Karma
Disclaimer: Well, Lavi does play around with ten-year-olds and then accuse Allen of lolicon. But no… he must love someone else…
The Tiki issue isn't resolved here, and Allen and Lenalee don't make appearances, so maybe there will be a short (?) sequel involving those two going off to look for Lavi, since he's acting like Cross and not contacting the Order.
Incidentally, I don't think any of you... or very few... are expecting this ending. Just a warning. :P
"Yeah, so I told th' wench that she can… she c'n…" The main trailed off into a drunken slur and reached for the new mug of ale that had appeared in front of him, courtesy of Lavi. The bookman merely plunked a few shiny coins down on the counter and nodded to the bartender.
"Do go on," he said with a wide, fake grin.
"…go t'hell, and…" The man was suddenly on his back, snoring loudly. With a sigh, Lavi slid off the stool and glanced at the face – yes, passed out, quite drunk. And he'd failed to learn about that mysterious woman he'd been trailing, too. It wasn't that he was interested in her for any romantic reason; many men had spoken of a mysterious woman who was followed by strange deaths, and the Order had immediately suspected akuma involvement. Why, he was not sure, but there were akuma that had remained after the Noah had been dispersed, so there was no reason to let down one's guard.
With a shrug, he turned and made his way to an empty table, intending to have a seat and read a good book before finding a nice, pretty young lady for the night. This pretty little English town seemed to have plenty of them.
He had just begun to read when the door swung open to admit a petite figure, clothed in a dark cloak, although bits of white cloth showed through when it moved. The hidden face scanned the room carefully. When it reached him, the figure jumped, looked shocked, and immediately made its way to his table.
Shit, he thought. What if it was some jealous boyfriend, or – worse yet – one of Kanda's hitmen?
Instead, the figure sat down and removed its hood calmly. He didn't know if he was relieved or worried to see the very familiar face gazing at him, with a determined look in those grey eyes that he had last seen with so much emotion.
"Nice to see you're doing well," he said, forcing a grin. It was a lie, of course – she had lost a considerable amount of weight, and he could see the bones in her hands clearly under the near-transparent skin – and it felt strange lying to her after he'd been so honest for so long.
"Same with you," she said quietly. There was a slight rasp in her voice; was she sick? It was raining outside.
"Would you like me to order something to eat?" he said quickly. "You look… well, you must've travelled a long way without any rest, or else you wouldn't look…" How should he say this politely? She seemed-
"Tired, I know. About the food – it's all right. I'm very hungry, but…" She suddenly looked thoughtful, then nodded. "No, maybe that would be the best thing."
"Sure." He waved to the bartender. "They serve excellent soup here; did you know that?"
After she had finished eating – and the amount had surprised him; had she not eaten in weeks? - he grinned lewdly at her. "So…" Well, this would spare him some effort – girls coming to find him instead! "Prepared for the… main course?"
He almost couldn't hide the surprise at her lack of response. "No thanks," she said, finally. "I need to… I could use some sleep, actually."
She did look tired, although he almost didn't bother to hide his disappointment – she was a beautiful woman, after all, with a nice figure. "I think there's an extra room upstairs – just go ask the bartender over there. His wife runs this place."
"Thanks." Her eyes remained on the empty dishes.
"What, are you still hungry?" When she shook her head, he sighed and picked up his book. "Well, I wasn't planning to stay here any longer – I've got to be on the next boat to Belgium. Don't forget to sleep."
"Wait." Why was this scene familiar, she wondered. Her fingers once again were reaching towards his coat as she begged him not to go. "I need to talk to you."
"Ahhh, fine. What is it now," he muttered, collapsing into the chair. "You're very talkative sometimes, you know?" He was teasing her; his face was grinning, but she wasn't in the mood for that kind of thing anymore.
"Things have… changed in the past four months," she told him. "Since you left-"
"Since you left," he corrected her in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Since I left. Lavi, that's not the point. I- I need to tell you something important."
"What, you don't want to stay with me, do you?" He gave her a long look. "I mean, the sex was great and all, but I don't know if I want to deal with those outbursts of emotion anymore. I mean, it's a hassle, you know?" He ran his hand through his red hair and shrugged.
"A hassle?" Her voice quivered with emotion. "That's all it was?"
"Well, sure. I mean, guys can't deal with those kinds of things. I still don't know how Allen managed to keep his sanity and his relationship when Lenalee was – well, you know… knocked up. I guess he just deals with women better than I do." He chuckled. "Popular guy – you liked him too, didn't you."
"That's not important." Her fingers clenched into a tight fist as her voice grew louder and more impatient. "Why did you think… Why did you think of Lenalee then?" She looked at him sadly. "Was it because you loved her?"
"What? He shook his head. "No, that's not it at all. She just… she's just one of the more emotional people I know, and she was particularly hard to deal with back then. That's all."
"Back then? When she was…"
"Pregnant, yes." He couldn't help the grimace that crossed his face. "Glad that wasn't me."
"Lavi." Her tone was sharp, but she knew that anyone could hear her pain. "I don't want to – I mean, if I had a choice, I wouldn't want to stay with you. I don't think I could endure that kind of pain again."
"Then don't." He gave her a long, slow, analyzing look. "If you don't want to stay with me, then why are you talking to me."
"Because I don't have a choice."
He shook his head, not understanding. "You don't have any money? Is that it? I'm sure there are places you could stay – no, I don't mean those," he added quickly, seeing the look on her face, "but… I don't know, I guess the Order would take you in or something, if you didn't mind the risk… or maybe being tortured."
"Didn't you need me, once," she whispered. "To learn about the Noah? I still know things; I could-"
"I learned everything I needed to," he said quietly.
So he used me and threw me away.
"Then… Lavi, I need you. It isn't for the emotion, or anything, but…"
"What?" He shook his head. "I already told you that you could go to the Order for shelter and food and all that. I'm not a source of free things, and you enjoy the sex too. No deal there, is there?"
"That's not… how can you be so stupid," she cried, banging a fist on the table. "I don't believe this! It isn't the money or anything, but don't you have any sense of responsibility?" She suddenly paused and burst into laughter, tears pouring down her face in a direct contrast to her voice. "No, of course you don't. You've said it was a hassle."
"Whatever. Look, I don't have time for this kind of thing. Maybe you had something to tell me, but you should've just told me directly. I gotta go." He pushed his chair back and stood up, not looking at her as he made his way to the door yet again. "That's all there is."
"Wait." But he didn't. "Lavi. Please." He was at the door, leaving again-
She had to tell him eventually, didn't she? After all, she'd been looking for him for months now just for that one thing, for the chance to stay with him again. She was right; she needed to.
"Didn't you think of what could happen after every night, for months?" she pleaded, eyes dry yet shining with desperation. "Lavi, you- I- I'm with child, damn it!" Her figure was trembling, and she suddenly realized she was standing in the middle of the room, cloak left on the chair. It was cold, in her thin white dress, that had gotten too tight and now had to stretch across her adult body. She was waiting for him to say something.
"What an inconvenience."
And he was gone.
Her legs finally gave out and she sank to the floor, his words echoing in her ears.
What an inconvenience.
Which was all she was to him. He'd taken her, captured her, and destroyed her – and she was nothing to him but a tiny annoyance.
What an inconvenience.
She didn't care that her dress was growing dark from the torrents that poured down onto the darkened material. She didn't care that her long hair was caught up in the flood, and was sticking to her face in strands.
All she could do was sit and stare at the space where he had been, and hear those words again and again.
What an inconvenience.
An inconvenience.
…inconvenience.
How could one not feel fragile and mortal, knowing that another life is so dependent on your own? Yet she had been that way before, controlling and playing, a child who carried such precious items in her hands and let them shatter.
It was when she first played with him that she had to realize the risks to her own existence. He had shown her death and ended the most dangerous kind of game. And then, years later, they had played again, with the same outcome. Only now, she had a life to protect, not end.
And how could a child who has played destructive games raise a child in a loving one?
No, this was not a game.
This wasn't a dream, either.
This was reality.
And although she was not alone, she had never felt more lonely in her entire life.
No, I don't love you.
The flames had departed and she was cold again.