Long chapter. They just write themselves, I swear... I tried my best to find a point where I could split the chapter, but it's really just one entire scene.
Word count: 8,514
The Quiet Earth
Chapter 1.2
Three and a half hours later, the towering walls of Vistenarum's capital rolled into view. The lofty walls rose overhead like a stony white wave, encircling the small city of Corterram.
The train slowly approached the station situated a short distance outside of the Southwest Gate. It would be here where everyone alighted, before the train curved right and began its journey southwards, along the south main road, eventually looping back to Port Haven.
To their left spanned a wide dual carriageway where carts, stagecoaches and sometimes people travelled in and out of the city. The massive city gates had been flung wide open, revealing homely architecture of earthy-hued bricked houses and shops. A grey mosaic of cobblestones led further inwards, a straight path to the capital's heart – the plaza.
Lavi couldn't help but sit up, shaking off the hours-long stupor of the train ride to observe the sights with swelling excitement.
Home... at last.
They alighted and proceeded to the nearest coaching inn to hail a ride to the First District – a massive compound situated on the most north-eastern corner of the capital, where all state matters were handled by the Council, the elected ruling party.
The entirety of the First District was lined with a thick perimeter of stone wall, painstakingly built with unevenly sized but cleanly-cut granite blocks of varying stony colours, approximately half a metre tall. Atop this solid foundation were spiked metal fences painted matte black, interspersed with sturdy granite pillars that held it all together. It took a few short minutes before their carriage rattled to a stop before tall metal gates of a similar design.
"Halt!" Called a voice and its owner stepped out from the guardhouse that watched over the district's main entrance.
Bookman was taking his time. But Lavi had immediately hopped off the vehicle, already in the process of lugging their suitcases through the side gate meant for visitors.
At the sound of the voice, he turned to see a young man with light brown hair and eyes, dressed in grey military ensemble. His confused frown deepened as his gaze was drawn to where the soldier's hand rested on the hilt of a sword slung by his hip.
"Sirs, if you would kindly present your identifications."
Lavi blinked. "Identification? But you – urgh." He stumbled backwards as bony fingers unceremoniously pulled him out of the entrance. Bookman wielded a identification card in his other hand.
The soldier courteously received the metal card handed to him. "Good day, Mr Bookman."
To Lavi he added, "Sorry Lavi. It's just protocol."
Somewhat flummoxed, Lavi flashed a quick smile as he set aside their belongings and began digging out his own. "That's alright, Stefan. It's good to see you again! You're on guard duty now, huh? How's the family? And what protocol? What did you do?"
Stefan diligently browsed over the card with an electronic device that Lavi knew to be one of Komui's inventions, an ingenious little thing that read codes... or something. He never really delved into its workings, despite the numerous times Komui numbed his ears raving about it instead of letting him work in peace.
The head scientist seemed to confuse 'photographic memory' with 'instant grasp of any concept'. Lavi could remember details accurately – it definitely didn't mean he would understand them immediately.
"Ugh, you act as though Daisya isn't the mastermind for every unfortunate event out there. I'm innocent, I swear," Stefan laughed. "Family's doing good... for once. Brother is doing better now that I'm able to help financially with Jaime's treatment."
"And about this..." The man sighed, waggling the device slightly in his annoyance. "It's the damned rebels again. They've targeted government personnel lately, and the Council is not happy about it. Newest orders make it mandatory for everyone to show their ID if they intend to enter the First District."
Lavi frowned. "I hope nobody got hurt."
"We had a sage with that particular squad, luckily. I heard the rebels wised up quick once they realised."
Nodding in relief, Lavi handed his ID over. Stefan sidled closer while working the device, surreptitiously glancing around before leaning in a little.
"There's... rumours about the rebels too. At least within our district."
Lavi raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
There was a glimmer of unease within Stefan's eyes as he revealed, "There's... talk about someone leaking confidential information to the rebels."
This was some spicy rumour, and very alarming if true.
"Someone from the inside," Stefan stressed in hushed tones. "Apparently the rebels have ambushed every ardeifact transport in the past year – well there have only been two, but..."
That the rebels knew any detail about a transport schedule meant there was very likely a serious security breach, somewhere in the highest ranks.
The time and location of any run were always firmly kept under wraps. Only the Council and top officials, including some department heads, would be privy to that type of knowledge. The soldiers selected to escort the transport and its payment were carefully chosen and wouldn't be informed of its time and location until an hour or so before.
For a ragtag group of dissidents to successfully pinpoint a transport not just once, but twice? It seemed impossible – unless they had help.
It wasn't so much the risk of losing ardeifacts to rebels – as far as anyone knew, none of the rebels were sages and had not any use for ardeifacts. It seemed unlikely they would be stealing to sell to other sages either, for the rebels saw the existence of Naturology as a threat. They openly despised and protested the alliance Vistenarum had with their neighbour, Isfelta – the country's sole provider of said ardeifacts.
No, the risk lay within the ramifications of harbouring a traitor within the highest levels of government.
Lavi stole a glance back at his mentor, who seemed oddly patient, taking his time to put his card away. Was this particular incident knowledge that Bookman wanted him to be aware of, but for some reason wasn't at liberty to divulge? Did Bookman bet on the possibility of gossip?
He transferred his attention back to Stefan. "Earlier when you mentioned government personnel..."
"Since the first ambush, they've started putting General-sages on escort duty," Stefan replied in the same furtive manner. "Anyone with eyes could tell they were up against a damn General... Right? But the rebels still attacked anyways. How desperate can they be?"
Lavi took a few seconds to consider all the information, then sighed and shook his head. "There's no telling if those rumours are true, much less who it could be. Us rookies couldn't even begin to start figuring this kind of shit out." He angled a sharp gaze over deceptively light words. "And I'm sure you know what the army thinks about spreading rumours like that. It'd be nothing but janitor duty for you!"
Stefan didn't laugh, instead he wore a morose look as he finally handed Lavi's ID back. "I know, I know. I'm sorry for springing this on you when you've just got back. I'm worried about my brother... The sooner they deal with this, the less he'll have to deal with those rebels. Not to mention other shady organisations with an eye on our trade routes as usual."
Perhaps Stefan hoped the gossip could help bring greater awareness to this dangerous situation, an attempt at stirring up some support in one of the few ways a common citizen could. Word on the street spread faster than summer fire, and public outrage could spur government action as quickly.
In a sympathetic voice, Lavi asked, "Was Suman on escort duty at the time?"
Stefan shook his head with a slight grimace. "No, fortunately not. But who knows when he might be... and if the next time isn't just some dumb rebels."
Lavi bumped their shoulders together in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Suman has been a sage forever, he's more than capable. What will those rebels even do? Run off at the first sight of a sage again? You remember to take care of yourself out here, yeah? And make sure no rebel sneaks past you, because if I find any of my art —" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "—missing, you'll be the first person I'm chasing down!"
Stefan chuckled, seeming as though some tension had left his body. "You won't have to worry about that, we hold art in the highest regard around here." He patted Lavi on the shoulder with mock seriousness before turning to address Bookman directly, his voice resuming normal levels and taking on a respectful air. "Mr Bookman, thank you for your cooperation and patience. Your identification all seems in order, you're both free to enter."
Bookman nodded once at the man, then at Lavi, signalling that his duties as his master's personal porter had begun once again.
Lavi heaved up luggage as heavy as the sigh he expelled. With a last brief smile back at Stefan, he followed the old man past the district gates.
A flicker of movement to his left caught Lavi's attention and he turned his head slightly to see a soldier, almost hidden by dappled shadows underneath a tree. At their boots sat a large dog, whose ears were pricked, eyes alert and gleaming softly at him in the sun.
Lavi knew better than to call out or stare, but he was still surprised to already see another guard, and this close to the main gates. It seemed that the Council was taking the rebel threat quite seriously this time around.
The First District functioned as the hub for most government agencies and hosted top-level political events. Thus, it came as no surprise that only authorised personnel could enter the area.
As if the tall, spiked walls weren't forbidding enough, each entrance was fortified with a guardhouse. Additionally, trusted members from the National Guard – the core and most heavily trained contingent of the army – patrolled the grounds in pairs at all times of the day.
No doubt the pair he just saw belonged to them. Often, they were accompanied by their four-legged buddies, muscular but stream-lined Dobermanns, the army's favoured guard dog of choice. It was all very strict and proper.
Lavi had learnt very quickly that these dogs meant serious business while on duty. They were majestic beasts with impeccable discipline, but off the leash they loved scritches behind the ears and would gladly show their bellies for some puppy treats – so long as they recognised you as part of the 'pack'.
Employing a steady pace, Lavi and Bookman traversed the sidewalk that followed the dual-lane driveway to their left, venturing deeper into the district.
After a minute of walking, the road curved into a roundabout before leading back to the main gates. At the north-eastern tip of the roundabout was a large, open stone archway, artfully covered with creeping vines and flowers, and flanked by a row of tall hedges.
Lavi knew what they would find ahead – the centre of the district.
A picturesque courtyard, the size of a football field, occupied the space. Prettily decorated with enigmatic statues and well-kept flora along neat, wide flagstone pathways. Large, wide buildings lined its perimeter and beyond, each housing different government departments. In the middle of the courtyard was a grand, white-marbled fountain that splashed all day.
During Lavi's first year in the district he would frequently cross through this courtyard and bask in its serenity. Today passed no differently. He soaked in the cool breeze and lilting birdsong under the warm sun, enjoying the feeling of home.
It was late into a balmy Saturday morning, and most people were sleeping in or out and about. The courtyard remained mostly empty except for a few making their way to another destination. Not everyone was fortunate enough to be free from work responsibilities during the weekend; a tragedy he was well-acquainted with.
Lavi wondered where his friends would be presently. Perhaps in their dormitories still, taking advantage of their month-long break before their results were announced.
Halfway across the courtyard, Bookman paused. Naturally Lavi halted as well and looked questioningly at the other man, who seemed distracted as he retrieved his luggage from Lavi's hands. He readjusted his grip on his belongings as Bookman said, "I have matters to attend to. Take the rest of the day off."
And Bookman was gone.
Lavi didn't need to be told twice. His luggage weighed lighter than usual, thudding lightly again his leg as he took happy strides. Once he had his belongings put away, he could search for his friends. He cut north, past the main government buildings and through a grassy field towards earthy brick walls.
The dormitories occupied one long end of the all-purpose field and rose four storeys tall, built to provide sufficient lodging for the average yearly intake. As such, everyone had their very own compact but cosy bedroom with enough space to fit several key furniture. Last but not least, large windows that purposed a viewing space between the bed and desk, providing a lovely view of the city and its park behind the district walls.
This was the standard layout for all dormitory rooms, as Lavi found out when walking past open doors and stealing a glimpse.
But that wasn't all the dorm residents were spoiled with. The ground floor hosted a shared kitchen and communal bathrooms at opposite ends. In between the two amenities nestled a comfortably sized lobby which additionally doubled as a community space. Furnished with plush settees and potted plants flanking three-quarter windows that allowed an abundance of daylight in.
Lavi had spent many happy hours here, lounging around or chatting with friends.
The First District felt like the only 'proper' home Lavi really knew, and he couldn't wait to sink into his own bed after a whole year of being away. To wake at dawn to pale morning light and fresh, temperate air, before spending the rest of his day attending to his responsibilities or mingling with friends.
Simple joys and curated paths. Nothing personally ostentatious, even considering his prestigious role as Bookman's head apprentice.
Yet, if Lavi were to confront his inner thoughts honestly, he realised that spending the past year learning about what his career will require of him at the bureaucratic level didn't stir his enthusiasm one bit.
Reading and learning about the past was one of the few joys he had in his life. There existed a sort of certainty in knowing how the past influenced the future, how a situation panned out, or how a person came to be. A sense of assurance in the fact that the past was unchangeable and undeniable. It felt satisfying to piece fragments together to reveal the whole truth.
He was master over these little pockets of time, with a straight-forward rule of guidance: everything to ever happen was carved into stone – one only had to decipher it.
Lavi's career would gain him access to the knowledge locked behind doors. The higher he climbed, the more keys he obtained. But it came with a price. The question being, was it a small one to pay?
He envisioned himself in Bookman's position. Sitting behind a desk in his future workspace, handling stacks upon stacks of books and papers that came bundled with a slew of regulations and niceties. Bound to expectations of a level of decorum that he would have no choice but to partake in, to get his job done. Every day like clockwork. A little cog in the system with its hands out, waiting desperately for the next crumb of reward to fall into them, so long it kept cranking to the rhythm demanded of it.
Unfortunately, no matter how much he raked his brains in an attempt to calculate the possibilities, this was a question only the future could answer.
Not for the first time, Lavi found himself wishing he could pick a book up and read all about it, rather than to be here – forever peering through a hazy window into his nebulous future.
With brooding thoughts swirling in his head, it was in an absent-minded manner that he pushed the dorm's wide, french doors open with his shoulder and felt his soul leave his body as a chorus of voices hit him with a deafening—
"WELCOME HOME!"
Lavi barely had time to drop his luggage before catching the warm body barrelling into him, filling his vision with black hair. Looking over the top of their head, he saw familiar faces beaming back at him.
One corner of the lobby was decorated with a colourful bunch of streamers and banners with a variation of 'welcome back' messages handwritten on them, embellished with random art and doodles. A particularly eye-catching banner depicted his grinning face in a stereotypical and comically large pirate hat to complement his eyepatch, with a speech bubble above his head that said: 'Land ahoy!'
Komui Lee, head of the Department of Science, fought to pull his younger sister off her victim. Normally a laidback individual, it was rather amusing to witness him try and fail to not scowl at the unsuspecting young redhead. The surprisingly strong arms around Lavi's waist squeezed a little harder before they finally retracted.
"Lena, let him breathe."
"I should have listened to that fortune teller," Lavi said as he clutched at his chest in feigned regret. "Beware the phantom of one's past at yonder shore, they said."
Lenalee imparted a small slap to his shoulder, her twin ponytails swishing slightly with the motion. "Hush, you idiot. We were so worried! The papers were talking about bigger storms this week in the Pearlia Ocean. We had zero news and the bad weather only delayed all avenues of communication—"
Lavi pulled her into a quick hug to soothe her ruffled feathers, then chuckled a little nervously as her brother eyeballed his move. He quickly stepped back then imitated a small bow. "It would have been an honour to perish by your concern, m'lady."
Lenalee threw him another slap as they parted, a softer one this time, but her gentle smile told him he was forgiven.
"Welcome home, Lavi."
Komui's usually jovial personality remained stuck in overprotective brother mode, causing his greeting to sound more perfunctory than anything.
"Thank you, Professor Lee," Lavi smiled as warmly as he could, hoping to phase himself off the man's radar.
"Group hug!" A voice cried suddenly as a third party barrelled in. Two strong arms crushed them together again.
Lenalee struggled to free herself. "Allen! Not in front of brother," she hissed under her breath, staring daggers at the boy who had just bounded up without a care in the world.
Sure enough, Komui's glare burned with an intensity reminiscent of his sibling's. The heat had shifted from Lavi for now, but Allen remained unfazed by the twin Lee glare. His messy white hair flopped around as he bounced happily on his feet, jostling his unwitting victims around with him as they sputtered.
Silvery eyes twinkled as Allen said, low enough for just them to hear, "At least it wouldn't be entirely unfounded if directed at me." But he complied, releasing them both and stepping back.
" Allen Walker! "
"Brother, no! Lavi's just got home, please don't make a fuss here. Come on —"
Ever her brother's keeper, Lenalee held Komui back, managing to appear simultaneously embarrassed and accusatory.
Lavi straightened himself, smiling and shaking his head, trying to catch his breath even as his mind pondered Allen's words. He stood close enough to observe a slight flush on Lenalee's face before she turned, trying to usher her seething sibling away.
With the bickering trio vacated, more people began approaching him, clapping his back or shoulders, talking to him and presenting welcoming gifts. Despite still being a little shell-shocked from the unexpected Lenalee cannonball, Lavi couldn't stop a huge smile from forming as he greeted his friends and returned fist bumps and hugs.
Soon enough his arms were piled with gift boxes, and he had to put them away on the nearest table. Familiar faces and smiles surrounded him like a warm hug.
Truly, nothing felt like home if not for the people who made it so. Going through his one-year stint in Easfrija amplified this sentiment. His throat clenched a little, but he managed to voice his gratitude without choking.
"Thank you all for making time! I appreciate it so much."
"Only been a year and already getting sappy, carrot-head?" Someone called out, the inflammatory words at odds with their neutral tone. "They teach you to cry about it too?"
" Land ahoy ? Was that the best you could do, you little shit?" He shot back, but with the same absence of heat in his voice.
The small crowd parted slightly as the instigator walked up. Before Lavi stood a man with an aquiline nose and light, vertical make-up down the middle of both eyes. They surveyed each other for a brief moment, then broke into matching grins and exchanged one-armed hugs, bumping their chests together.
"Daisya, Daisya, how's my little daisy boy?"
"Welcome home, pirate boy. Or should I say, welcome back aboard? Missed me?"
Lavi scowled. "As much as you missed me, I'm sure."
"Oh yeah... Yeah, definitely. Didn't you read all about it in my letters?"
Still grumpy about the one letter he had received all year, Lavi shoved lightly at the other man, who accepted it as a form of punishment for his terrible manners.
"Damn rascal," Lavi huffed. "How have you been?"
Daisya affected a long-suffering sigh. "Dreadful, Lavi. It's a nightmare trying to prank people without my favourite scapegoat. I got my butt kicked by Yu at some point. Seriously, how do you manage to braid his hair without waking the beast?"
"About time you took responsibility for your own actions," his teammate, Noise Marie, put in sternly before smiling at Lavi. "Welcome back, Lavi."
Marie was a burly and good-natured man, and Lavi had always liked him. He returned the smile, and they exchanged a few more pleasantries before the man excused himself and wandered off. With the initial crowd spreading out around the lobby, Lavi and Daisya headed for an empty corner.
"Hey guys! Krory wanted to say hi."
Allen appeared to have escaped the wrath of Komui and had snuck back into the lobby, this time dragging with him an extraordinarily tall man sporting broad shoulders.
Krory was an exchange student from Vechnostia and quite a few years older than most of the recruits. He bore an unusual streak of white bangs, slicked back against his otherwise ebony hair, as though the everlasting snow of his wintry nation in the north had followed him here.
"Hello, Lavi," said Krory, his gentle tone and nervous expression a stark contrast to his sharp, regal features. "I hope you had safe travels."
Some things didn't change, did they? The poor man clearly still was unused to crowds and people he wasn't familiar with, having been brought up as an only child in a large mansion with his parents constantly away for work. Krory must have worked up quite the courage to approach him here, in front of everyone else.
Lavi offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he stood to pat his back in a friendly manner. "Hey, Krory! It's so good to see you again. I love those letters you wrote back too. Come sit with us?"
His smile widened as Krory's face smoothened out, rushing to return the compliment. "Oh, no, it really was of no problem at all. I find our correspondence very pleasant."
Krory seemed much too sweet and sheltered to be joining the military. Lavi sincerely hoped that the man wouldn't have to. Academic pursuits appeared to fit the Vechnostian man better; his penmanship was the subject of envy amongst scholars here, and he enjoyed perusing books as much as Lavi did. It begged the question of what Krory had planned for the future, of which Lavi realised he did not know.
A fond chuckle escaped Allen as he sat, gesturing for Krory to join him, who did so carefully.
Daisya flopped down next to Lavi and drawled, "Oh Krory, you're a real hoot. Why do you always speak like that? Save it for when our bones start creaking or something."
Confusion crossed Krory's face. "My apologies—"
"Krory, no. Don't apologise. Ignore the silly man," Allen interrupted in a soothing voice, then pointed a finger at the perpetrator. "You're a clown, shut up."
Daisya gasped and pressed a hand to his heart. "And here I thought we were partners in clownery."
"I don't know, Daisya. Weren't clowns supposed to be funny?"
"Quick life lesson, honey ? Things tend to fall flat when one's humour is lacking."
"Well, buttercup , it's difficult to match the humour of a ten-year-old."
"Thank goodness you had no such issue matching your height."
One of Allen's eye twitched and Lavi decided it was a good time to change the topic. "Oh, you guys. Guess what I discovered in Easfrija."
Allen perked up, successfully distracted. "What?"
"Old men with a harder hard-on for discipline than my old man."
Krory looked aghast. "Oh, no."
Allen and Daisya shared a pitying glance, their imagination surely conjuring the image of a bigger, badder Bookman – multiplied by three. A veteran sage would have fled.
"That is terrible," Krory said, frowning heavily in distress. "Did they beat you too?"
"Only every other day," Lavi answered dryly.
Everyone startled backwards as Krory abruptly shot up. "That simply will not do! Lavi, you must report this transgression post-haste!" His face had already reddened with righteous indignation.
"Krory! Krory, calm down. It was a joke – I was joking!" Lavi hastily grabbed the man's arm, trying to pull him back down.
The other man paused uncertainly. "I see... you were not beaten then?"
Lavi resisted the urge to palm his own face with his hand. Hard. "No, Krory, nobody beat me."
Except for Bookman, that is.
"Oh. Well." Krory sat and shook his head a little, as though the gesture could cast off the souring of his mood. "Pardon my outburst."
How had the military not already eaten this clueless man alive?
"I mean, it's hard to believe worse than Mr Bookman can exist," Allen commented. "Remember the time he made Lavi do the dusting?"
Daisya grinned while Krory muttered words under his breath that sounded like a prayer.
Lavi slouched low in his seat. That past nightmare appeared to hang over his head, bearing down on him with soul-crushing weight. "No. Nope. I certainly do not remember. Therefore it never happened."
It had been a musty, back-breaking affair that took days. The only thing he got out of it was endless bouts of sneezing and a very sore nose.
"Oh, shame. It's alright, I'll help! So, Allen found you face-down in your room and had to drag you to the bathroom and splash you with water," Daisya said, obsidian eyes gleaming, unable to hide the amusement he felt at the memory. "I got some good slaps in. Oops, did I say that out loud?"
"I held the door open while Allen moved your body," Krory put in oh-so-helpfully, eliciting a wicked laugh from Daisya.
Allen didn't seem as tickled as he leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. "I almost had a heart attack thinking he died."
"Well, gramps made me do it all alone. What was I supposed to do – make it out alive?" Lavi's bottom lip trembled at the recollection. It was from that moment he learned to fear the punishment.
He genuinely enjoyed maintaining his books, and he took pride in keeping them free of dust and dog-ears. But tending to rows upon rows of ceiling-high shelves, stacked back-to-back, wasn't his calling. He couldn't imagine it being anybody's.
They say someone's loss was another's benefit. Lavi swore that old man slept better at night after seeing his stuffy nose and watering eyes. If the devil walked upon this earth, it had to be in the form of a wizened, panda-eyed man. No doubt about it.
"You're lucky that day was pudding day, or else Allen probably wouldn't have noticed you were missing your favourite dessert," Daisya chuckled, stretching and yawning. "Nobody else did."
Lavi couldn't help responding. "That might be the first positive thing to come out of his gluttony. Saved by Allen's sweet tooth."
They shared a laugh while the subject of their humour rolled his eyes. Krory patted Allen's arm in an attempt at consolation.
Speaking of gluttony...
"Oh, right, I'd almost forgotten the gifts."
Lavi jumped up and went over to where he had put his luggage aside in a safe corner of the lobby. He rummaged through it carefully and eventually drew out a few neatly wrapped boxes of different sizes. He returned to the others and referred to the names he had neatly written on wrapping paper before handing them out.
"You can open them now or later, I don't mind," he told them.
Krory looked far too excited as he received his but made no move to open it – ever the well-mannered heir to a Vechnostian barony. "Your generosity is greatly appreciated, Lavi. I can't thank you enough."
The other two echoed their thanks as they peeled the gifts open. Revealing a cookbook featuring authentic Wen cuisine, and a curiously shaped ball.
"Jerry is going to love this!" Allen exclaimed, already flipping through the pages and marvelling at the drawings of delicious food. Barely ten seconds in and already the snowy-haired teenager was enthusiastically pushing the book in the others' faces, pointing out details.
Lavi smiled at the sight and couldn't help but shake his head minutely. Sometimes it felt as though a gift for one was more accurately for two.
However, the ball soon caught Allen's attention as Daisya held it up, examining it in wonder.
"Woah, what is that?"
"I think it is rather... cute." Krory looked surprised at his own choice of adjective.
"It's a cuju ball," Lavi explained as he reached out to draw a finger down the smooth, brown strips of wood weaved through each other in taut rows of four, shaped into an almost perfectly round ball. "This is made of rattan, one of the strongest woods in the world. Cuju is the Wen version of football. Actually, it could be the origin of modern football. But I'll spare you guys the boring details."
Allen still looked fascinated by it but gave emphatic nods of gratitude at Lavi's consideration.
"Cuju, cuju ball." Krory rolled the foreign word around his lips.
"It's beautiful," Daisya said, cradling it in his hands like a baby animal. He looked up, an oddly tender smile on his face. "Thanks, Lavi."
Lavi felt relief wash over him like a sun-touched wave, dissipating the tension in his body. This was his first attempt at gifting people, and he had tried his best to make it a meaningful one. That his friends liked what he picked out for them, was its own worthwhile gift to him. He felt valued. Wanted.
It wasn't a feeling he often experienced.
He knew Bookman cared, but the old man wasn't prone to showing it in common ways and rarely did he exhibit any. If there existed a standard which people followed in expressing the various types of affection, Lavi wasn't acquainted with it.
His childhood... wasn't much to speak of either. Half of his life spent in an orphanage, yet those years felt like a dream one couldn't recall upon waking up. Absent of subject, an empty space that couldn't be revisited because it lacked a defining memory to expand on.
The strongest sensations he remembered were probably the distinctive musky smell of the books he surrounded himself with, and the smooth feel of paper beneath his eager fingers. He spent most of his time sequestered by the bookcases in the playroom. A little corner of respite amid loneliness and hunger.
Each year a testament as to how that period of his life passed in a soundless blur, especially given his eidetic memory. Without much opportunity to explore the world outside, he settled for the ones within browned pages.
Lavi considered himself extremely fortunate to have met Lenalee and the others, even if it hadn't been for long. A year – if one didn't count all that letter writing – was a blip compared to the rest of his life so far. He shared a multitude of experiences with his friends. For better or worse, they brought colour into his life, painting over the blacks and whites.
But for some unexplainable reason, whenever it came to these interactions, he always felt as though he was looking in from the outside. A spectator to vibrancy, but never a participant. Never really belonging. Maybe the real Lavi still hadn't made it out. Left behind in that tiny corner of words, unable to reconcile the fact that he had physically moved on.
"What's that?"
Silvery eyes were trained on the last gift in his hand. Lavi looked down.
"It's a... shared gift," he emphasised with a knowing lift to his lips, catching Allen's gaze with his own, who understood immediately. The younger man closed his shiny new cookbook and slipped it carefully back into its box.
"Would anyone help me watch over my book?" Allen asked.
Krory readily volunteered and stacked it below his own. Lavi handed the gift over to Allen. It was probably the biggest gift out of everyone's; a wide but fairly thin box. They would find out some time later that it contained an elegant set of Wen accessories, purposed for the hair down to the wrist, packed with an impossibly soft shawl.
"Is this going to be her Valentine's Day gift?" Lavi couldn't help but ask.
Allen stared towards where Lenalee mingled with the others, smiling and gesturing. A determined expression crossed his face. "No... but I have a dinner planned for tonight."
"Go on then. You got this," Lavi encouraged.
Allen nodded tightly and started walking. Krory's anxious gaze burned into the younger man's back.
"I can't watch that dumbass short-stack," muttered Daisya, dropping his head onto the sofa's backrest.
Lavi felt a similar nervousness bubbling in his gut. After all, Allen had trusted him to pick out such an important gift. He had invested a fair bit of thought into it, but there was always a chance it might not work out.
Its intended recipient struck him as the type to appreciate low-key, earthy themes. He was confident she would also love a design and origin straight from her home country; nostalgic and perfectly fitting. His keen attention to detail came in handy once again, this time for his role as a wingman.
It was just as well he knew that Easfrijians placed importance on staying connected with nature and being in harmony with their environment.
The shopkeeper had patiently listened through his stuttered queries spoken in Wenhua, the Wen's local language, before repeating his questions back at him in fluent, if not heavily accented, Visterish, with a kind smile.
"You want gifts for a young lady, but not too showy, yes?"
Lavi had nodded shyly, caught by surprise and feeling a little silly. In a few moments, the middle-aged woman was laying out a few choice selections on her red-clothed table.
The most eye-catching item was a beautiful golden fringed shawl, intricately embroidered with chrysanthemum flowers of light-yellow petals and green leaves, a jewellery set of muted browns and greens inlaid with amber gems that sparkled, and – curiously enough – a dagger glinting dimly in the shadows, its blade melding perfectly into a solid-wood handle.
The dagger appeared rather plain and inconspicuous, without any decorations – just an ergonomically grooved handle with small, neat characters etched into the end of one side. It measured at roughly twenty... twenty-five centimetres in length and felt sturdy and well-made in his hands. Its sheath lay next to it, made of similarly plain solid wood that gleamed, interlaid tightly with a glossy leather strap and hoop – presumably for attaching to a belt or boot.
"Obsidian," the shopkeeper had said. "Very sharp and smooth, but not the strongest. Best for a quick, sure strike. Touch and go. Self-defence in a pinch."
It became clear as to what to buy and for whom. The shawl, for Lenalee's warmth; the jewellery, for her beauty. As for the dagger... Its blade blinked back at him.
"I'll take all three."
This was going to set him back a pretty penny, but there was no doubt in his mind.
"Good choice, mister. Packed together or separately?"
"The shawl and jewellery together, the dagger separately, please."
The shopkeeper nodded and went to fetch the appropriate gift boxes, leaving Lavi to admire his newest purchase. It was then he noticed something. When the woman returned, he tilted the dagger in his hand and, with his thumb, underlined the cursive characters carved into its handle.
"This... doesn't seem like Wenhua."
She peered closer, a frown appearing between her brows. "No, it isn't. Similar, but not."
"Do you know what it is?"
She considered the dagger a little longer. "I think it is Nihongo, of the Nihon – one of our communities from before the Old War. They are from the mountain islands far west of Easfrija."
Nihon? Wasn't that...
"Then, do you know what it means?"
"I don't. You have to ask a Nihon or someone who speaks it... But I think I can read this."
She glanced up at his expectant stare.
"It says: mu-gen."
Lavi would have given away one of his remaining gifts, but its recipient remained nowhere to be seen.
He distracted himself with the spectacle of Allen's hesitant attempts to approach Lenalee. The boy dithered around for a good minute and at one point seemed to give himself a quick under-the-breath pep talk, before finally working up the courage.
Lenalee turned and her face brightened upon seeing Allen. Her expression morphed into confusion, surprise, finally stopping at shy gratitude as she took the gift and gave a big hug in return.
"That little shit did it," Daisya snickered, having watched despite his earlier claim. "I thought he was going to take forever. It's a gift, not a bomb."
"About time," Lavi sighed heavily, feeling the nervous bubbles fizzle out.
Krory looked satisfied.
Lavi couldn't bring himself to admit that he would probably have chickened out if he tried engaging Kanda like that. Allen's actions clearly made himself out to be a braver man than Lavi was. He needed to find a way to get Kanda's gift to him and he would be damned if he asked Daisya for help. That man would ruin everything. He could see a rainbow banner hung across Kanda's dorm door right now, with a childish verse written on it:
Kanda and Lavi
Sitting on a tree...
It would be a better idea to hang himself with that banner.
He entertained the thought of requesting help from Lenalee or Marie, as Kanda seemed the most receptive towards them – and by that, he of course meant 'least murderous'. But borrowing help ran the risk of appearing too impersonal and insincere. He needed to stop thinking like a coward and figure it out himself.
In the end, with his two best options gone, Lavi resigned himself to asking Daisya... for Kanda's whereabouts.
The man shrugged, batting his little cuju ball from hand to hand. "No idea."
"When did you last see him?"
"Dunno."
"Well, did you see him at all today?"
"Maybe."
"...Do you only have one-word responses?"
Daisya smirked. "No."
Lavi could feel a headache approaching like a freight train. He huffed a breath in weary exasperation, wondering why he even bothered. He delivered a small punch to the other man's arm in a small show of pettiness. "Fuck you, big-nose."
"I've barely seen him today." Daisya ignored his insult in a rare show of pity for him. "Or yesterday. Or the past two weeks. But you know Yu, he has a routine."
In sync, they glanced towards the ornate owl clock hung on the wall behind the reception desk, ticking away under its watchful glass eyes.
12:07 pm. Lunch time?
Right on cue, Lenalee's yell floated over. "Lavi, Daisya. We have cake!"
Both men looked over to see her carefully cutting generous slices of a large lemony cake with velvety layers of vanilla, topped with an assortment of artfully stacked berries, while Allen handed out plates. The pair was as helpful as ever.
Krory was already drifting over while the other residents who had stayed around settled back down in their couches, the low buzz of chatter falling as they ate.
"We'll be right there!" Lavi called back.
He felt torn. He couldn't help but wish to catch Kanda in the cafeteria now while it was hopefully at its least crowded, with less witnesses around. But neither did he want to be ungrateful after Lenalee and the others had brought him a cake and all. Most of all, he didn't want to see her trying to hide her disappointment for his sake.
When he looked back, Daisya had stood up and seemed ready to go over. His interest in cake plain to see. "Come on, carrot-head. Stop moping around – you look pathetic. Yu's going to be around tomorrow; that cake isn't."
Neither was Daisya going to be of any assistance.
Lavi grunted, getting to his feet and stretching casually as they made their way out. They received their share of cake with verbalisations of gratitude and returned to their original spots on the sofa, with Krory, to wait. It did not take long for the two 'hosts' to ensure everyone got theirs. Very soon Allen and Lenalee were seated opposite them, plates in hand and gifts back on the coffee table.
The group fell into easy conversation in-between mouthfuls of soft, flavourful cake as they caught up on the past year. Kanda's absence had dampened the warm feeling in Lavi's chest, but it had not entirely dissipated. Surrounded by his dearest friends, chatting and bantering, it was almost like he'd never left. At times, he was content to simply sit back and enjoy the sound of their voices. The long absence made them sound all the sweeter.
They shared their grievances about the BMT program, and he listened in commiseration to them elaborate on the demanding army regimen and how lucky Lavi was to be skipping the mandatory two years of service due to his special arrangement.
Despite having to deal with three Bookman-wannabes for a year straight, he could empathise with them about juggling military training and academic studies almost concurrently. While their studies occurred on alternate weeks, military training alternated only days, and he was well-aware of how physical exhaustion was on another level – an unshakable heaviness that was bone-deep. He did go through most of the first year with them after all.
During a lull in their chatter, Lavi decided to seize the opportunity to employ leading questions. Maybe through this way, he could wiggle out some answers or advice from the others without being conspicuous about the topic of Kanda...
First bait?
"I've been meaning to ask – how did you guys know exactly when I would get back to the dorms?"
"We didn't. Well, we did receive a call from Port Haven," Lenalee responded with a laugh. "I told Stefan to ring reception if he saw you. Then we just waited for you to show up."
Stefan must have remarkably keen eyes and quick hands, if he had identified Lavi and made the call before he even got out of the stagecoach. The only thing he saw the man do was step out of the guardhouse and approach them. Lenalee had picked a good messenger.
"You really think of everything." His appreciative smile soon turned devious. "Hey Lena-lady... call me everything because I would like to—"
Lavi tried and failed to dodge the swift slap directed at his head. "Hey! Bookman whacks me enough up here! I'm losing precious brain cells."
"Behave yourself then."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Lenalee shook her head in exasperation.
"You deserved it because that was a terrible pick-up line," Daisya scoffed.
Lavi stuck his tongue out. "I'm taking back cuju ball privileges if you don't shut it. Anyways, where's Miranda? I've got a gift for her as well."
"The usual. She's gone back to her hometown," Allen replied, looking irked. "She left a few days ago actually. Her family sent a last-minute letter with an ultimatum, because how dare she not immediately travel home the moment the holidays started."
"Ah... I figured as much."
Miranda's family shared similarities with Krory's – in the sense that they both came from old money, lived in imposing houses with more rooms than an inn, and endured demanding elders who insisted every rule be abided by or it would be a dishonour on all their metaphorical cows. In fact, he was quite sure that Miranda's family owned a farm or two... somewhere.
"She was quite upset about it, she really wanted to be here. Especially since she missed last year's group outing..." Lenalee twiddled her thumbs, lips drawn in worry.
Lavi hmm ed in understanding, similarly concerned. A few social-history books he browsed through before had mentioned how the slightest infraction could be punished, all in the name of upholding reputation and tradition. Old, rich families sounded insufferable.
There really wasn't much to be said or done; nobody could or would interfere. He had a feeling that if they did, the situation would implode in their faces instead. Miranda might end up disowned, even. And then they would all die from guilt.
"I hope she isn't blaming herself for this," Lavi put in perfunctorily.
"Knowing her, she does," sighed Lenalee.
Lavi was about to speak when Daisya groaned, cutting him off. "You guys are melodramatic as fuck. Miranda needs to grow a spine and stop letting some old piçler boss her around." He looked ready to continue but trailed off as the twin glares of Allen and Lenalee had him raising both hands in defence, cuju ball falling to his lap. "What? It's the truth."
Lenalee folded her arms. "You can be so insensitive sometimes; you could give Yu a run for his money."
"Huh, I could take that as a compliment."
Her expression iced over. "It really isn't."
Krory resembled a little mouse caught in a cat's line of sight, trying to appear as still as possible.
"I know better than to say such things and you've got a way better upbringing than I do," muttered Allen.
Allen posed a more comfortable opponent than Lenalee was, and Daisya immediately switched targets. He spread both arms out on the backrest of the settee, looking like a satisfied cat. "Hardly a competition when the only upbringing you got were stilts."
Silvery eyes twitched. "The only reason I would need stilts is to beat you with them."
"Ooh, low blow."
"Of course, when my opponent has hit rock bottom."
Lavi observed them insult each other. Their interactions reminded him heavily of Allen's own tiffs with Kanda – except those tended to contain a significantly higher risk of violence. He couldn't help but wonder how Allen split his time fighting with his two rivals.
The way they regularly had a go at each other spoke of familiarity, as though it was a more recent habit. Daisya had mentioned that they barely saw Kanda around for a fortnight now.
A growing sense of worry ate at Lavi. He decided the middle of his friends' squabbling was most definitely an appropriate time to interrupt and mention Kanda's absence. No question about it.
Slinging casual glances around the lobby, trying to make it obvious that he didn't care that much, he joked, "I don't see Yu around either, did Tiedoll also kidnap him back to their big, fancy mansion?"
He turned back in time to catch Lenalee and Allen exchanging worried but knowing glances.
Oh. He looked away, trying his best to ignore the sting in his heart. It wouldn't help to be envious of their closeness, and a decent friend should feel nothing but positive emotions for them.
"This is boring," Daisya interjected, getting to his feet and stretching. "I'll catch you snoozers at dinner later." He grabbed his cuju ball and left. His abrupt departure had the others looking a little confused in his wake.
"Huh." Allen blinked and shrugged.
Krory peered anxiously over the rim of the cookbook.
"Well, to answer your question," began Lenalee carefully. "We haven't seen him around much lately. I think he might just be trying to find things to do. Some of us probably got too used to our hectic schedule."
It was Lavi's turn to shrug, face written with indifference. Betraying none of the choppiness below surface level.
Not bothering to show up and welcome Lavi back despite him being away for an entire year, despite knowing he was due to return today... Kanda's actions loudly stated dispassion towards Lavi, and admittedly, it was unapologetically Kanda.
Perhaps the burden of blame should weigh upon Lavi's shoulders, for persisting to pursue someone whom everyone knew to be as prickly as a cactus. He could recite in his head how Bookman always spoke against the idea of deeper attachments.
But in the end, however Lavi tried to manufacture rationale, it couldn't ease the hurt borne from this situation. Feelings flowed like lava. Once it surfaced, it would remain exposed. Bubbling with heat, until the day it cooled into something... less. But he knew that day was unlikely to happen anytime soon for him.
It wasn't difficult to feign nonchalance as he had been doing it for years and Lavi stuck his bottom lip out sadly. "I have Yu's present, but he isn't here... Maybe he's expecting me to shimmy down his chimney like Santa."
Allen groaned. "Lavi, please. Never put those words together in that order again."
He threw a cushion at a grimacing Allen, who caught it easily and spun it back.
Lenalee bit her lip, a mysterious look creeping into her eyes. "How about trying his room during dinner?"
The timing seemed a tad unusual, but what could he possibly lose? He nodded with fake cheer. "Is it finally time to catch him in bed? Me-ow."
"Ugh," complained Allen, prompting Lavi to initiate a second throw at his face. "You! Lenalee, are you hearing this? My ears are about to fall right off!"
"Now," Lenalee clapped her hands together once, ignoring their shenanigans. Excitement bloomed on her face. "It's just us four but – The Wonky Donkey? My treat!"
Lavi opened his mouth to protest but Lenalee shushed him with a stern look. "Lavi! We're going to celebrate properly, and cake isn't proper lunch. Put your luggage and gifts away, and let's go."
He couldn't bring himself to say no, so he stood and saluted in mock seriousness.
"One-eyed Squad, dismissed!"
Then he marched away to do as told.
