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How to Save a Life	By : saxonjesus Category: +. to F > D. Gray Man Views: 4511 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: We own nothing. The D. Gray-verse is only our playground, we make no profit from our littlle adventures.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter Two--I Love College

Identity, with its appropriate attachments of psychological reality, is always identity within a specific, socially constructed world.

---- Peter Berger

September 4

His alarm clock went off, pulling Lavi back into himself.
Abruptly, he realized his persona was far away, screaming at him in the depths
of his mind, and he pulled it back into place, trying to fill in the cracks
that had somehow appeared between the previous night and the morning. The
second thing he noticed, as he pried his eye open to reach up and stop his
alarm, was that Kanda was there, next to him, asleep. Curled
up. With an arm around Lavi's waist. And his forehead against Lavi's chest. His heart skipped for
a moment. Wait, what? How had that happened? Why had that
happened? Pulling himself away as quickly as possible, Lavi rose unsteadily to
his feet and jumped over Kanda's stirring body and onto the floor. Half-sprinting
across the room, the redheaded apprentice grabbed his shower kit and peeled off
toward the shower, not looking back as Kanda uttered something he chose not to
hear.

Turning the shower's knobs a bit more aggressively than
he should have, Lavi tried to stop the shaking that had begun in his hands.
Just what the hell had happened? He didn't remember drinking anything, and
neither of them had been naked, but there was still a chance that something had
happened. How else could they have ended up like that? He must have slipped.
That was the only possible conclusion, because his persona had been completely
absent when he had awoken. It had been pissed at him for something; that had to
be it. How would he face the black-haired boy? What would Bookman do? Oh God,
what would Bookman do? Lavi's mind went straight into panic mode as he took his
loofah sponge and started scraping at his skin,
rubbing himself raw in his desperation not to lose it. Already, his pulse was
too fast, and by the time he got to the shampoo, his breathing had become far too
rapid for his enjoyment.

The worst part was that he couldn't remember what had
happened--not even the slightest clue. God, he didn't even care about sex--he
wasn't allowed to--so why the fuck would he be doing anything like that anyway?
Rubbing conditioner through his hair and blinking as some dripped into his eyes
with the streaming water, Lavi took a few deep, cleansing breaths. He was
definitely not 'Lavi' right now, nor was he 'Bookman,' so he didn't quite know
what he was, but he knew he shouldn't exist and that he needed to get back to
being 'Lavi.' Right now. His persona fell over him
like a cold, familiar blanket, and he relaxed into it, glad he didn't have to feel
anymore.

He stepped cautiously into the room, afraid he'd be at
the end of Kanda's sword. Thankfully, though, the boy in question was on his
bed, staring intently down at whatever he was currently sketching. Kanda was
always sketching, though this time, he looked slightly
more concentrated, as if he was contemplating something very difficult--like
trying to remember all the names of Tutankhamun's
slaves. He was also muttering to himself--something about nutmeg and vanilla
extract. Lavi's stomach growled in response, and the redhead felt himself flush
as he hurried over to his drawers and quickly found some clothes. Grabbing his bookbag filled with notebooks, Lavi dashed off to his first
class, retreating once again from his room.

Two weeks passed in something akin to a routine. Lavi got
up early for his 8AM classes and returned late at night. The entire time, they
ignored each other, only speaking when necessary. Of course, necessary for
'Lavi' meant annoying chatter, but it had diminished in its frequency, and
there was an icy divide between them. Neither of them mentioned how they had
awoken that one day, and though it couldn't slip from Lavi's Bookman-trained
mind, he could easily ignore it as much as possible.

It didn't help that they had Geology together. The first
time they'd seen each other there, they'd stared, and Kanda had glared at him
so viciously that Lavi felt twin beams shooting lasers through his head. Each
time after The Incident, though, it had become worse. The first Tuesday after,
when Lavi walked into class, he'd sent a not-so-covert look at his roommate,
only to see the other boy scowling back at him, both his arms and legs crossed
in a testy look of anger. He walked past Kanda, letting the awkward silence
flow like electricity between them as usual, and took a seat at his desk,
which, thankfully, was at the back of the room. He spent the entire class
staring at the back of Kanda's head, taking in each detail--the slight
near-blue sheen his hair sometimes took when the fluorescent lights shone on
him in just the right way, the way he tilted his head slightly to the right
while he wrote, the veins that stuck prominently from his right hand as he
scribbled what Lavi could barely make out as Kanji--and wondering how he hadn't
noticed any of that before. At the end of class, Kanda ran out, books in hand
and scowl on face. The same thing happened each time they had class together, until
finally, two weeks after The Incident, Lavi followed
him lazily, deciding to skip the rest of his classes. He knew it all, anyway.
Besides, there was no lab attached to Bio today, just... boring lecture about
messenger RNA and how ribosomes made proteins.

He took his time walking back, strolling leisurely across
the quad and gazing at the trees as the barely-changing leaves swayed in the
wind. With the sun shining through the canopy underneath which he walked, Lavi
paused, thinking that perhaps there was beauty in this world, even if it was
only in the form of those ever-changing leaves.

And then he realized what he was thinking. Dazed, he
stepped to the side, staring down at his hands in wonder. He had lost
objectivity once again. The sounds around him blurred, losing their normal
crisp quality. They swirled around him, bringing with them color and smell and life.
It was confusing, but the blur, too, was beautiful, and Lavi couldn't help but
admire that as well. Life was good, wonderful, even. It was so full of the
crisp smell of approaching autumn, the gorgeous yellow-green of the morphing
leaves, and the bells from the nearby tower striking an out-of-tune melody,
spreading it about campus. Even the loud yell that was quickly approaching
could be ignored as long as�

Ow.

His wrist hurt.

Oh, fuck.

Bookman was going to kill him. It didn't matter that the
bone didn't feel broken--Bookman was still going to kill him, probably for
maiming his wrist in the first place. Dimly, he noticed he was on the ground, a
bike over his now aching wrist and someone scraped and bleeding standing over
him as he blinked up, light filtering into his eyes as he squinted against the
sudden... bright...ness...

Oh, holy flying fuckmachine
eating penguins. Righting his eye patch and hoping no real damage had been done
to his unaccustomed eye, Lavi sat up, fighting against the pain that throbbed
its way through his left wrist. It wasn't really a problem for him--he was
ambidextrous anyway--but Bookman would still kill him. He had injured himself.
Trying to keep his breathing steady, Lavi sat up, ignoring the kid who had run
over him, and ran full-tilt back to the dorm. He didn't stop until he had
slammed the door behind him, clenching his wrist as tears streamed down his
face. He was hyperventilating already, the thoughts swirling dangerously fast
through his head, not allowing him to take in all the details--like Kanda
putting something into his mouth and then taking a sip from his water bottle.
All that Lavi could think was "I am dead" or some other equally
morbid variant of that thought. And it surged through his mind, hitting corners
he didn't know he had, striking at personas that had long since been discarded.
The thoughts hit Lavi, and Lavi slipped away. The thoughts hit Bookman, and
Bookman, too, dropped from his mind.

It was blissfully lonely in his mind. Just
him and his bouncing, jumping thoughts that wouldn't let him free. He
clutched at his wrist and let the tears roll even though he didn't know why
they were coming in the first place. Fear? Pain? He didn't know. He couldn't care. Quickly, Lavi
scrambled onto his bed, agitating his injured wrist in the process, and curled up
into a little protective ball. Bookman couldn't get him if he didn't let the
old man near him.

"Barricade the door," he whispered to himself,
blocking off the entrance to the room in his mind. He imagined chairs and
bookshelves and desks and even the box full of his logs. But there was another
entrance, too...

"The window!" Lavi
shouted without meaning to, and he went about doing the same thing to the
window inside his head, knowing just the same that he was not actually helping
himself at all but still feeling better for his mental efforts. Soft, cool
hands with delicate, slender fingers that carried strange calluses fell with a
light pressure onto his ink-stained, burning ones. They held him still, pulled
him close to reality while keeping him safe. When he blinked and looked away
from his knees, he saw Kanda's face. The normally hard, scowling expression was
absent, replaced with something as soft and gentle as his hands. Vaguely, he
noticed Kanda's lips were moving, forming words that, for some reason, he
couldn't hear. His ears weren't working. Another thing to
fear. If he couldn't hear, he couldn't record sounds, learn languages, speak
properly. But Kanda's expression was soothing, calm, and Lavi couldn't help but
relax a little. Bookman had his needles, but Kanda had a sword and muscles to
prove that he could use it. Calluses, too, though there were
still a few in the middle of his palms and down the length of his right pointer
finger that didn't make sense. Lavi had no illusions that Kanda wouldn't
protect him, not when his face looked like that--so tender and kind and caring.
He liked that face. He wanted to see it more.

Slowly, he let his breathing calm, concentrating on
taking long, deep breaths. Then he relaxed himself from his tight, defensive
position, leaning slightly into Kanda, who took him into his arms despite the
coldness that had been between them since the night of The Incident. Kanda's
chest was very, very warm, and his heartbeat was metronomically
steady, rhythmic even. Lavi pressed his ear to Kanda's chest just so he could
hear it more clearly. The Japanese boy squeezed him slightly, keeping him safe.
But Lavi couldn't stay like that. He wasn't being objective, and though he
couldn't quite manage his persona yet, he wasn't ready to give in to whatever
he was just yet.

"Th-thanks,
Yuu-chan," Lavi said unsteadily, hating himself for the quiver in his
voice. That didn't sound very 'Lavi'-like, nor did it sound objective in the
least, but it was the best he could do at the moment, he
supposed. Extricating himself from the other boy's arms, he pulled back,
smiling lightly in a ghost of his usual expression.

The boy nodded. "You're being genuine," he
murmured. Lavi looked away, but he heard the rustle of blankets and the squeaking
of springs as the mattress moved and he was once again left alone. Leaning
forward, pain shot through his wrist, and he gasped out, surprised that he had
forgotten his injury.

"Are you alright?" Kanda asked from across the
room. Though surprised at the sudden break in the fortnight-long silence, Lavi
couldn't help but answer the question--not because that was what 'Lavi' would
do, but because he wanted to. That scared him a little.

"I... hurt my wrist," Lavi responded quietly.
"Bookman's gonna kill me. I don't think it's broken, though." He
laughed humorlessly and grinned wryly, adding, "small
miracles."

Kanda grunted, and Lavi looked up as he heard more
rustling of blankets. As usual, Kanda was reaching under his quilt--one time,
when Kanda had been out of the room doing the things that made him return
smelling of blood and peroxide, Lavi had checked under it, and the Japanese boy
had a veritable stash of, well, everything there--though what he
produced was not another charcoal pencil for his already open sketchbook, but a
small roll of elastic wrap. Slowly, the boy stood up, walking over toward Lavi.
The redhead watched with vague interest as the boy approached, his scowl not as
deep as it usually was. It reminded him of the expression Kanda sometimes wore
when he was sketching in his second notebook. Early on, Lavi had noticed the
other boy kept two very separate sketchbooks, though whenever he looked for the
second one, he could never find it. He assumed Kanda always had it on his
person. The first sketchbook, however, disturbed Lavi somewhat.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out that Kanda cut
himself, though the boy was so blatant about it that Lavi figured it was for
attention. The drawings made him question that a little bit. There were days
when Kanda just scribbled and scribbled until the entire page was black with
the graphite of his pencil. Other entries included faces that Lavi had never
seen. The most prominent drawing, though, was the one of the lotus flower. Lavi
didn't know what it was, but it gave off an intimidating, fear-inducing aura. Which was why he hadn't touched it yet. It shook sometimes,
and Lavi had quickly connected the timing with Kanda's disappearances from the
room. Usually, those disappearances meant he was out self-mutilating, as he
often returned with droplets of blood on his clothing and a bottle of peroxide
in his hand. So they were connected in some way. Lavi wasn't quite sure how,
but they were, and he would definitely have to keep an eye on it. The redhead
usually checked through the sketchbook every few days, and just recently, he'd
seen one of a bed. The day before, he'd seen an intricate design of chains.

Lavi was snapped back to the present as pain once again
shot through his wrist. Looking up--his head had drooped a bit while he
thought--Lavi saw Kanda examining his injury closely, prodding it.

"Sprain," the boy grunted, taking the elastic
banding and wrapping it slowly and securely around Lavi's wrist. The redhead
smiled down at him--he was taller, after all--even as he wondered why the fuck
the boy was even doing this for him. Kanda had made it very clear that he hated
Lavi. Even though he usually ignored that. Still, he
couldn't help noticing how long and dark Kanda's eyelashes were. It wasn't his
fault they fanned out at just the right angle for viewing as the long-haired
boy worked smoothly and steadily on his bandage. Lavi stayed silent the entire
time, transfixed by the Asian boy in a way he'd never been before.

"Yuu?" He asked as
Kanda shifted to get off the mattress. The Japanese boy grunted again, raising
his eyebrow just slightly. Anyone not Bookman-trained wouldn't have seen it. It
was the subtlest of expressions, one that Lavi was sure the other boy wasn't
even conscious he was making. It was... Lavi didn't know how to describe it.
For the first time in his life, he couldn't come up with a descriptive word.
Desperately, he cast his mind around, still coming up with nothing.

"What?" The boy asked,
his tone nasty. However, underneath that scowling exterior, Lavi was sure he
heard something genuinely curious.

"Er, thanks," Lavi
said, raising his bandaged wrist awkwardly. That wasn't what he had meant to
say. Actually, he hadn't meant to say anything. He should have said something
about how he loved 'Yuu-chan' forever and bowed down at his feet, or maybe he
should have hugged the boy and offered to braid his hair. But with that.. tender undertone and vulnerable
look on his face--yes, those were the words, maybe--those responses just seemed
so... wrong.

"Che." The
Japanese boy turned the other way, hitting Lavi with his ponytail, and walked
back to his bed. But the way he held himself was less stiff than it had been
when he'd walked over.

They sat in silence for a while, neither saying anything
even though they didn't go back to what they had been doing. Lavi felt something
strange coursing through his chest, something warm and vaguely fuzzy, like a
bath sponge. It felt good, like there were no worries in his life, as if
Bookman was a fictional being that only haunted his dreams. Speaking of...

"Have I been... very vocal... in my dreams?"
Lavi asked, dreading the answer.

Kanda stirred on his bed, raising his head to catch
Lavi's gaze. For some reason, Lavi felt as if his bath sponge had gotten just
slightly warmer. "You scream," Kanda said shortly, looking away again,
taking the heat with him.

Ice flowed through Lavi's veins. If he screamed, that was
bad. He tended to talk in his sleep, and if he was screaming things that were
supposed to be secret� Just what had he...

He ran over to Kanda's bed, eye wide and panicked, and
grabbed the other boy's shoulders, shaking them slightly. Kanda tensed and
flinched away, but Lavi kept a firm hold on him. The wrist he could get away
with, but telling secrets, even if it was unconscious...

"What did I say?" He asked urgently, staring so
intently at Kanda that he rather felt he forced the other boy to look at him.
"Please tell me I didn't say anything when I screamed."

The Japanese boy shook his head gravely, his frown going
deeper. Lavi was still ice cold, and he could feel the tremors begin. Bookman
really was going to kill him. There was no way he could avoid this.
"Needles--you talked about those a lot. Ants, too, and
spiders. The rest was just crying out, pleading with Bookman, and a few
things about burning, if something was deep enough...?"

"How often have I screamed?" Lavi asked. Kanda
looked away, but Lavi grabbed his chin--causing the boy to flinch--and pulled
it back so that the Japanese boy was forced to look at him again.

Though Kanda averted his gaze, he answered in a gruff
voice, "almost every night for the past week. It started the night
that..." Kanda trailed off, and the redhead understood. The
Incident. He didn't want to know what he'd done in his nightmare-induced
haze that had forced Yuu into his bed, probably against his will.

"Sorry I've been ruining your sleep," Lavi said
sheepishly, awkwardly, surprising himself when he
realized he actually meant it. The sponge was getting warm again, despite his
frigid fear.

"You haven't," Kanda replied, still looking
away. That... soft expression was back, the one that he had described
before as vulnerable. But that wasn't quite right. It was soft, but it was
definitely strong at the same time. It was Yuu. It was... making Lavi very,
very hot, like the bath sponge had just been thrust under boiling water.
"You've ruined everyone else's, though," Kanda added with a smirk.

"Ne, Yuu-chan?"
Lavi asked, and the boy in front of him grunted in acknowledgment of his name.
"D'ya wanna
get lunch sometime?"

He didn't know where the question had come from, but it
was sincere, a fact that was both distressing and invigorating to him, and Lavi realized how much he really wanted to
get to know Kanda. Really get to know him. Not the stupid hugging shit
and prying he did as 'Lavi,' but the real, bonding-chat and nighttime
conversation stuff that he'd only seen others do. Bookmen couldn't take part in
it, but right now, Lavi was as far as he'd ever been from being objective.

Kanda scoffed again, but he nodded, and that fuzzy
feeling was back, a bit too warm. Lavi found he liked it.

"I'll have to be 'Lavi,' of course, but if you don't
mind, I'll try to be myself in the dorm as much as possible," he said.
Kanda nodded again, taking out his sketchbook and backing up so that Lavi was
no longer touching him. Lavi took that as his cue to back up as well and return
to his bed, so he did. They sat for a while in silence, Lavi scribbling away at
his logs and Kanda looking up intermittently as he drew something, until a
knock came at the door.

Lavi sighed and got up from his bed, painting 'Lavi' back
over the wall that was his true psyche, and went to answer the door. Bookman
didn't even wait for him to open it, simply letting himself in, knocking Lavi
back as the door hit his face. He walked in, ignoring his fallen apprentice,
and headed toward the box the redhead still kept by his bed. It was the one
that included all of his Bookman stuff--logbooks and the like.

"Niceta see you, too, you
old panda," Lavi muttered sarcastically, clamping a hand to his now
bleeding nose. His left hand still throbbed a little beneath the bandage, and
Lavi tried to ignore it as he came up behind the tiny man.

He was once again flung aside as Bookman charged to the
other side of the room, aiming a punch at Kanda before Lavi could even make a
sound of protest. The Japanese boy didn't see it coming--obviously, as he
didn't dodge the attack at all. The lotus flower above Kanda's head shook as
Bookman's strike hit. Lavi noticed how the old man's eyes glanced up for a
brief moment before returning to the stunned boy beside him.

"What the fuck was that for, old man?" The
black-haired boy exclaimed, going for his blade. With reflexes that would do
the Japanese boy proud, Bookman shot out his hand, grabbing Kanda's wrist
before he could even touch his sword's hilt. From the minute twinge on Kanda's
face, Lavi assumed that the old man's grip was bone-crushingly tight. Lavi knew
he had to do something before this got bad, and bloody.

"Bookman! No! Yuu-chan
helped me! I got run over by an asshole on a bike!" Lavi shouted as he
threw his arms around the tiny man who was threatening his roommate. For some
reason, it hurt to even imagine Kanda injured at the hands of his Master. Or at the hands of anyone. His chest throbbed with an
unknown emotion, and he ignored it, determined to wrestle Bookman--who was
surprisingly strong--to the ground, where he could be reasoned with. A punch
hit his face, blackening his one good eye, but Lavi ignored that, too. He
grunted as he pinned Bookman's arms to the floor, sitting on the tiny man's
stomach to gain leverage. The old man struggled, kicking a booted leg with too
much strength into the small of Lavi's back. Eyes watering, Lavi grimaced and
shifted his weight so that Bookman couldn't move at all. The entire time, his
wrist throbbed murderously.

"Lavi, if you slip like this again, you know what
will happen," the old man warned in a wheezing, tired voice. Lavi froze,
fear striking his heart and stopping its rhythmic movement. Yes, he knew what
would happen. And that threat in itself was enough to make him roll off of
Bookman and dash from the room, not caring what Kanda got from the
conversation. He was scared, probably too scared, but Bookman had once said
that those in his profession were allowed to feel fear. Which
was good, because Lavi's heart had broken from its stasis and was now pounding
a mile a minute to make up for its earlier failure.

Navigating the dorm's hallways with cool efficiency, Lavi
broke up to the rooftop and gasped out a loud breath. He panted
as he collapsed against the wall and made his way over to the railing. He would
not suffer that punishment again. He had perfected his personas, so
whatever was happening now would never happen again. Ever.
Even if he had to kill Yuu to accomplish that.

That thought hurt, so he steered clear of it. Yuu, dead. That was too horrible to think of, so instead, he
thought of meditating exercises he had seen in a book in Kanda's pile of shit
underneath his covers. Though he didn't have a pillow, it was still plenty
bright out. Sitting cross-legged on the cold concrete, Lavi let out a breath
and tried to calm his racing heart. He didn't want distractions. A moment
later, he let his eye fall mostly closed--which wasn't hard, as it was swelling
to the size of a balloon--and took a few more deep breaths, trying to
"cleanse his soul." Then he let his mind wander, float out into the
"world beyond consciousness." A small part of his mind scoffed, but
he hit it with a hammer and told it to shut up.

He heard the door open and knew it was Bookman. The old
man sat down in front of him and sat in a similar fashion, allowing his
panda-like black-lined eyes to fall into a position similar to Lavi's bruised
one. It had been a while since they'd sat in silence and meditated together,
and Lavi enjoyed it, despite knowing that a conversation would eventually be
struck and that he'd be punished for, well, everything.

Bookman didn't wait very long before bringing it up.
"Was it 'Lavi' who was defending the boy, or was it you?"

Dropping his gaze, even though he knew it was a terrible
idea, Lavi whispered, "I don't know." Bookman raised a stormy gray
eyebrow, and Lavi continued. "Part of me doesn't give a shit, and that's
how it should be. 'Lavi' doesn't give a
shit. But I don't want Y--Kanda to get hurt for something he didn't do.
It's... not fair. I don't know if I mean that objectively or not, but Kanda
doesn't deserve that. You've read my logs. I don't know whether he does it for
attention or not, but something obviously happened in Kanda's past,
and..." he drifted off, shrugging. He didn't really know what else to say.
It sounded like he cared, even though he didn't.

His Master made a noise that Lavi couldn't quite make
sense of, but he waited for Bookman's wisdom. "Watch but do not get
attached. I will allow your behavior today, but do not involve yourself further
with that boy." Standing up, Bookman sighed and left. The door closed
quietly behind him.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Lavi stood as well,
heading back to his room. He ignored Kanda and his very nearly expectant look
and sat on his bed. He flinched as he put too much pressure on his wrist and
gasped when he heard it crack. He heard a rustle from Kanda's side of the room,
and a second later, the Japanese boy sat on his bed, hand outstretched with a
small orange pill between thumb and forefinger.

"Ibuprofen?" Kanda
asked. Lavi managed a small smile and reached out with his right hand to accept
the pain pill. He needed it. Reaching for his water bottle, Lavi quickly downed
the medicine and sat back on his pillow, which was against the wall.

"Thanks, Yuu-chan," Lavi muttered, closing his
eye. The mattress depressed further as the Japanese boy switched positions,
probably to sit more comfortably. Lavi's stomach growled. The springs in the
mattress squeaked as it moved again, Kanda along with it. Lavi heard the boy's
purposeful steps--he always walked with an authoritative... swagger--across the
room. A strange sound that ended with a long, deep purr echoed quietly through
the room, but then it was cut off. From the smell of food that permeated the
air, Lavi supposed Kanda had opened the mini-fridge to take something out.
After more stepping sounds, Lavi felt something fall into his lap.

"Do you like frozen salad?" Kanda grunted as
Lavi opened his still swelling eye. Though it was now a bit sensitive to light,
the redhead could still see the long, dark strands that framed the Japanese
boy's face. He could also see the small Tupperware container of what looked
like salad dressing in the boy's hands. And a fork. Flicking his eye briefly to his lap, Lavi saw his frozen salad.
His stomach growled again. It looked good.

Even though it was frozen, the first bite still tasted
like heaven. Even though it hurt his teeth as he crunched down, Lavi thought it
was the best salad he had ever had. Living as a Bookman, though, he supposed it
probably was. Bookmen didn't exactly have the best budget. They scrounged most
of the time, living in inns or off the charity of idiotic do-gooders. Sometimes
they got a meal if they stayed in a "high-class" motel. One time,
they'd eaten out at a place that had menu prices over seven pounds. Lavi still
remembered exactly what that had tasted like, and he would for the rest of his
life. This chilling salad with its homemade dressing--probably courtesy of
Kanda's guardian--tasted better than any five dollar meal he'd gotten at any McFood Stand on the side of the highway.

Without meaning to, he told Kanda so. The boy's eyes
bugged out slightly. It was a very subtle change, but Lavi's keen eye saw it,
and he put down his fork as he chewed contemplatively.

"You've never had a decent meal?" Kanda asked
incredulously. Lavi swallowed and nodded.

"Well, I mean, the dorm food's
pretty good," Lavi said offhandedly. Was Kanda making fun of him? That was
a new experience.

"The dorm food is shit," Kanda scoffed. For
some reason, Lavi felt offended.

"What do you mean? It's delicious!" He
exclaimed, snapping his eye as far open as it would go and slamming his good
hand down in outrage. What did the Japanese boy know about food, anyway?

Kanda rolled his eyes and walked back over to his bed.
Reaching under the covers, he procured a sleek little cell phone. He flipped it
open, pressed a few buttons, and held it a few inches away from his ear.
Vaguely, Lavi wondered why.

"YUU-KUN!!!"

Lavi wondered no longer. Yuu-kun looked very
disgruntled as the voice Lavi had come to associate with that of the boy's
guardian yelled and wailed loudly over the speaker for a good three minutes.
When the bawling had finally subsided, Kanda held the phone next to his ear and
sighed.

"Tiedoll, are we still on for dinner tonight?"
After he had spoken, he once again held the phone away from his ear as if once
again anticipating his guardian's response.

"Of course
we're still on Yuu-kun! How could you even begin to think that I would stand up
my favorite adopted son for dinner?" Kanda rolled his eyes.

"I'm not your favorite, and I just wanted to see
where we were going and to tell you I'm bringing my roommate." There was a
pause on the other end of the line.

"Yuu-kun made... a friend?" The voice
sounded so incredulous that Lavi couldn't stifle his laughter, for which he was
rewarded with a sharp glare from the Japanese boy across from him.

"Che."

"Really, Yuu-kun? I'm so proud of you!"

Kanda's face looked horrified. "Where are we going, old man?" He
asked impatiently. There was a slight noise that Lavi couldn't classify as
either whimper or sniffle. A snimper,
maybe? Lavi couldn't hear the man's response; it was too quiet. But
Kanda looked ruffled and removed his phone from his ear in order to glare down
at it.

"I refuse to go there. It's shit. We're going somewhere more
expensive."

"Always such a critic," Tiedoll responded. "How
about Le Petit Pont?"

"I hate French food, you old bastard. There's a good Greek place
just down the street from there. That's where we're going."

"But Yuu-kun! That place asks for five pounds just for water!"

"Then don't order a drink," Kanda replied nastily, looking slightly
amused despite his tone.

There was once again a snimpering noise on the other
line, and a few moments later the man replied, "Fine, I'll make
reservations and we'll all be there at five. Oh, by the way, Daisya said he sent you a letter, did you get it?"

Kanda's face was a picturesque mask of horror, and Lavi was suddenly
overwhelmingly curious as to what might have brought about this abrupt change
from his roommate's almost constant reticence. He looked absolutely mortified.

"No. No, I didn't. It must have gotten lost in the mail," Kanda said
through gritted teeth. Somehow, he managed to keep his tone light and breezy.
Lavi's curiosity reached alarming heights. Cautiously, he stood up, carefully
putting his salad aside so he could finish it later, and walked past Kanda to
his bed. Reaching under the blanket, he found a letter-shaped object and pulled
it out. He had a moment to look up into Kanda's face before it was snatched
away and thrown promptly into the trash can. Lavi smirked and tried to follow
the letter's trajectory, but Kanda held out a restraining hand and scowled,
mouthing not now. Lavi nodded, looking at the boy expectantly. From the
set of Kanda's face, Lavi was sure the boy would tell him. It made his stomach
feel strange, almost fluffy. And warm. Very warm.

"Oh, okay, then, I'll just tell him to re-write it and hand it to you
at the restaurant."

"No." Kanda's horror was almost comical.

"Oh, come on, Daisya's harmless, and I think
he misses you."

"It's not my fault he's a retard," Kanda hissed. "Come to the
front entrance--it's closer than the back." With that, Kanda quickly
closed his phone, cutting off the conversation. Bringing his hand to his head,
Kanda pinched the bridge of his nose, looking resigned. Lavi walked back to his
side of the room with the intention of finishing his half-thawed salad. Sitting
back on his bed, he waited for his roommate to come and sit with him, but the
boy just walked back to his bed, sticking his arm--complete with cell
phone--back under the covers.

A moment later, though, Kanda returned to Lavi's bed, holding a small photo
album in his hands. He placed it silently in front of Lavi and opened it. The
redhead gaped. The first picture had several people in it, only two of whom he
recognized. The first was a frizzy-haired man that Lavi had seen bawling as he
walked out of the door on move-in day. The second was a slightly younger Kanda.
Lavi could only tell the difference because the boy's hair was a bit shorter.
Judging by the general lack of fabric to the clothing and the barely
distinguishable sheen of sweat on the photo's subjects, Lavi assumed it had
been taken over the summer, probably in July or August.

"My family," Kanda finally said gruffly.

"Oh, so you are adopted," Lavi said. The dark-haired boy nodded.

"Tiedoll--" He pointed to the frizzy-haired man, "--Marie and
his fianc�e, Miranda--"

"Marie is a strange name for a man," Lavi commented.

Kanda grunted. "His surname," he said.

"What happened to your parents?" Lavi interjected. They had probably
died, or maybe they had abused Kanda or something--that would account for both
the attention-seeking self-injury and the slight flinches from touches. Kanda
froze for a second too long and then looked down at the picture.

"Dead," he whispered, but his voice sounded too haunted not to
intrigue Lavi. But the redhead knew when to push, and now obviously wasn't the
time.

"I don't know mine," Lavi said in a hushed voice. "I don't
really remember much from before I was six. I just know I was on the streets,
'cause that's where Bookman found me."

The Asian boy froze again at the word "streets," and Lavi desperately
wanted to know what had happened. What scared him, though, was that the
curiosity wasn't objective. What scared him more was that he didn't want to put
the information in his record.

Kanda pointed at another boy, one with mousy brown hair and strange eye
make-up. "Daisya," he said,
a disgusted note in his tone.

Looking again at the picture, Lavi raised a red eyebrow. "Is that
Professor Lee?" He asked, pointing to a man with shoulder-length black
hair and a beret. He had his arms around a blushing girl with purple-brown
eyes. Though his glasses shone with the afternoon light, the man's eyes were
exactly the same shape as the girl's. Lavi suspected a relation. Thinking back
to his Biochemistry lectures, he was sure it was the man's sister, Lenalee. The
man talked about her almost religiously.

From the corner of his swollen eye, Lavi saw Kanda nod. "The man has a
ridiculous sister complex. That's Lenalee, his sister, and the one next to her
with the white hair is Moyashi."

Quickly, Lavi wracked his brain for the translation. Bean
Sprout. Probably a nickname. "Any
particular reason you call him that?" He asked innocently.

Kanda snorted. "Look at him. He's microscopic. I don't know what Lenalee
sees in him." Lavi chuckled and motioned for Kanda to continue. "Next
to him, with the red hair, that's Cross--he's Moyashi's guardian. He's
an asshole and a womanizer."

"And they allow that kind of person to foster a child?" Lavi asked, a
strange, almost outraged, emotion running through his system.

Kanda shrugged. "He keeps his... liaisons separate from his childcare. The
Black Order Childcare Services are lenient with him." Kanda shrugged
again, apparently at a loss for words.

Lavi took the photo album from the Japanese boy's hands and quickly flipped
through the pages. It was interesting watching time progress backward. It was
somewhat distressing that Kanda was not in any other the photos the farther
Lavi went back. There was only one by the time he reached the end. The photo
was of Tiedoll--the man had to have been at the most ten years younger--and
next to him was a much younger Kanda. Lavi had to make a double-take. The Kanda
in the picture was very similar to the current version but much smaller,
almost... fragile, and the look in the boy's eyes could not be mistaken as
anything other than fear. The two were surrounded by a large group of people,
the same group Lavi had seen in the previous photos. They were all smiling and
hugging Tiedoll as Kanda stood almost completely hidden from view behind the
crazy man's legs. It was something about the way Kanda held himself
that made Lavi realize that it wasn't for attention.

"You don't do it for attention, do you?" The question had simply
slipped out, he hadn't meant to voice his inner
interest.

The photo album was ripped from Lavi's grasp and quickly shoved under Kanda's
blanket. Lavi looked at the black-haired boy and received an icy glare in
return.

"Che. You think it�s for attention?"
Kanda's voice was dark and solid.

"Well, you never hid it, so I just assumed... but now that I see... well,
I'm sorry for thinking that." It surprised Lavi to note how much. Kanda
looked away, shrugging and scoffing in a manner that Lavi had already become
accustomed to, and ignored the redhead for a moment. Lavi thought it was some
kind of defensive technique, like when a hurt animal runs from its tormentor.
It was probably the most basic technique--forcing the mind away from something
it didn't want to think--and though Lavi had used it on numerous occasions,
something pulled at his chest when he thought of Kanda doing the same thing. He
wasn't exactly sure what that feeling meant, so he pushed it to the back of his
mind, defending himself from it until he understood it better.

They sat on Lavi's bed in silence for a while, neither seeming to know what to
say or how to break it. Without his persona, Lavi was comfortable letting the
awkward quietness fill the air. He didn't really know what to say, honestly.

"You don't have to... leave the room to do it," the redhead
apprentice said after a while, hoping the Japanese boy would take the
invitation. But Kanda didn't make a sound, nor did he move so that their eyes
were meeting again.

"You want to tell me to stop," Kanda finally said nearly a quarter of
an hour later. Lavi's left eye opened wide with shock. Where the hell had that assumption come from?

"No," he denied quickly, raising his hands from their position in his
lap (they were twiddling the plastic fork he'd used). "I don't, not at
all. Actually, I think you're kind of lucky... you're allowed to express
yourself. I can't even... the things I've thought about doing to
myself..." He couldn't finish that statement. Kanda wouldn't want to hear
it.

"Why haven't you?" It was a fair question.

"I'm a Bookman. All I have to do is just... compartmentalize the thoughts,
put a layer between me and them. If the Old Panda found out, well, there's worse things than cutting yourself."

"Needles?" Kanda guessed. Lavi froze,
dropping the fork that was still in his hands. He didn't want to talk about
that. Needles were bad. They were cold and sharp and could puncture anything.
They could be laced with sedatives or poison or nothing at all. They could
induce great pleasure and relaxation. Or they could induce pain. Lavi couldn't
count the times they had caused him pain. A slip here, a slip there, they
didn't really matter in the long run, but they still hurt him to think about.
Without meaning to, he began to shiver, deep, reflexive tremors that gave away
exactly how terrified he was.

And Kanda did something completely unexpected. He leaned forward and pulled
Lavi into his arms, placing a hand behind the redhead's neck and pulling the
apprentice's head onto his muscled chest. Lavi shook and shook, but Kanda held
him strong, and for once, the redhead didn't care about emotions or personas.
All he cared about was Yuu's strong arms holding him gently and Yuu's deep,
even breaths and calm heartbeats that lulled him back to a more relaxed state.
He didn't have to think, didn't have to analyze. He just had to be.

"Needles scare me," he confessed, and Kanda nodded, jostling Lavi on
his chest.

Eventually, Kanda pushed Lavi back, giving him an imperceptible glance before
getting off the bed and going back to his own. A moment later, his arm was
under the blanket, pulling out a pile of books. He proceeded to do homework,
and Lavi followed suit, for once comfortable with the silence between them,
until a knock came at the door. It was too strong to be Bookman's--his was
lower to the ground, anyway--and the rhythmic pattern of three was different
than his Master's usual two. Kanda rolled his eyes, stuffing his books back
under his covers, and walked over to the door. Sighing, he pulled it open,
admitting the tall, bulky frizzy-haired man with the thick-rimmed glasses that
Lavi remembered from his first day.

The man practically threw himself at Kanda, who looked almost comically like a
deer caught in headlights as he was tackled to the floor with a resounding thump.

"Get off me, old man!" Kanda grumbled angrily, looking as if he was
pushing at the frizzy-haired man's limbs with quite a bit of effort. His
attacker didn't move at all. Lavi found it all very funny, and a strange,
bubbly feeling made its way up his throat and out of his mouth. A foreign sound
hit his ears, and he realized he was laughing. Genuinely
laughing.

"Need some help there, Yuu-chan?" Lavi asked between giggles. Yes, he
was giggling. It disturbed him somewhat. He felt like a non-Bookman. He supposed
that others might feel like a girl, but he was always a bit different, so it
didn't matter.

The frizzy-haired man looked up from the floor and smiled at Lavi. With what
looked like a great deal of effort the man stood up and went to shake his hand.

"You must be Yuu-kun's roommate. It�s nice to finally meet you. I am
Yuu-kun's guardian; you can call me Tiedoll."

"Hiya, Tiedoll!" Lavi said, smiling as he
fixed his persona back into place. He tried to ignore Kanda's abrupt shift in
facial expression and drew the Japanese boy's guardian into an overly-friendly
hug with much back patting.

"Oh, Yuu-kun, I couldn't get reservations to the Greek place, sooo..."

Kanda growled. "You mean you didn't want to go there so you just went
ahead and made reservations at the French place," he said angrily,
shooting Tiedoll a glare that could eat through lead.

Tiedoll grinned sheepishly, though Lavi thought the man actually looked a bit
relieved, a fact he noted and put to the back of his mind for later use. He was
'Lavi' now; he would have to be analytical, and besides, Bookman would
probably...

As Kanda scowled at Tiedoll, who was stepping out of the room with his charge
in tow, Lavi grabbed his roommate's arm and pulled him aside. Tiedoll shot him
a strange look, but Lavi ignored it, leaning down slightly to whisper in Yuu's
ear, "hide your Lotus if you don't want Bookman to learn more about it.
I've written loads of theories about it in my logs, and I can mislead him that
way, but if he sees it again, he may start researching into it himself."

Kanda nodded and doubled back to the room, saying he'd forgotten his keys. A
moment later, they all left, both redhead and brunette sitting in the back seat
of Tiedoll's SUV as they drove toward what Lavi supposed would be his best meal
ever.

---

A/N: And we�re back! Sorry for the long time between
updates. We were lazy this week. And injured. And
sick. *sigh* Aaanyway, so�s
y�all know� we�ve added a quote to the beginning of the fic.
It�s from Em1�s International Relations textbook, and we thought it was
fitting. "There is no single objective reality, only multiple realities
based on individual experiences and perspectives." --Karen A. Mingst. Anyway, it�s posted with the first chapter now, so
yeah�

Now, there�s one reference to an inside joke we have. Earlier
in the chapter, Yuu mentioned Lavi once asked in his dream whether something
was deep enough. This actually comes from a video Em1 saw on Ebola. It was
about an outbreak in Africa and these doctors were patrolling through this
small village and they found dead people in a house and one of the doctors
touched the body with his gloves and so he had to take them off. They dug a
hole and the conversation with the wonderfully dubbed speech went thus:

--�No, not like that!�

--�There�s no other way!�

--�Is it deep enough?�

--�THINK OF THE CHILDREN!�

--�We must burn them!�

So yeah� it was funneh. (except for the part where people died of ebola)
^_^

Woot long A/N�.. anyway ONTO THE NEXT!
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