A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took a little longer to write. For while, I was just in one of those moods where I refused to write anything, and once I did start, the process was a bit slow-going. (As in, I wrote this chapter over the course of this past week.) Anyway, a big thanks to xenocanaan, Ennael, Red raspberries, Lena-luvs-cats, lizy2000, Guest, and PiaWithPie for all reviewing!(:

And in honor of the requests from xenocanaan, Ennael, and PiaWithPie, I present you with this chapter! Hope you all enjoy!^-^

Disclaimer: No!

Chapter 6

Time Frame — Morning of March 21st, 1890

—1st Person POV—

Another year had elapsed since I'd befriended the Bookman Junior. Other than exchanging letters with him and Anita, and convincing General Cross to visit other sites like I'd mention to Anita in a previous letter (so far, we'd lived in both Rome and Barcelona), nothing particularly significant had occurred. Just more gambling, battling Akuma, and escaping debt collectors; I had this lifestyle perfected down to a T. Even Neah hadn't so much as peeped an eye open (not that I was complaining). But it was once we returned to England that Cross and I had reached a relatively large township; we were ambling around, half patrolling, half seeking out an inn, when the General unexpectedly seized me and yanked us both into the shadows of an alleyway.

"It's more debt collectors, isn't it?!" I hissed, eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Really, Cross? I thought you said you hadn't ventured into this area for years!"

"It's not debt collectors, it's worse!" Cross groaned, hand rubbing at his face tiredly, curses being muttered under his breath. Curious, I edged forward (surprisingly, he didn't stop me), and peeked around the alley. My silver eyes roved along the semi-crowded roads, wondering what could have him even more freaked out than debt collectors. And it was once my eyes landed on them, that my hand flew up to muffle my laughter. Oh. My. Gosh.

"Okay, okay, I see your point," I conceded, my grin a little too wide. I was practically bubbling up with excitement! This was my chance! Ooh, this was going to be so good. "This is what we're going to do: I'm going to cause a distraction and point them in the opposite direction, and then you'll take your chance and run. We'll rendezvous at the next town, north of here. Sound good?"

"Yes, please," Cross instantly nodded in agreement, relieved.

I stepped forward, getting ready to venture into the mid-morning crowd and cause a scene. "Once they start running in the opposite direction, that'll be your cue!" I called, before casually strolling out, eyes keenly observing my surroundings. The duo I was meant to distract was on the other side of the street, hardly visible through the loitering townspeople. Good; this could possibly work. Readying myself, I took a few steps back—

Then launched myself through the crowds, roughly shoving aside anyone who got in my way, and generally attracting attention. Once I'd done so, I frantically began to shout, "Help! Help! Please! Someone!"

Hook, line, and sinker, I thought quite deviously, as General Tiedoll, and his 11-year-old apprentice, Kanda Yuu, swooped into the rescue. Without an ounce of shame, I threw myself at the Japanese boy, practically wailing. "Help! There are demons haunting the orphanage! I swear; you must believe me! Help me!"

"I would, if you'd just let go," Kanda snarled, viciously aiming to shake me off. But I held on like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

"No, Yuu!" General Tiedoll, ever the kind man, placed a hand upon each of our shoulders, gazing down at us with a grave expression. "You must watch the girl; I'll take care of it. My dear, where is the orphanage located?"

Forcing my eyes to tear up, I blubbered, "O-on the other side of town. B-but no one else will believe me!"

"Do not worry any longer. I shall take care of it!" the General declared with fervor, before hurrying off.

Ha! Sucker! I didn't even know if there was an orphanage in town. I'd sent the poor man on a wild goose chase! (I tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at me, excusing it with the fact that it was for a good cause! Or at least, that's what I fooled myself into believing…)

Keeping up the act of scared little girl, I gazed up at Kanda, my hands still gripping his arms with an unshakable force. "I-is he going to be okay?" I stammered, my grip tightening.

His slanted eyes narrowed further in annoyance, and he huffed, "Yes, and I'd make sure of it, if you released me."

"B-but… the man said you had to watch me," I remarked with a pout, before blowing out an irritated sigh of my own. So rather, I straightened up and began to drag him off. "Come on. I haven't had breakfast yet; let's get something to eat." Kanda's scowl deepened, but I was surprised to find that he didn't protest (maybe it had something to do with my iron grip). Impatient, I stopped at the nearest café and hauled him inside, where he reluctantly stayed put in the seat I'd shoved him into. "You want to get anything?" I asked, though I was right in my prediction when I noticed him simply glaring at me. I shrugged and said cheekily, "Suit yourself."

Throughout it all, he remained stubbornly silently. Even when I "accidentally" spilled water onto the poor kid. "You need to lighten up, dude," I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning back against my chair, stacks of plates with mere crumbs dusted upon them shoved to the side.

"Can I go now?" he demanded petulantly.

I was amazed he was even asking, but gladly took advantage of the fact. "Um, no. I need something first." If I weren't a girl, I'm sure he would have throttled me by now. As it was, he simply gritted his teeth; not that I took much note of it as I leaned over and dug through my satchel, until I triumphantly plucked out a crinkled envelope. Digging the letter out from within, my eyes darted over the blocky, concise words, "Hey, Yuu—"

"It's Kanda," he grounded out. I shrugged; it's what General Tiedoll had referred to him as. I wouldn't bring needless suspicion upon myself.

"Right, Kanda," I conceded with a pointed eye roll. "Anyway, do you know how…" I paused and glanced down at the letter, before picking up where I'd left off, "… the hierarchy at the Black Order works? I know that Central is supposed to act as the liaison between the Vatican and the Black Order through their ties with the Great Generals, but… who are the Great Generals? Ugh! Leave it to Lavi to ask all the hard questions!" My features curled into an ugly expression, irritation becoming visible.

Strangely enough, I found the chibi-fied Kanda currently gaping at me kind of adorable.

But Lavi would kill me if I didn't find an acceptable answer, so in spite of bringing him out of his stupor, I prompted Kanda, "Well?"

His mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "How do you know about us?"

"Funny, that's exactly what Lavi asked me when I first met him," I admitted with a laugh, quieting slightly when he glared once more. I huffed. "Chill. I'm an Exorcist too!" In order to prove it, I shook off my left glove and discreetly showed him the Innocence Crystal gleaming atop my hand, before snapping the fabric back on. "See?"

"Then why…?"

I shrugged. "I was just curious. I've never even been to the Black Order, let alone met any Exorcists my age!"—excluding Lavi—"So I sent the General you were with on a wild goose chase. I just wanted to meet you." I offered him my first, genuine smile. "You're pretty grumpy, but beggars can't be choosers~."

"… You do realize I am now obligated to bring you back to the Black Order?" Kanda replied, lips pursed.

My smile widened into a grin. "Can you keep a secret?" I didn't wait for his response before leaning forward and mock whispering, "I'm actually training under a General myself! And if you can believe it, it's General Cross!"

Kanda narrowed his eyes. "Impossible. General Cross hasn't reported to Headquarters in over two years. He's thought to be dead."

Huh. That was around the time I began to travel with him… I shrugged. "Well, it's true. But you can't tell anyone about us, okay?"

"And why should I keep it a secret?" Kanda demanded.

I tossed him an unimpressed gaze. "… And why on earth would you want to rat me out to any of the assholes at the Black Order…?"

"… Good point," he grumbled.

"Aha! I knew this would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!" I beamed. "… Then again, that's what I said about Lavi, but he still refuses to acknowledge any sort of attachment between us. That inconsiderate little—"

"Who's Lavi?" Kanda demanded.

"Huh? Oh, I'm sure you'll eventually meet him down the road! Speaking of which, you never did answer my question," I pointed out, and then repeated it when all I received was a blank stare.

"The Great Generals?" Kanda repeated, eyebrows raised, before his expression shifted back into its irritated state. "Oh. That's classified."

"Eh?!"

"As far as I know, only the Supervisor knows anything about them," Kanda elaborated, seemingly bored and displeased all in one.

"Well that's crap," I muttered under my breath, before conveniently catching sight of General Tiedoll ambling further down the street (it was for this reason that I'd sat near the windows). "Uh oh! That's my cue to leave!" Before anything else could be said, I snatched my stuff and hurried towards the back door, ignoring the workers' protests.

"Oi, beanspout! What about the bill?!" Kanda shouted after me.

"Thanks for offering! You're such a good friend!" I called back cheekily, before I stumbled out into the alleyway beside the café, the door shutting and taking all its noise with it.

And was I ashamed of picking up on Cross' habit of acquiring debts?

Not at all.

Time Frame — Night of June 15th, 1890

"Whoa, it's been a while," I murmured to myself, rubbing at my eyes and trying to orientate myself, rising onto unsteady legs. Once I was able to relax, I regarded my surroundings, taking note that nothing had changed since I'd last been here. The sky was still a stunning navy blue with smatterings of stars hemming along the enormous waning moon; snow still drifted gently along, landing among the pale, gaunt trees and brick path; and the lake… I frowned slightly, leaning closer and keenly observing the additional threads of color weaving throughout the still waters. There were a lot more than the last time I'd been here, but still insufficient enough to create a whole picture.

I took a step back. "Better not to dwell on it," I muttered, turning my back on the waters, trying to shake off the horrid images that Allen himself had been forced to witness on that lake. All I could do was pray that it wouldn't be the same for me. So I began to walk down the brick path, straightening my clothes and hair (rather than the scruffy clothes that'd been conjured with me the first time around, I now appeared to be clothed in my favorite blouse and trousers, along with my gloves and bulky boots).

And rather than coming across a comatose Neah, it appeared that for once, he was the one awake and awaiting my presence. "It was about time," I muttered under my breath, and offered him a curious gaze as I strolled forward, coming to a stop before him. But… he seemed frozen in some sort of stunned stupor. (I ignored the temptation of snapping my fingers in his face.) His sunlit eyes were locked onto me, unmoving, and it was beginning to make me slightly nervous. I fidgeted slightly, and tucked an annoying, errant strand of hair behind my ear (by now, my hair had grown ridiculously long).

"What?!" I finally snapped, my irritation getting the better of me.

Neah blinked, as if abruptly shaken from his thoughts. "Um, Allen, why do you look like a girl…?"

"Um, what…?" I blinked. I guess the blouse and long hair were kind of girly, but… "I am a girl."

He blinked. I blinked. Which was followed by a staring contest. He ended up blinking first. (Ha!) With a huff, I crossed my arms and quirked and eyebrow. "Is there a problem with this? Haven't I always been a girl?" (Obviously I knew the answer to that, but that hadn't been me, so I sure as heck wasn't going to pretend I'd been a boy at any point in my life.)

Unlike Cross, he was rather blunt when he blandly retorted, "No."

(Well, that had been unexpected.)

"Oh…" What was I supposed to say to that? So, I just shrugged and remarked with a snort, "Pfft, I gave that up years ago, so don't expect me to apologize."

Neah went bug-eyed.

I held my hands up in a placating manner. "Joking! Seriously, I have no recollection of ever being male, so please, can we just pretend that was never me?" I pleaded, gaze slightly desperate.

Appearing uncomfortable, he nodded stiffly, avoiding my gaze. "Fine." In fact, he avoided even looking in my general direction… Was the idea really so bad? Cross hadn't reacted that badly! It's not like Neah had to—

It was my turn to go bug-eyed. "O-oh," I squeaked, frozen with the sudden realization that… that… "I-I'm sorry…?" I stammered, confused as to whether I should be apologizing. "Um, I mean, not that I would change anything about myself, but um, you know, I didn't think about the fact that you, erm…" I trailed off awkwardly, hands fidgety and rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. Neah nodded stiffly in return, and I blurted out, "Sorry for making you uncomfortable!"

Because I'd forgotten that Neah (who I'm pretty sure still had a male mindset) would have no choice but to take over my body, which was of the female variety… oops…

"Um, just don't be a pervert about it, okay?" I added with a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of my head.

"E-excuse me?!" Neah demanded, head whirling back to face me, amber eyes smoldering and heated with anger. "Who do you take me for?! Cross?!"

"Eww," I wrinkled my nose, and defensively retorted, "It's not like I remember anything about you, okay?! All I see is a 16-year-old boy! Can you blame me for wanting to set up some boundaries? And yes, I know I don't have anything going for me at the moment," I indicated my flat chest, and continued, "But I'm only eight at this point! I'll get older, and when the time comes…" I trailed off uncertainly, trying to hold back a shudder.

Neah turned a bit green. "Ugh, after this conversation, whatever desire I had of completely taking over your body has been officially crushed."

My eyes narrowed into a pointed glare, arms crossing and posture becoming rigid. "… I thought you said you were willing to go along with our plans…"

Neah wilted into the personification of his weary thoughts, and if it weren't for the (now brittle) chains still binding him down, I was sure he'd be rubbing at his face tiredly. "It's not that simple," he admitted quietly, "I've recollected most of my memories." His eyes darkened, narrowing into a sinister gaze. I glanced away apprehensively, but he didn't take much note as he continued, "The rage is almost all-consuming, and if it continues as so, I may just lose all self-control."

My mouth suddenly felt dry. Licking my lips, I stammered, "I-I see."

"But," he muttered, head hanging, exhausted, "And no offense, but I'm repulsed at the idea of possessing a different gendered body. Of course, it doesn't soothe my fury. It's just another addition to the list of reasons why I need to oppress this anger."

I frowned, and cleared my throat before replying, "I'm no expert, but you're probably going about this the wrong way. Oppressing your anger… that only guarantees the eventual detonation of your rage, and when that happens, not a single shred of control will remain…"

"And? What do you suggest?" Neah asked dryly.

"Be rational," I stated simply after a moment of thought, and then elaborated, "Think of every single reason as to why you need to wait. No matter how small or insignificant it may seem, just keep piling them on. And go over them; again and again. Don't forget a single reason, especially the closer we get to the deadline. Think of true and reasonable arguments that will hold you back. But only doing that won't abate your anger; so use it as a fuel. Be wise and plan how you can successfully reach your goals. Just… don't be stupid." I smiled sheepishly. My speech had started out pretty well, though it ended weak and kind of blunt. Oh well, I tried.

Fortunately, Neah nodded in agreement, expression thoughtful. "Yes… I think I could try that."

"Awesome," I beamed, giving him a thumbs up. "Anyway, it was you who called me here, right? What is it you originally needed to discuss?"

Caught off guard, Neah blinked and nodded. "Right, I'd almost forgotten," he muttered to himself, before shaking his head. "Sorry, everything's been kind of hazy and I was trying to figure out when it was the last time you'd been here?"

"Oh? Is that all?" I shrugged. "It's been like two years, I think."

"T-two years?! I haven't woken up in that long?!" he demanded, a little freaked out.

"Um, I don't think your recovery is anything to joke about. Waking you up the first time around may have sped it up, but that's only because I made you aware of it. Forcing your continued awakenings afterwards must have seriously worn you out because I haven't heard anything from you in these past few years. I did think about trying to wake you up at times, but Cross warned me against it," I explained patiently.

"And I'm still incredibly exhausted," Neah admitted with a sigh. "Before I'm out of it once more, can you at least tell me what Cross and you are planning concerning the Noah?"

I tilted my head in thought. "Actually, we haven't discussed it in quite a while… But I'll skim on the details for now. Basically, once I'm forced to go through the Noah transformation, Mana will know you've awakened within me. Cross will start out by erecting a magyk barrier around me, to at least keep him in the dark for a good while, but since he can't keep me hidden forever, he's choosing to take advantage of it and just have me infiltrate the Noah."

Neah grimaced. "I see."

I cringed slightly. "Yeah, don't think I'm so excited about it myself, but we don't really have much of a choice. Eventually though, Cross wants me to fake my death to escape without too much collateral damage."

At this point, Neah's features had frozen into a deadpanned expression. "Is that a joke?" I shook my head. "Oh hell! I know Cross isn't this stupid! He should know that faking a Noah's death is impossible! We all have a connection to each member of the Clan that can only be severed by death!"

With a frown, I briefly recalled the tears shed by Road and the others when Skinn had been killed. "You're right… Do you think Cross could somehow fake a severed connection with his voodoo crap?"

Neah snorted. "Who knows, but I wouldn't put it past him."

I offered him a weak smile. "Heh, yeah…" And as an afterthought, I added, "I mean, the man's practically immortalized himself with the stuff. He can do about anything else… right?"

The Noah's lackluster expression was hardly reassuring.

Time Frame — Morning of July 8th, 1890

"Hey, Cross," I piped up, leaning around his shoulder as I asked, "Can we make a quick detour to the post office?" I was forced to ask this because it wasn't by my own two legs that I was making headway; basically, Cross was giving me a piggyback ride. We were just returning to the inn from a grueling training session, and though I normally escaped these endeavors with a good number of bruises and scrapes, this time, I'd been a little too reckless, which had resulted in a sprained ankle. By all accounts, I was lucky I hadn't broken anything.

"Hm, you think Anita's written already?" Cross remarked, though he didn't wait for my response as he abruptly turned to backtrack to where the post office was.

I nodded against his shoulder. "Among others." Now that I thought about it, I'd never really told Cross about writing to Lavi, even though it'd been over a year since we'd begun to correspond. Most of my encounters with Cross consisted of the occasional training session and me nagging him about his drunken behaviors. From the hazy memories of my previous life, I was completely positive that I'd never had to deal with a drunk before, and I hated having to put up with it. And it certainly didn't make him anymore agreeable when he tried bringing women into our room and I'd instantly kick them out. (I wouldn't be surprised if he secretly hated me, but I was having none of it.)

Unexpectedly, it wasn't two letters that were found under my name, but three! Greedily, I snatched them from Cross' hand before he could even think to glance at them, and shifting through them, I found that one of them was from Kanda, much to my delight. "He actually wrote back!" I squealed. (A similar reaction to the one I'd had when I received my first letter from Lavi.)

Impatiently, I dug his letter out and predictably, it wasn't too wordy, but it was something. His letter appeared as this:

Beansprout,

Lenalee found your letter after snooping through my belongings, and forced me to write a reply. I don't do letters, but she's currently standing over my shoulder with a mean glare. Anyhow, I expect a repayment for your ridiculous eating habits. And Lenalee is making me write that I am doing just fine and look forward to your reply, even though I truly don't.

Please keep your friendship to yourself,
Kanda

P.S. Hello! This is Lenalee! Sorry about Kanda's grouchy nature, but please don't let it offend you. You sound like an amazing friend, and I believe Kanda needs more people like you in his life. Please write back! And thank you!

I smothered a laugh, pleased that Lenalee had meddled. Now I could just double dip and write to the both of them! Oh, this would be so fun!

"Who's Ezra?" Cross suddenly broke through my thoughts with his demand.

"Eh?" I blinked up, and belatedly noticed that he'd released my uninjured leg in order to snatch my other two letters up. (With him giving me a piggyback ride, and me using one hand to read through Kanda's letter, it would have been easy for him to seize the other two letters clasped within my other hand, as that arm had been wrapped around his neck.) After a moment of thought, I bluntly replied, "Oh? You must mean Lavi. He's a Bookman Apprentice, so he's always going around changing names, and that's probably his current one." If I remembered correctly, so far he'd gone from Luke to Hanon to Asher. And now, he was Ezra.

"A Bookman, huh? Where'd you come across one of those?" the General inquired curiously.

With a slight shrug, I explained, "Saved him from a Level 1 Akuma one night, over a year ago. He managed to track me down and demanded an explanation, and since I figured the Clan had already been involved in the last Holy War, it wouldn't hurt to tell him about our affairs considering they probably already have it archived. But then, typical Bookman style, he tried getting into detail, so I just coerced him into exchanging letters with me."

"How come you never made mention of this before?" he asked.

"Never really thought to, since it was more of a personal experiment of mine," I answered briefly with a sheepish smile.

Cross hummed in reply and then requested, "Mind if I read it?"

"Sure, I can read it over your shoulder!" I nodded, moving to lean around his shoulder once more. Lavi's letter read as this:

Shortstack,

Long time no write! As you might've been able to tell by the new name and return address, the old panda and I have moved on to recording a new war. And as far as wars go, this one is pretty pathetic. Really, it shouldn't really even be considered as such, but we're still required to do the recordings for the Clan. Anyway, we're currently in Egypt; the British troops are occupying Cairo and turning Egypt into a British "protectorate". Yeah right, tell that to the raging natives. But I guess it doesn't matter, I'm just an observer.

Speaking of which, I don't believe we'll ever be of the same opinion. But if it makes you feel better, I'm sure most would admire this silly, martyr complex you appear to have. And don't deny it. This whole needing to safe those around you vibe you've got going on practically stamps you down as an eventual martyr. And let me be frank with you when I say that I've seen enough of those to lose count (not that I have lost count; what kind of Bookman would that make me?). But to the point: they've all ended up dead. Every single one them. (Which in retrospect, should be quite obvious because by definition, death is how they officially become a martyr.) I'd say that I'm telling you to quit it with these ideals out of the goodness of my heart, but I'm not. It's just logic. (You should know by now that I am not allowed attachments.)

In any case, I'm getting slightly desperate to return to the Bookman Clan Headquarters, but we're not due to check in for another couple months. It seems lately you've been having more and more trouble answering some of my questions. No offense, you've been very helpful, but knowing how the Bookman are about detail, I'm sure I can find some of those answers in the archives. I don't think I've ever been introduced to such an intricate and horrific war! Not that humans can't already be despicable on their own, but with the added capabilities of magyk and supernatural powers, it's just reached a whole new level. I'm shocked this war can even be held in such secrecy.

I feel as if I've exhausted you out of all the information you posses, but I still can't help but continue to discuss more of my questions. One in particular that I've been contemplating lately is the creation behind Akuma. I know you already went into intricate detail of how the process goes, but I want to know of the science (or in this case, dark magyk) that goes behind it all. I recall you once mentioning the Akuma Egg Plant, but how does it all correlate? Is this where all the framework skeletons of the Akuma are made? But why eggs? Or am I taking this too literal? Or is this where the Earl designs how Akuma level up? I feel as if there's more to it than simply killing many people to reach a new level. Hell, for all we know they harvest the souls of the people they kill!

(Maybe you could try asking that General of yours?)

Still not your friend,
Book-Boy

I huffed and rolled my eyes. Lavi always signed his letters that way. (I was planning on breaking him out of that stupid habit one day!) But now reading it, I was itching to grab a pen and form my response. It always felt this way with him, not only because of all the interesting questions he brought up, but mostly because of our clashing view points. I was determined in proving him wrong, though part of me wondered why I even had a right to effectively try and ruin the attitude required for his career.

"Hm, interesting brat, but predictable for a Bookman," Cross huffed.

I pursed my lips. "Yeah, tell me about it."

A/N: Heh, well that was fun to write! Hope you guys liked it! And don't worry, Lavi will eventually warm up to her (if he hasn't already done so secretly). Anyway, I actually didn't get to write everything I wanted to include in this chapter. A week ago, there was this whole conversation I wrote between Allen and Cross and it was so good! Unfortunately, I wrote it in my head. Right before I went to sleep. Predictably, I forgot most of it! -_-" *cries* But if I manage (by some miracle) to remember any of it, I'll try to include it in the next chapter!

Speaking of the next chapter, it shall move onto yet another time skip! And actually, it shall be the last chapter before I move onto the Noah. Which that in itself should be interesting. Unfortunately, that also means I have nothing left of my outline, as I've reached the point where I've run out of specific ideas. Here's to hoping I still have a shred of imagination left for this fandom…

Anyway, please don't forget to review!

P.S. No, I haven't forgotten about the white hair and the scar! That shall come in later!(;