had manipulated her, used her, and she had not complained. He had violated her, injured her body, and wounded her soul, yet captured her heart and toyed with it. And she had stayed. She had given it to him herself!

"I'm not coming," she whispered.

"What? Say that louder, I can't hear you." He didn't even pause at the doorway.

"I won't be coming with you anymore." Her voice was louder now, and she was sure that he could hear the pain in her voice – even the pounding of water as it hit the floor, falling from her eyes.

"Suit yourself. It doesn't matter to me-"

And he was gone.

And she was alone and exposed to the world, with nothing to protect her this time.

He had stolen her pride.

"Lavi?"

"Hm?" He turned his head slightly and looked at her. "What is it? Shouldn't you be asleep now?"

"Mm, yes, but…" Her finger started to trace circles lazily on his bare chest. "I like being awake."

"What, are you afraid that something will sneak up on you when you're not looking?" He chuckled. She glared at him and elbowed him playfully in the ribs – through his gasps of pain, the chuckles escalated to full-blown laughter.

When he had finally calmed down, she let out a long sigh. "Perhaps," she said finally. "I mean, there are lots of strange things out there – I know, I used to work with them! Who knows what kind of people or creatures could sneak in here at night, when we're sleeping and unaware."

His arm reached around her and tugged her closer, so that she was sprawled across his chest. "You don't have to be afraid of things," he explained. "I know how to fight, after all."


"But…" The worry was clear in her eyes. "You're a Bookman; you can't involve yourself in these things, right?"

"Yeah… but I can defend myself, and nothing is going to come in here and attack you and not me."

"Oh." She smiled into his tanned skin. "That's good, then."

"Yeah, so you can sleep now."

"…Lavi, does it hurt?"

He looked at her, surprised. "What?"

"Scars. I mean, they're all over your body. From when you fought akuma, and…" She trailed off, but they both knew how to finish the sentence: and fighting Noah.

"Not really." He shrugged. "Scars don't hurt anymore."

"Mine does." She turned to look at him. "Sometimes it hurts, a lot."

"Oh?" He sat up and pulled her away from him, slightly, so that he could look at the dark scar that sat cleanly in the middle of her body. "Well, that was a pretty bad wound, but it shouldn't hurt anymore."

"But it does." She didn't need to tell him how she got that scar; he knew perfectly well, and he knew that she wasn't blaming him for it anymore, either. "It still hurts, sometimes… when you're asleep, it wakes me up, and I'm just left there, to lie awake at night."

"Well… it shouldn't." He lay back, clearly intending to go to sleep. "That's not what you're worried about, is it?"

"No…" and she wasn't sure if she was lying or not. Did she really fear danger and betrayal from outside the room?

Or was she more concerned about the man lying next to her?