Lavi spent the night restlessly, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him like a physical burden. No matter how hard he tried, sleep remained out of reach, his mind refusing to quiet down. The events of the past days replayed over and over in his mind, like a broken record that wouldn't stop. Kanda's disappointment was etched into his memory, the coldness in his eyes, the stern tone in his voice—Lavi couldn't shake the feeling that he'd let down one of the few people whose opinion he genuinely cared about.
And then there was Tyki. Tyki's interest in him was unsettling, to say the least. There was a cryptic, almost predatory nature to it, as though Tyki knew something about Lavi that even Lavi wasn't fully aware of. Why him? Why now? These questions gnawed at him, creating a storm of confusion and unease that left him feeling vulnerable in ways he hadn't experienced before.
And Allen... Allen had always been the one Lavi could count on to be straightforward, but even he had been guarded lately. The careful way Allen had been choosing his words, the subtle tension in his posture—Lavi knew something was up. Allen was worried, and that only added to Lavi's growing anxiety.
As the hours dragged on, Lavi found himself staring up at the ceiling, lost in the tangled web of his thoughts. Their shared dorm room was quiet, too quiet, and the stillness only amplified the noise in his mind. He could hear Allen's steady breathing from the other side of the room, a constant reminder that his friend was nearby, yet Lavi still felt alone with his thoughts.
He remembered the conversation with Kanda, how the words had spilled out of him without much thought. "I was drunk and stupid. I won't let it happen again." He had meant it—he didn't want to be the kind of person who let his guard down, who made mistakes that could cost him the trust of those around him. But now, in the stillness of the night, those words felt hollow, inadequate. He couldn't help but wonder if Kanda would ever fully trust him again, or if he'd always be seen as someone who needed to be watched, someone who could slip up at any moment.
And then there was Tyki. The name sent a shiver down Lavi's spine. Tyki Mikk wasn't someone to be taken lightly, and the fact that he seemed to be interested in Lavi was both terrifying and infuriating. Lavi wasn't used to feeling like a pawn, like someone else was pulling the strings in his life. But that's exactly how he felt now—like he was being maneuvered into a position he didn't fully understand, by someone who was far more dangerous than he had initially realized.
The thought of Tyki sent his mind racing. What did he want? What did he know? And why did it feel like there was something more, something hidden just beneath the surface, something Lavi couldn't quite grasp? It was maddening, the not knowing, the uncertainty. Lavi wasn't used to feeling powerless, but that's exactly how he felt now—like a small cog in a much larger machine, one that was moving toward a destination he couldn't see.
The next morning, when the soft glow of dawn finally filtered through the curtains, Lavi felt like he hadn't slept at all. His body was heavy with exhaustion, his mind foggy, but there was no time to dwell on it. The faint sounds of campus life were already beginning to stir outside, a reminder that the world kept moving, no matter what was happening in his head.
Lavi rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fatigue, but it was no use. He could feel the exhaustion in his bones, in the sluggish way his body responded to his commands. But he pushed through it, forcing himself to get up, to move, to keep going. Today was a new day, and with it came new challenges. He couldn't afford to let himself be paralyzed by fear or doubt—not when there was so much at stake.
As he dressed, Lavi made a silent vow to himself. He wouldn't let yesterday's mistakes define him. He wouldn't let the fear of the unknown control him. He was going to push forward, to seek out the answers he needed, no matter how difficult or dangerous that might be. His mind was made up—he wouldn't be caught off guard again. He had to be proactive, to take control of his fate before it was taken from him.
When Lavi arrived at the dining hall for breakfast, he found Allen and Lenalee already there, sitting at their usual spot. The atmosphere was tense, though they all tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Lenalee offered him a warm smile as he approached, but her eyes betrayed her concern. Allen, too, was quieter than usual, his gaze occasionally drifting toward Lavi as if he wanted to say something but held back.
"Lavi," Lenalee finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled over them. "Have you thought about what you'll do next?"
Lavi looked up from his untouched plate, meeting her gaze. Her question hung in the air, heavy with implications. He knew what she was really asking—what he was going to do about Tyki, about the strange connection between them, about the past that seemed to be catching up with him.
"I've been thinking about it a lot, actually," Lavi admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. "I need to know more about what's going on, about my past and how it all ties together. And I need to figure out what Tyki's really after."
Allen nodded, his expression serious. "It's a good plan. But we have to be careful. The more we dig, the more dangerous it could become."
"I know," Lavi replied, his voice steady. He appreciated Allen's concern, but he couldn't let that stop him. "But I can't just sit back and wait for something to happen. I have to take action."
Lenalee reached across the table, placing a hand on Lavi's. Her touch was warm, reassuring, and it grounded him in the moment, cutting through the fog of his thoughts. "We're with you, Lavi. Whatever you decide, we'll be there to help."
A small smile tugged at Lavi's lips, and he felt a flicker of warmth amidst the uncertainty. "Thanks, Lenalee. That means a lot."
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Lavi attended his classes, went through the motions, but his mind was constantly elsewhere. His thoughts kept drifting back to Tyki, to the cryptic words he had spoken, to the strange sense of familiarity Lavi had felt in his presence. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was missing, some crucial piece of information that would make everything else fall into place.
But there was another side to it, too. As much as Lavi wanted answers, as much as he needed to understand what was happening, there was a part of him that was afraid of what he might find. The truth, whatever it was, had the potential to change everything. And once he uncovered it, there would be no going back.
As evening approached, Lavi found himself drawn to the library once more. The vast rows of books, filled with ancient knowledge, seemed to call out to him. This time, however, he wasn't here to lose himself in thought—he was here to find answers.
The library was quiet, the kind of quiet that wrapped around you like a blanket, muting the outside world. The only sounds were the soft rustle of pages turning, the occasional creak of a chair, the steady rhythm of Lavi's own footsteps as he moved through the aisles.
He wandered through the shelves, his eyes scanning the spines of the books, searching for anything that might shed light on his situation. He passed books on vampire lore, histories of ancient lineages, and texts on the Noah and their enigmatic powers. Each one held potential answers, but none of them seemed quite right. He needed something more specific, something that spoke directly to his own past.
It wasn't until he stumbled upon a dusty old tome, tucked away in a forgotten corner, that he felt a spark of recognition. The book's cover was worn, its title barely legible, but something about it drew him in. There was an air of mystery around it, as though it had been waiting for him, hidden in the shadows of the library.
Lavi pulled the book from the shelf, carefully brushing away the dust, and opened it to the first page. The text was dense, written in an old script that was difficult to read, but Lavi's eyes widened as he realized what he was looking at.
It was a chronicle of the vampire clans, dating back centuries. It detailed their histories, their powers, and most importantly, their conflicts. As he skimmed through the pages, he found references to the lost prince of a powerful clan—his clan. The prince who had vanished, leaving behind a legacy of mystery and unanswered questions.
Lavi's heart raced as he read on, the pieces of his own story starting to fall into place. There were mentions of betrayals, alliances, and wars fought in the shadows. And there, buried within the text, was a name that made his blood run cold—Tyki Mikk.
The book spoke of Tyki as a key figure in the ancient conflicts, a manipulator who had played both sides for his own gain. He was described as a shadow, moving through the darkness with a grace and ease that made him nearly invisible. He was a master of deception, a figure who thrived on chaos and discord.
It was clear now that Tyki's interest in Lavi wasn't just casual—it was deeply rooted in the history of their people. There was something about Lavi, something connected to his lineage, that Tyki wanted. And whatever it was, it was enough to draw Tyki's attention across the centuries, to make him seek out Lavi in the present day.
Lavi closed the book, his hands trembling. The truth was starting to take shape, and with it came a sense of dread that settled deep in his gut. Whatever Tyki wanted, whatever his endgame was, it was connected to Lavi in ways he hadn't fully understood until now.
But he wasn't alone. Allen, Lenalee, and even Kanda—they were all in this together, whether they realized it or not. They were all caught in the same web, and the only way out was to confront the truth head-on, no matter how terrifying it might be.
As Lavi left the library that evening, the weight of what he had discovered pressed down on him. He knew there was no turning back now. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but he was determined to see it through to the end.
For the first time in days, Lavi felt a sense of clarity, a sense of purpose. He wasn't just a pawn in someone else's game—he was a player in his own right, and he was going to make sure his moves counted.