Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray-man
AN: Wrote this when I was working on 'I Feel Pretty' and I got this random hankering to do a more in-depth piece about Lavi. This is just my attempt at trying to get into Lavi's head space. Not really any warning for this one outside of a bit of language.

Becoming Lavi

When he originally chose the name Lavi, he wasn't particularly thrilled with it to be perfectly honest. Sure, it is a pretty cool sounding name, and it does have a nice meaning, which is "lion" in Hebrew, but it just never seemed to click. Of course, that is probably because of the fact that "Lavi" was designated to be the persona used for his very first long-term mission, so he spent only a little time choosing the label for it and opted instead to fully flesh out the personality attached to it. He deliberated on it for a while before deciding on what he saw as a stereotypical teenage boy. Nice, funny, teasing, carefree, girl-crazy, a bit childish, kind of an idiot, the whole shebang. He had played around with this type of personality in the past a few times and he found it to be a lot of fun. At the time he couldn't wait to try his hand at being "Lavi" for a while. However, like all artists, he puts a bit of himself into his works. Since this particular identity would have to be a masterpiece to fool the Black Order for so long, he put a little more of himself into "Lavi" than is his norm. More than he should have, in fact. He didn't realize the problem with that for way too long as it was subtle and insidious thing, like some kind of cancerous growth slowly snaking malicious tendrils through his brain. The longer he remained ignorant of it, the larger it grew, compounding on itself without him noticing until it was much too late to do anything about it. It isn't until years later while eating dinner in the Order's mess with his friends that it hits him like a bad case of the flu.

Halfway through a plate of spaghetti, he realizes that holy crap, he is turning into Lavi! He is going native! Hell, he has friends, legitimate friends like Bookman warned him against, friends that he no longer has to play the part of "Lavi" in front of because he no longer has to act!

His fork drops onto his plate with a clatter that is vastly out of proportion with the action causing it. His friends (good god, friends!) look at him with mild concern. He fakes having just remembered something he'd forgotten to do, some excuse or another flowing past his lips without consulting his overtaxed brain. Lie naïvely, no, trusting accepted since they seem to have been real friends for quite a while now, he rushes out of the hall and straight to the bathroom to wash his face because he is seriously sweating buckets, has Komui been messing with the furnace again? As he soaks a towel in a sink full of cold water, he catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror. Lavi looks back.

The sodden towel falls to the floor with a dull splat, the sound of which is not nearly dramatic enough to fit the situation. He freezes, staring at the pale, shivering image in the mirror, wide eye fixed on the face of this strange person that he has just now realized he is becoming. He gazes into the blank, terrified visage of a reflection that he doesn't quite recognize, a person that is not him and never should be him but will be soon enough.

The sheer absurdity of the situation suddenly hits him, forcing him to let out a peal of hysterical laughter that echoes loudly through the tiled room. It sounds a bit like forty-eight other people are laughing with him, or more likely at him. It quickly degrades into a bitter chuckle. He really should have picked a better name. Looks like it'll be sticking around for a while.