Chapter Text
“How did it start?” The question was biting, leaving no room for protests or excuses. Though Lavi had realized that a long time ago, and knew it was too late for him to lie anyway. He had to own up to what he did – what they did – consequences be damned. But the consequences were the part he was scared of the most; he’d fucked up this time.
He’d really fucked up.
Deep breath. “I- I’m not sure-.”
“Don’t you dare say you don’t know.” Bookman spat; Lavi had never seen him so furious in his life. “Don’t you dare act like you’ve learned nothing from me. I’ve taught you just about everything I know; tell me I haven’t wasted the last fifteen years of my life.” The redhead flinched.
His lack of self-control wasn’t helping his case, so he carefully tip-toed back into his persona, slipping it on like the exorcist jacket he would never have the chance to wear again. He straightened his back before relaxing back into the chair. It wasn’t the time for a goofy grin, no matter how happy-go-lucky he was supposed to be. Even his persona understood a serious situation when it came to one.
This time he was able to speak without stuttering. “You could say it began in the beginning.”
Bookman scowled at that, but it wasn’t as vehement as before, probably because Lavi was actually putting an effort into it. “Explain.”
“There was no helping it the moment I stepped off that boat. Now that I think about it, there really wasn’t any avoiding it. These people here… they’re different than everyone else. There is a fire here that doesn’t exist in any other part of the world we’ve been to.” Lavi spoke truthfully, but he avoided the subject Bookman actually wished to know about. “I know I can cut ties with them since it’s necessary but… I might need a little time.”
“That would be acceptable. If it were the case, I would give you a week. But you’ve gone much further than can be easily remedied. So tell me how this happened.”
“I-”
“You are my apprentice. Why did you let that boy get the better of you like this? Emotions have no play in the life of a Bookman. I told you that the day I found you dirty and broken in that alley.” Lavi balked at the reminder. “The walls I helped you build up shouldn’t have been tumbled so easily.”
Bookman was – for lack of a better term – Bookman. A keeper of records, the shadow on the edge of history, never quite stepping into it, but with information etched into the very bones of his being. He couldn’t even help scouring the earth for information, and if Lavi knew anything about his master, it was that the man would tear through what he said and try to find the why, something that Lavi himself couldn't even explain. It just sort of… happened.
Lavi thought about it. Bookman gave up the inch he’d leaned forward and let Lavi collect his thoughts. The redhead smiled sadly to himself. He opened his mouth and sealed his fate.
“Yuu is special.”
And he was.
┼┼┼┼┼
The boat protested softly when Deak placed a booted foot in it. He managed to shift toward the front and avoid being squeezed against Bookman. Before he could settle completely, the boat lurched forward, a grunt of surprise escaping the redhead’s mouth as he tumbled against the front bench. Bookman sighed.
His center of balance found, Deak reclined lazily against the side of the boat, wondering if this would be the last time he saw the sky. A dark tunnel was approaching them faster than his mind could keep up with and a heavy sadness crept in with it. The next time he went outside would be with a new pair of eyes, one that didn’t belong to the him of now. His breath caught in his throat as they sailed beneath the threshold of the Black Order.
Something soft hit him in the back of the head. He turned around and blinked back at Bookman, who nodded at the floor.
“Put that on.”
Deak looked down to find an eye-patch made of a dark and satiny material. He picked it up and gently slid it around his head.
It was strange at first, but the loss of depth perception seemed to release a pressure on his brain that he hadn’t even realized was there. He could definitely get used to it.
“Tell me; what is your name?”
He hesitated only a millisecond, but he knew Bookman would scold him anyway. “Lavi.”
“Too slow.”
“I know.” Deak turned away. “Just give me until we get off the boat. I will have it by then.” Bookman nodded in agreement. He had faith in his apprentice.
Deak mentally berated himself for being so unprepared. He’d known for four days, two hours and eleven minutes now, that they would be going to the Black Order to record the secret war. This time he’d been allowed to choose his name and define his personality, which was a step up and meant Bookman was happy with his progress. But he could tell he was already disappointing his master, and that needed to be fixed.
The darkness lit up intermittently with dim lamps nailed into the walls as if on a second thought. Deak imagined the light was his new self, illuminating the black of his old one. In this way, he slid much more easily into the beginning of his fresh life.
When the boat bumped against a stone walkway and a man with glasses and a beret smiled down welcomingly at them and the young redhead clumsily clambered off after Bookman, it wasn’t Deak that eagerly shook Chief Komui’s hand or blinked up at the light cascading down the stairs, but an energetic and sly Lavi, cracking a joke to ease the tension of an imminent war that they had just voluntarily become a part of.