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Mea Culpa	By : saxonjesus Category: +. to F > D. Gray Man Views: 1739 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Part II: Lies

As usual, the nightmares returned the night after, and they continued on
throughout the week and into the following one, betraying Yuu's normally calm
and stoic fa�ade. It was hard to pretend he didn't care when every night, he
saw Lavi being gutted or bleeding or poisoned or dying from the Akuma virus.
Even worse, though, was the dream that showed only one image until it was
scarred on the back of Yuu's eyelids. Bookman's face, emotionless and as
uncaring as the dark-haired man sought to be. The green eye was flat, devoid of
life, and almost mechanical in the calculating quality behind it. If he looked
close enough, Yuu could almost see the gears turning in Bookman's head,
thoughts clicking with each tick of the man's nonexistent heart.

Emerging from the room to the smell of Lenalee's freshly baked bread and
something that reeked of kippers, Yuu sat down at the table, ignoring Bookman
as he usually did.

"Good morning, Kanda," the redhead said. Yuu inclined his head but
gave no other response. The man didn't deserve it.

"Oh, Yuu-kun, you're up!" Lenalee said, smiling pleasantly as she
turned around. Going into the cupboard, she produced a plate and set it down in
front of the dark-haired man. "Are you going out the whole day
again?" She asked as she placed a basket of bread in front of her guests.
Bookman smiled up at her, though Yuu noticed there was no sign of gratefulness
or any genuine emotion in his eye.

"Yes," he replied, grabbing a slice of bread and spreading jam on it.
It was at breakfast that he missed Jerry's meals the most, though Lenalee was a
fair cook herself. Her bread tasted almost exactly like the late Indian man's,
and her Asian dishes were perfection on a plate.

"How about you, Bookman?" Lenalee asked, once again trying to
incorporate the useless idiot into the conversation. Yuu scoffed but waited for
the redhead's answer anyway. He hated that even after six years, he still loved
the annoying, nasal voice that he had once been so familiar with.

"Yeah. There are a few more tasks I need to complete before I go on my
way," he said. Yuu tried to ignore the pang in his heart at the sound.

Thankfully, Lenalee chose that moment to take the kippers out of the frying pan
and serve them.

"Itadakimasu," Yuu murmured, just as he always did before he
ate.

When he'd finished, he got up and excused himself. Lenalee walked up to him and
gave him a gentle hug, which he allowed, simply because she was giving him a
place to stay and she would make that face with the wide, pleading eyes and the
slack, almost frowning lips. She'd done that since they were young. It was how
she got Komui to do anything for her. It was how she got Yuu to do
anything for her. Besides, if he didn't let her hug him, Moyashi would
threaten to throw him out on the streets, and that would start a fight that
would eventually end up with them hugging anyway. It was best to get things
done quickly and efficiently. He even patted her back awkwardly a few times
before grabbing Mugen's hilt and striding from the house.

He took the Underground to Bloomsbury. He'd already searched most of the East
half of London and had made no progress so far. This was how it usually was for
him--he'd spend a few months in a city before finding another lead that would
take him to a completely different city. This time, though, nothing was leading
him away. He'd found some people in Greenwich who seemed convinced they had
seen her, but he hadn't found anything since then. Unfortunately, that meant he
was forced to scour the rest of the city, searching everywhere until he found
something else. Just as always.

It was monotonous, sometimes. But he needed to find her, now more than ever.
He'd promised her so many years ago, before he'd been taken, and he intended to
make good on that vow.

Striding quickly up the street and past yet another stone building, Yuu thought
he saw a flash of red hair, but he ignored the jumping of his heart. He was
being stupid, in more ways than one. It wasn't Bookman--he had business today
and wouldn't be following the dark-haired man--and even if it was, he wasn't
supposed to care. It was stupid of him, and he was beyond such idiocy, was he
not?

The first few weeks, it had been horrible, seeing Lavi and knowing that the boy
was no longer what he had been. Every time the boy had called him Kanda, it
felt like a brand marking his chest. He had learned to get used to it, but even
now, there was always a twinge when he heard the stranger call him by his
surname. After the war, Yuu had tried to move on, but every time he heard a
laugh at just the right pitch, every time he saw red hair--which had been very
frequent when he'd been in Ireland--he'd turn around, do a double-take, and
then mentally berate himself for his moronic tendencies. He didn't know what
was so hard about the concept, but forgetting Lavi was damned near impossible.

"Kanda!"

He was imagining it, he had to be. There was something very, very wrong with
him, and his mind was providing him with the image of Bookman walking over to
him, hand raised in greeting, a fake-expectant look on his face. So he walked
on.

"That's cold, Kanda. I know you're not that much of a bastard,"
Bookman complained, though he didn't sound genuine in the least. Not that he
ever had.

"Shut up, rabbit--" oh, fuck, he'd slipped, "--or I'll gut you
with Mugen."

"Still falling back on that old threat?" The other man teased
hollowly. Scowling, Yuu twirled around, his long coat billowing almost
dramatically at the sudden movement. He unsheathed Mugen, and with swift,
accurate control, he placed the tip right at the annoyance's jugular. It was
almost gratifying to see Bookman's eye widen in surprise as he abruptly stopped
his gait.

"Oh, I see it's not a threat this time," the man said lightly,
lifting a hand and delicately removing it from his neck. Yuu let it fall, the
tip hovering just a few centimeters above the ground.

"Che. What was your first clue?" He asked nastily, holding his
sword's hilt slightly too tight. He didn't expect to be attacked, though, so he
could allow himself the comfort of squeezing his katana.

"What happened to you?"

Yuu wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but there seemed to be a very subtle
emotion in the back of Bookman's eye. Something almost... startled? Perturbed?
Maybe a hint of concern?

Snarling, Yuu bit out, "what the fuck do you think happened?"

Turning on his heel, he made to walk off, but the fucking Bookman wasn't done
irritating him yet and grabbed his wrist. The Japanese man attempted to rip his
arm away, but the redhead's grip was steady and strong, and it wouldn't let him
free.

"What the fuck do you want?" He hissed, turning once more so that he
could slam the full force of his scowl at the man he had once called friend.
The man he had once called lover.

Lover. The very word seemed like a curse to him now.

The Bookman paused, looking around for a second. "Er," he began. Yuu
resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pulled at the grip on his wrist again.
"Nothing," Bookman concluded.

"Che." There was nothing else to say, not without rehashing
words and emotions he had long ago repressed. They didn't need to be released.
They'd both known from the beginning that there was supposed to be nothing.
Anything that had developed in the interim would have been be eliminated once
the Old Panda died. Or when the war ended. It had been a silent but mutual
understanding. They'd both known. So he didn't need to react this way, act like
a lost puppy or something equally weak and pitiful whenever the other man was
in his presence. He didn't need to. He really didn't need to.

"But I'm bored, so I'm going to follow you." The statement was said
with such conviction that Yuu realized that he no longer had any control over
the situation. It was such a Lavi thing to say, a Lavi thing to do, that
another pang hit his heart. He tried to ignore it, just as always, but it was
hard when the pain always seemed so fresh.

"Whatever," he said, trying to sound disinterested and dismissing.
Judging from the quick glance he caught of Bookman's face as he turned, he was
successful. That didn't make him feel any better, though. Actually, it tore a
bit at his chest in a way that he had not felt in a long time. That feeling
normally happened during fights or whenever he had said something that had
offended Lavi--had hurt him.

As he scoured the city for the remainder of the day, he heard the still
strange-to-his-ears gait of the Bookman following him. The man didn't talk, not
like his former persona, though he occasionally made comments on parts of the
city with historical significance. It was a habit that Lavi had sometimes
fallen into, and Yuu found himself hating it, just for being so familiar. It
grated on his nerves, and by the time the two of them stepped into the cool
tunnels of the Underground to return to Lenalee's home, Yuu was as strung up as
a mouse trap.

Once again storming through the front rooms and into his own, Yuu ignored
Lenalee's worried looks as he passed. A moment later, as he pulled a pillow
over his face to block out all senses, he heard the door to the room next to
his open and close. Yuu pushed the pillow closer to his face, cutting off air,
but not sound, he was too paranoid to just lie there defenseless. Light
footfalls on the wooden steps outside his room alerted Yuu to Lenalee's
presence. The footsteps paused momentarily outside the heavy wooden door
leading to Yuu's room. He held his breath, remembering that he had forgotten to
lock it and hoping the Chinese woman would decide it would be better to leave
him alone. He let the breath escape as he heard Lenalee shuffle away.

He heard a light tapping noise and wondered why Lenalee would go out of her way
to talk with Bookman. Yuu was surprsied by how thin the walls to his room
where. He could hear every movement the stranger made as he shifted a chair and
walked slowly to the door. Yuu almost felt bad listening in on their
conversation, almost, because as soon as that tiny flicker of guilt was born in
the back of his mind, he heard what the two former friends were discussing.

"I demand answers, Bookman. I have given you food and a place to stay, so
the least you can do is tell me why you're still here--why you are here in the
first place. I want to know why you left us on the battlefield, and don't give
me that stupid, 'I had things to do' excuse, because we all know that nothing--nothing--is
more important to you than history. So why?"

There was a small silence, so Yuu lifted the pillow from his face and brought
his head closer to the wall dividing the two rooms.

"Yuu," Bookman replied softly, almost too quietly for the Japanese
man to overhear. For a second, he thought he'd heard incorrectly. "I
couldn't leave him--while you were... doing the hero thing, I was searching for
him. I..." There was a raw, emotional sound to Bookman's hushed voice that
Yuu couldn't quite place, but the small, strange noise that followed made him
realize that the redhead was currently trying not to cry.

Lenalee made a sympathetic noise that was muffled by the wall. "You
thought he was dead, too," she said solemnly. The dark-haired man tried to
ignore the strange, clenching feeling in his chest--the place his heart had
once been before it had been ripped out. It made him remember exactly why he
had left so quickly.

"I am not objective, Lenalee, not when it comes to you and Allen, Komui,
everyone. But I can pretend to be. I traveled around the world as a Bookman,
doing my duty, but when I saw Yuu--I grew an attachment so strong to him that
I... my 'things to do' became going somewhere private so I could grieve.
I was a mess, Lenalee. I still am."

The subject of their conversation was frozen in place, ear completely pressed
to the wall, an unbelieving expression written on his face. Lavi--Bookman,
rather--had a heart? He had cared? It had been an indulgence, though.

"We knew you hadn't died--Krory saw you walk off the battlefield--but it
hurt, knowing we'd never see you again. You may not have cared for us, but we
cared very much for you, heartless as you were--are," Lenalee said. Yuu
could already hear the tears forming in her voice, and there was a small
silence and a rustling movement before the conversation continued.

"You knew I cared. You have to have. It was blatantly obvious. You know
I fought the Old Panda almost every night because I was getting attached. You
know I had to leave. Lenalee, you know that if I had stayed, I never
would have left," Bookman said, his voice intense and burning with a
passion the Japanese man hadn't heard in it since the day the Old Man had died.

"Really? You hid so much from us. You know, Yuu-kun thinks everything was
fake."

There was a choking noise in the other room as Lenalee finished speaking.
"What?" Bookman spluttered, sounding quite unlike himself. Actually,
he sounded a bit like Lavi--not that Yuu was listening. It suddenly became too
painful, listening to them talk about him.

But he couldn't take his ear from the wall.

"Yeah, he doesn't talk about it, but I can see it. He was very kind,
actually, before you got here. Every time you two are in the same room, I see
the pain in his eyes. Almost every night, he has nightmares--no, I'd call them
terrors. When we go to his room to wake him, he's almost always calling for
you. You more than anybody should know he talks in his sleep. Allen and I sat
in one night, so that we could try to help him. What we heard... Bookman, you
tore him apart."

The Japanese man didn't like where the conversation was going, but he couldn't
admit to listening in by going and dismembering the two in the other room. He
couldn't leave, either. It was as if he was stuck in place, doomed to hear
everything and disgusted with himself for doing just that. It was rude,
something he looked down on.

"Well, what was I supposed to do, Lenalee? Give up what I aimed my whole
life to achieve?" Bookman sounded angry now. There was the sound of a
scraping chair and heavy footsteps. Yuu heard the door to the other room squeak
open.

"No," Lenalee replied. The door closed softly, and the footsteps
paced quietly back into the room.

"My business will be completed in about a week. I'll be gone after that. I
can't keep in contact, unfortunately, but if I'm ever in London, I'll stop by
again. Remember, I can't seem to rid myself of these attachments--the one to
Yuu the most."

The door opened again, followed by Lenalee's distinctive footfalls. Yuu was not
surprised when, a moment later, a knock came upon his door. He readjusted
himself on his bed, placing the pillow back over his face and hoping the
Chinese woman wouldn't enter. Now, more than before, he didn't want to talk to
her. He wanted her to leave him be and let him sort out his strange
reactions--the heightened heartbeat, the warm feeling in his stomach, the
painful ache in his chest--from overhearing the conversation between her and
his former lover.

Yuu flinched when he heard her knock on the door. He shut his eyes in hopes his
hostess would think him to be asleep and would leave him in peace, but instead,
she walked in and shut the door, crossing the room to set herself into his
spare chair.

"Yuu-kun? Can I talk to you?" Yuu had been thinking about ignoring
her, but the doleful tone in her voice made him rethink that. Sitting up, he
looked over to his long-time friend, who was just a few meters away, on the
verge of tears.

He schooled his tone so that she would not detect his anxiety over the
overheard conversation. He tried to look appalled at the woman's tearful eyes
but failed, because she looked positively miserable.

"What's wrong?" Yuu asked, knowing that he would regret it.

"How can you stand it?" She asked, her voice cracking as the tears
finally began to descend her face, falling between the cracks of her hands and
landing with a small pattering noise on her legs.

"Stand what?" Yuu responded, his voice much less harsh than he had
meant for it to be.

"How can you stand to look at him everyday?"

Yuu suppressed a dry laugh, how often had he wondered about that himself?

"I just tell myself that none of it meant anything. It worked for him, so
it should work for me. I don't dwell on it." Thankfully, his words came
out evenly. He hoped to all the gods he had ever heard of that the Bookman was
listening just as Yuu had been minutes ago.

At his words, Lenalee let out a choked sob that may have been a bitter laugh.
She was smiling at him in the knowing way she always did. She knew he was
lying, she also knew why he was lying.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Yuu-kun."

What was Lenalee trying to get at? Was he just supposed to let himself fall
apart because he didn't have Lavi anymore? Was he just supposed to break down
because he couldn't stand the ache that seemed to permanently inhabit his
chest, in the exact spot where there had once resided a heart? Did she want him
to tell her just how much it hurt? Did she really want to know that?

"I have to tell myself something Lenalee. I have to pretend it
meant nothing so that I can go on with my life, because things are never going
to change. We have to accept it. Lavi is gone, he never cared, and he was never
real." A tiny tendril of his anger had seeped into his words, and he
could tell by the dark-haired woman's downcast stare that his words had hit
home.

She seemed to gather herself suddenly, standing up and smoothing her skirts.
There was not a single tear anywhere in sight.

"Gege and Kloud are coming over after dinner. We're going to play
Forfeits afterward, it would be great if you joined in."

Then she left his room, leaving him to stew in his misery until dinner.

---

"Of what is currently in your possession," Komui said solemnly,
acting more serious than he ever had during the war, "you must choose that
which is most important."

Kloud, who through some horrible misfortune had become Komui's wife, nodded
grimly, taking the young child on her hip and placing it just as somberly on
the table. Komui looked up at her, his expression aghast. The former General
shrugged nonchalantly. "She was currently in my possession--do you argue
my choice, judge?"

Komui shivered and shook his head, setting his beret down next to his daughter.
Yuu let his mouth upturn in the vaguest of smiles at the exchange. He enjoyed
seeing the former Director of the Black Order put into check. Lenalee walked up
to place the bracelet the Japanese man had noticed she rarely--if ever--removed
on the table, and Yuu unsheathed Mugen to follow suit. A moment later, Moyashi
followed, one-handedly unclasping a chain from around his neck. Lacking a left
hand, the Bean Sprout had chosen to wear his wedding band as a necklace.

Everyone stared at Bookman, who was very visibly hesitating. Silently, averting
his eyes from the crowd of annoyances, the redhead stuck his hand into his
breast pocket and produced a worn-looking length of red cord ending with a
tassle on both ends.

Yuu froze, his entire body seeming to shut down as he remembered the
significance of that "most important" possession.

"Bring that back to me or I'll kill you."

He'd given it to Lavi when he'd gone on that long-term mission just after
Timothy--damn that kid to hell--had joined the Order. They'd been together less
than three weeks.

"If I'm dead, how can you kill me?"

Lavi had taken it, wrapped the length around his wrist, and kissed him lightly,
sweetly, with no hints of anything deeper.

"I'll get the Earl to revive you."

Yuu had kissed him back, deepening the kiss and reveling in the fact that he
could make Lavi turn into a weak, silly pool of idiocy.

"That's not very nice, Yuu-chan."

Lavi had walked away with shaking legs, though his face showed just the hints
of a smile.

"Whatever."

When Lavi had finished the mission, he had refused to return the hair tie, stating
that he "wanted to hold onto it longer." The fact that he'd brought
another, almost identical hair tie back with him had appeased Yuu enough to let
the rabbit play his stupid game.

"Heavy, heavy hangs over thy head--" Komui's annoying tenor reverberated
in Yuu's head, effectively drawing him out from his memories, "--What
shall the owner do to redeem the forfeit?"

Looking above the Chinese man's head, Yuu saw the man's wife holding Moyashi's
wedding band. "Hmmm... how about... hug Kanda-kun."

Oh, dear lord, he sincerely hoped he had heard that incorrectly. Allen's sudden
ashen pallor, coupled with his horrified expression, made him doubt that
highly.

"I refuse," the white-haired man said calmly, though the true victim
of the forfeit heard an icy tone underneath, something softer but still akin to
the obstinance Allen used only with him. Komui chuckled darkly.

"So I suppose that means you won't get your ring back, then," Moyashi's
brother-in-law cackled, ignoring Kloud's attempt to whack him. The Bean Sprout
became, if possible, paler, and quickly walked up to Yuu, who stepped back,
distressed at the awkward turn of events.

Suddenly, there was an arm around his waist. He was pressed into the Bean
Sprout's still tiny frame and was quickly released. Yuu saw a streak of white
running, grabbing his chain, and exiting the room, before Yuu could even
register that Mugen was still on the table in front of him. As he was reaching
for it to go after the soon-to-be late Mr. Walker, his blade was whipped from
the table by Kloud.

"Ah, ah, ah," she scolded, fingering the whip she still carried with
her long after Lau Jimin's death. Yuu scowled at her angrily, making an attempt
to follow after the doomed Sprout, but this time, Lenalee grabbed his arm,
holding him back.

"If you kill my husband," she warned, her purple eyes flashing
dangerously, "I'll gut you and serve your remains to the neighborhood
dogs." Reluctantly, Yuu let his posture fall into a more relaxed position
and took a seat next to his hostess. A few minutes later, Moyashi returned,
his eyes darting about as if he still feared attack.

"One day, Moyashi..." Yuu growled, letting his threat hang in
the air until Komui cleared his throat noisily and cued for Kloud to put the
next object above his head. It belonged to the Chinese man.

"It's Allen," the white-haired brat muttered as Komui closed his
eyes, apparently thinking deeply.

"You have to babysit my children for a day," the Chinese man finally
said, opening his eyes and smiling expectantly. Kloud hit him upside the head
with his beret, and Komui's face deteriorated to a look of gloom.

Ah, retribution.

The next object was Mugen, and Yuu waited anxiously to finish his part in this
ridiculous game. Once his task was chosen and he had completed it, he could
leave the room and meditate--

"Er, say one thing you like about each person in the room," Komui
decreed, opening his eyes and seeing Yuu's scowl as it formed on the Japanese
man's face.

"Che. There is nothing for me to say," he bit out, knowing
that he'd be forced to comply but still hoping someone would take pity on him.
Luck was not with him, nor, apparently, was pity.

"Yuu-kun," Lenalee said, her tone every bit as warning as it had been
when she'd threatened him earlier. Her eyes glinted again, though this time, it
was as if she was telling him to play the game so he could get it over with.

"Kloud," Yuu began, his tone clipped as he resisted the urge to punch
everyone unconscious and leave the room with Mugen in tow, "you were a
General; Komui... you... are less of an idiot than you used to be; Moyashi--"

"--Allen--"

"--you married Lenalee, even though you don't deserve her; Lenalee, your
cooking is almost as good as Jerry's; Lavi..." Yuu froze. He had been
letting the words flow from his mouth as if they were a long, unfamiliar string
of curses, but that... He had said 'Lavi.' Everyone had heard it. And even if
he hadn't made that mistake, there was still the choice of what to say. He
couldn't very well say 'you fuck like a God' or something just as ridiculous
(even if it was true). 'Your incessant whining was somewhat endearing' also
didn't work. He wouldn't say such things in any case, game or not.

And then it struck him. Those were all Lavi, not Bookman.

"...was the only good part of you, Bookman," he finished, staring the
redhead straight in the eye and meaning everything he'd just said. His former
lover's face remained stoic, save for a tiny tick next to his left eye that
could have meant anything. Turning quickly on his heel, the dark-haired man let
his long jacket billow about him as he snatched Mugen from Kloud's grip. Before
he could exit the room, however, a hand caught his wrist, much in the way
Bookman's had restrained him earlier.

It was Lenalee, and she looked at him once more with pleading eyes.
"Yuu-kun," she said, her tone layered so deeply that the Japanese man
wasn't even sure what she was trying to instill in him. Sighing deeply and
resisting the urge to scoff loudly, Yuu pulled his arm from her grip and took a
seat at the kitchen table, scowling at the room at large.

The next person to go was Kloud, though Yuu was sure--not that he gave a damn
about the game now that he'd recovered his katana--Komui had known who it was
beforehand and had gone easy on her. After all, it was quite difficult to not
detect the distinct odor of baby-in-need-of-a-wash.

After her, though, was Bookman. And apparently, Komui was very good at guessing
whose item was above his head. It may have been that he had seen the almost
panicked but determined expression hit the owner's face, just as Yuu had. He
supposed it was the first emotion on Bookman's face that had been even close to
genuine since he had ceased to be Lavi. He was, of course, ignoring the slips
that the redhead had been having the first few days he'd been staying with
Lenalee.

"Tell us three truths about yourself," Komui ordered. Bookman's left
eye widened almost unnoticeably--his right seemed unable to move--as if he was
afraid or worried. His mouth opened just slightly, but he did not speak. Yuu
leaned forward in his chair, despite himself. The game had finally become
interesting.

Bookman sighed bracingly. "I don't remember my real name or anything
before the age of six, my favorite color is that shade that's just between dark
brown and black, and..." Bookman took another steadying breath and then
looked directly into Yuu's eyes. "...I never felt any attachment to any of
you." His right eye, immobile for so long, twitched just slightly.

No one ever knew Lavi was lying simply because they had never seen the one
indication. The redhead had always kept it covered, after all. It was bizarre
to Yuu that, after all this time, the man's body language was exactly the same.
And suddenly, the Japanese man was very, very angry, beyond livid, in the
realms of the inescapably furious. What gave Bookman the right to be here, to
insult his hostess by telling the most blatant lie? What gave Bookman the right
to traverse in and out of his life as he deemed fit? Why the fuck had
Lavi played with him like that, only to take it back? Why did he have to
be so strung up over a relationship that had been over for six years, six times
longer than the affair had actually lasted. The world took on the vaguest,
lightest of red hues, and Yuu had to try not to hit anything as he raged
through the room.

As he passed Bookman, though, he couldn't help but rub salt where it would hurt
most. "Your ticks haven't changed," he hissed as he stormed toward
the front door. His grip on Mugen was so strong he could feel the hilt shaking,
but he ignored that, instead focusing his energy on not attacking the few
people who were still out this late in the evening.

Sitting along the edge of the Thames, Yuu tried to calm his racing heart and
hoped he could meditate himself out of the sudden fury he was feeling. The
first step toward that was taking in his surroundings. He could hear the last
of the carriages that clipped down the street, drawn by the blinded, trained
horses that Yuu despised. The river itself was a beautiful steely gray, though
its color approached something far more inky with what little light the
streetlamps provided. The sun had long since set, alerting the mosquitoes and
various other insects that it was time to make far more noise than necessary.
The constant, never-ending sound was helpful, though, and the Japanese man
finally began to calm down. Placing his sword on his crossed legs for the first
time that night, Yuu let his eyes fall shut. First, he concentrated on the
sound, then the light breeze that followed the movement of the river. A moment
later, he heard the gentle wooshing noise of the water. He let his mind float,
almost as if it was being held up by the light waves that befell the body of
water below.

The clip-clopping of the carriages, the soft murmur of conversation, the
clicking of boots and heels all became obsolete, insignificant, as Yuu allowed
his mind and body to relax. Meditating in the dark probably wasn't the wisest
thing to do, but the dark-haired man let himself melt into the shadows and
forget everything. He knew he wouldn't fall asleep and that he could defend
himself should the need arise, so he let go of everything--of attachments and
illusions, of family and friends, of redheads and rabbits--until he finally
felt at peace. His shoulders felt lightened as if a great weight had been taken
from them, and his head lifted in a way that could have meant freedom for his
soul. But he went deeper, he needed deeper. The pain, the hurt, it was
still there. The hate was there, too, the hate he'd always felt and more--the
disliking of most things unfamiliar, the detestation of the person who had
branded him, left him an empty husk of the broken creature he'd already been.

He took a deep, relaxing breath and let it all go. Gone was the anger, and
gone, too, was the gut-wrenching revulsion he felt with all of his being for
the person who had betrayed him. All he could feel was the bugs around him, all
he could hear was the symphony of the night, all he could comprehend was the perfectness
of the world around him and how he would never fit in it as he was.

But he also felt alive, invigorated, as if he could fix himself and take away
the things that had made him far more bitter than he'd had the right to be. He
would find her--yes, that was the first step--and then he would settle down,
find a job. He would make attachments and see no more illusions. The reason for
his hatred would be gone soon, and once that had happened, he could let it all
go, just like he had done moments prior. It was an attainable goal, one he
could be somewhat happy with, and as he finally emerged from his meditation,
Yuu felt he finally had a purpose in life besides finding her. He felt
like he could stop living an empty life and surround himself with a warmth that
had not been there since he was five.

Yuu walked back down the block and entered the long-abandoned
sitting-room-kitchen area. Looking up at the clock, he noted the time--two
forty-one in the morning--and dragged his enlightened body up the stairs, down
the hall, and to his room, intending to collapse on the bed.

The only problem was that someone--some asshole who had spent three years of
his life trying to annoy the living hell out of Yuu, some bastard
who had then proceeded to spend the next six years haunting the Japanese man
until he could take it no more--was sitting on his bed, moonlight pooling into
the room through a gap in the curtains and landing in an ethereal way atop that
someone's head, making his hair color turn from red to an auburn-silver.

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Mea Culpa