Title: Chasm

Rating: PG-13ish

Genre: Derp... action/adventure/angst/mindfuck?

Summary: Within an underground chamber, Lavi discovers more about himself by conversing with the substance of a God in which he did not believe. Set during chapter 37 of Bookman. Extra.

Author's Note: In chapter 37 of Bookman, Lavi is gone for a long period of time, wherein Bookman can hear and see absolutely nothing at all. Just like in chapter 21, the events that transpired were such a mystery, even to me, that I decided to fill in the gap there and explain exactly what exactly happened. So here you guys go: a double update to show my love.

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Chasm.

A noun that can be defined as 1) a deep cleft in the surface of the planet, such as a gorge and 2) a marked division, separation or difference.

-Merriam Webster

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First of all, I didn't want to go.

They lowered me down into the dark by a rope that swung too much and seemed a little too thin to be supporting my weight, but that was just my own honest opinion and Lavi's passing thoughts. As if being thrown into an unknown situation wasn't bad enough, then I had that weight on my shoulders: wondering if the length of hemp would snap and send me crashing to my premature death inside an abysmal chasm. These thoughts moved through my head rapidly, only intensified by Lavi's active consciousness, as my eye struggled to become accustomed to the dark. The dank, damp smell of the place assaulted my nose and I wrinkled it in distaste. The acrid air itself was still and heavy with age, making it almost like a pressure on my chest. I clutched the rope tighter, feeling as if I couldn't get enough air.

I mentioned before that I didn't want to go in the first place. When I touched down onto the ground and felt the cool, smooth tumble of sand beneath me, I knew for sure that I didn't want to be down there. I tugged on the rope and they stopped giving me slack, leaving me without motion or sound, alone in the dark. Lavi shuddered inside my head and his sudden fear melded with mine so that I couldn't distinguish my feelings from his anymore. The unease took root in my spine and solidified, rendering me unable to move any part of my body of my own volition. It was because I felt like there was something creeping behind me, just out of the range of my perception, masked by what my limited senses could not comprehend. Shaking, I clutched the rope and thought for a moment about high-tailing it out of there by climbing right back up when I was able move again. But I knew that if I were somehow able to break free of that state and make it there, the tip of a blade would be pointed directly at me. When that happened, I would not be able to escape. So really, I didn't have any choice in the matter.

Besides, Gramps was counting on me for this one…

"You're the only one small enough to fit down there," Jahaar had said, when I stood at the edge of the small hole in the room now above me. Gramps, Sagira, and the general were bound again. I knew that they could probably get out of the ropes easily, but it was because of me that they remained silent. Sagira wouldn't look at me, stubbornly keeping her dirt-smeared face turned away from where I stood. General Yeegar, meanwhile, was trying very hard to catch my eye. I knew that in this instance, he was imploring my aid, as he needed me to go down there and bring him the Innocence. It was only then that he would get what he came for. When I was safely topside was when he would act, I knew, but not before then. Beside him, I couldn't tell what Jiji was thinking. He was hard to read sometimes, I had come to find out, because Jiji was Jiji and his face, eyes, and even body language gave absolutely nothing away. When I met his gaze, I looked searchingly, but could not name anything I saw there. Maybe somewhere inside, he was upset at what I had done to Seeker. Crazy bastard or not, he was still a Bookman... Because of that, I wondered if Gramps was genuinely angry with me to the point where he wouldn't care if I was sliced to pieces right there. Or so I thought. When Jahaar stepped in front of me and pointed the tip of his machete against my chest in a threatening manner, I saw a flicker of reaction in Gramps' dark eyes. Maybe he hadn't given up on me after all.

"Go down there and get my treasure, boy."

Jahaar's words rang in my ears as I stood, helplessly alone and vulnerable in the blackness. Lavi was the braver one, recovering quickly. His fear dissipated, soothing mine along with it before completely steeling our resolve. My hands no longer shook and I felt like my body was my own again, no longer ruled by whatever lurked so quietly in the darkness. It was the same surge of assertiveness that I had felt before when I was fighting; when Gramps was pinning me against the ground, his thumbs pressing into my throat so that I couldn't gasp in any breath as I writhed and fought, choking in the sand beneath him, hoping, hoping that he would wake up and find me in that dark room where I could tell him to—

.save me.

"Do you see anything?" came a call from above, startling me from the picture-perfect reel of memory that had been playing in my mind. I glanced up and saw the rope disappear into such a tiny pinprick of light that I thought perhaps it was an illusion, but the voice that echoed was certainly one that I had heard before, and I really considered telling Jahaar that he could go fuck himself, thank you very much, but I refrained. Gramps had once told Lavi to watch his mouth, as people would think him irresponsible. Perhaps that also included this me as well.

"No," I replied, swallowing to steady my voice as I added: "It's really dark down here."

That's because you live in only half the world.

That tiny light above me disappeared, as if someone had thrown a curtain over a window on a sunny day. With my only source of meager illumination gone, I lost my balance and fell, feeling the floor curve beneath me, as if I were in a giant bowl. Because of this strange movement, my fingers slipped from around the rope and I lost it somewhere in the darkness. My mind mostly raced with obscenities as my heart pounded furiously fast. Fuck, fuck, fuck, get me out of here. I did not like the dark. It was an attribute that we all have, being humans who, by nature were engineered to walk in the day. There's nothing more that a person dislikes than being deprived of one of their senses, especially the most essential: sight. Although I could usually sit in a dark room and not be bothered, it was because I had first seen that same room in the light, which rendered every blackened corner, cracked closet, and the underside of the bed to be nothing more than just things in the night. There was nothing to fear.

Except now, there was something to fear.

That feeling rushed into me with a surge of adrenaline. It was being in an unknown place with no light and no rope. I had lost my lifeline and therefore, my bravery in some respect. I couldn't see or hear anything from above, so that I was as helpless as a newborn infant. Maybe they were calling me, but my heart was throbbing so badly in my ears that I was deaf anyway. Around me, there was just the overwhelming blackness and the pressure of stagnant air. I felt stupid being so afraid of the dark. But when the dark talks back...well, perhaps my fear was justified.

And you...cannot see without looking.

"I'm looking," I said into the void, voice trembling as my sweating palms gripped at the sand. I wanted out more than ever as I felt a cold, creeping feeling taking hold of me from behind. It was almost an embrace, but one that left me still and shaking with fear I had not felt in a long time.

Not since before Jiji.

Look.

"I'm looking," I said again, trying to stop my trembling.

See.

"Darpan," came my name from above. Within some otherworldly grasp, I could only manage to move my head, tilting it slightly upwards, but I could not see anything in the black. Even still, I knew that it was Gramps and my rapidly beating heart calmed its racing somewhat. I had not been abandoned. And as his voice resounded quietly in the space around me, I realized that I had only heard him use that tone once before: back from a time when I was not Me as I am now, but as someone with a different name. Still, only He and I and would understand what that sound meant. It would appear natural to anyone else, almost nonchalant, but there was a subtle ringing to the intonation that spoke in volumes.

He was worried.

"Jiji," I said, but so quietly that I don't think he heard. My lungs were frozen with cold, icy in the grip that would not let me leave. Was this really Innocence? The substance of a "God" I did not believe in? When had it become so malicious?

Look.

"I'm looking," I repeated, but no sound left my lips, just air and life.

See.

"There's nothing to see! There's nothing there!" I tried to shout, my only eye aching from staring into nothing while struggling to breathe. I just wanted to escape from the thing that held me so tightly, clutching at my body like those dirty hands had, holding me down, forcing my nose into the dirt as fingers gripped at my hair, skin, bruising, bleeding, violating—

Inside, a four year-old Me wept with jagged images like broken glass.

Look.

The voice resonated inside my head with the command, pulling me from memories that weren't mine—or were they?—and I felt a force clutch me in such a way that I felt my heart stop. Literally, it stopped. I could no longer hear it pounding in my head. No air forced its way from my lungs. In that moment, there was no fear or cold or immobility. There was only me and the dark and the lips just behind my ear telling me to see.

And I did.

A point of light appeared before me, so blue that it was blinding, despite being as small as a firefly. My eye burned as if I had stared into the sun and I turned away, dazed, as time rushed to the present. Sensations hit me too quickly to discern. All I knew was that I was there and as tangible as the cool grains of sand beneath my hands. I breathed as if I had not been for years and had suddenly learned how to do so properly.

"Darpan," Gramps said again. It was just like that time, from His memories, not mine, and something about Jiji's concern made Lavi the happiest I had ever felt. It was strange to experience that rush of joy when I was so frightened, as if two opposing forces had suddenly clashed inside of my body when they usually repelled each other like magnets. Because of this jumbled confusion of emotion, I couldn't raise my voice to cry out Jiji, get me out of here. He couldn't save me, I rationalized, and so I was prisoner to a force I could not understand. I could only lie there on my side, staring at the curved wall with my back to the brightly pulsating orb. The stone before me had turned an eerie, emerald green in the dark, but there was light at least. I could see my rope dangling several feet from where I lay, barely able to move. I knew I had to take the it. That was my only goal: the way I was going to get out of this hole and then out of the situation that awaited me above. Even though I did not want to touch the Innocence, with its overwhelming presence, I knew that I had to. After all, as my thoughts kept repeating: I didn't have a choice. So, with that clear mission, I pushed myself half-way up, still shaking slightly as if I were drugged, crawling through frigid snow and not sand from one of the hottest deserts on the planet. I all but dragged myself towards it, until I was so close that I felt like I would go blind even though my eye was closed. It was so bright and when I reached for it, so cold.

No.

I didn't even realize what had happened until I was lying on the ground beside the nearby wall, gasping and trembling from the force of a blow I could not avoid. My fingers had just barely brushed the icy surface when the Innocence recoiled and rejected my presence, hurling me aside into hard stone. It felt like the sheer motion of it had broken my ribs and I struggled to inhale, writhing in the sand. From the corner of my eye, the speck of light seemed to watch me, hovering as if taunting me; laughing at my judgment. Jiji I tried to call, but could not make any sound.

I realized then it was because there was no air.

It was as if a vacuum had come and sucked all the oxygen out of the place, similar to what Lavi's memories recalled from some of the experiments used by the eccentric twins, Manas and Ganesa. The pressure was crushing, weighing me down as if I suddenly had been thrown underwater. And yet, felt like I was drowning in nothing, lungs burning for oxygen so intensely that I was as if someone had lit fire to them. Clutching at my chest, the green glow began to blur, melting into an indigo threaded darkness that began to gather at the corner of my vision.

I didn't want to come down here in the first place.

That was the only thing I could think as I began to slip into the dark cerulean light. I thought of Charon and the lantern that hung from his boat to guide the way down the river Styx with its turquoise illumination. The Greeks knew how to make things dramatic, especially when the destination had a name like Hades. I vaguely thought of Sagira and her poor attempts at insults regarding the mythological creatures with only one eye, kind of like me. If I had air, I might have laughed. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

Somewhere above, I heard Gramps call for me again.

I'm sorry, Jiji. I guess I can never be your apprentice now.

Maybe it was better that way. His life would probably be a lot easier without me around, always slowing him down and making his life difficult. Besides, after what happened with Seeker, I doubted that I could maintain my current position as his heir. I closed my eye, I tried to justify it: the meaningless death that I experienced as I slowly felt myself dying, cut off from oxygen. I was weak; not strong enough to be a Bookman. But no matter how many times I said it, repeating it over and over like a catechism in my failing body, I could not believe it. My heart wept recalling the journey thus far and how much Jiji had done for me. I remembered everything with my picture perfect memory, from every kind-spoken word to each encouraging touch to my head. He had patience when I was difficult and gave encouragement even when he tried not to. I knew that Jiji tried not to care, but he always had and I wanted to cry. He was the first person to ever care about me and Him and us.

And, so He and I and We loved him unconditionally.

I just wanted to save you.

That's why I had come down into the darkness, into the unknown in the first place, even though I hadn't wanted to. That was why. It was to protect Gramps like he had done for me for all those years. For the second time that evening, I felt life slipping through my body, but this time, Jiji would not be able to help me. I allowed only one tear for my momentary existence in the expanse of never-ending time. It had been short and for most of it, not very pleasant. But the years I had been with Gramps, including the injury and illness, were looked on fondly. I would miss everything from the way he sometimes snored at night to the way he would call me brat when I said hey.

I smiled and, although I had no breath, I said:

Thank you.

And Air rushed into me like Life.

There was wind, brushing over me like a gentle caress. The malicious intent that I had felt before disappeared, replaced with something that I could feel resonate inside of me, but which I could not identify properly. It did not hurt, not in the sense that it was physically painful, like the injuries to my body. Instead, it was the pulsing of a heartbeat within my own, beating quietly with an emotion I could only empathize with as sadness. When I finally opened my eye, I found that the light had even softened in a visual manifestation of its geniality. Unable to comprehend the turn of events, Lavi was weary of it, but could not quell my curiosity to draw nearer. It was already very close to me, glowing with that ethereal light that seemed to hum. Giving it a good observation, I realized that my previous assumptions of its color had been mistaken; it was an amazing pallet ranging between blue and green, resulting in a shade that I had never seen, nor could ever have imagined on my own. Then I realized that the more I looked, the more I saw. In the middle of the light, something moved with the tight efficiency of the gears and pistons Lavi had seen in hundreds upon hundreds of books and documents that I never recalled reading. Hovering directly in the center, this entity resided in its perfection where a small, rotating universe proportioned itself around an atom of pure energy.

You See this world.

The voice came again, but this time, not threatening in the same frigid whisper that had left me paralyzed. Lavi wondered at the development as much as I did, watching as the Innocence moved slowly upward, casting more light in the chamber. It was then that we could truly see the room in its entirety: a flat ceiling and curved walls that moved easily into a dipped floor. It was a perfect half-hemisphere, just like a matching pair to the room above.

"What?" I asked, because I didn't understand. Lavi didn't either, struggling to interpret the words that held meaning, but not to us.

You Watch this world.

"Of course I do," I said, Lavi's pride coloring my tone as we proclaimed: "I'm a Bookman."

No said the Innocence, in a tone that I presumed a mother would use to gently correct her child's mistake.

"Yes, I am," I said, because that was all I had in that half-world, where I held no power except that singular identity. I was real in a world that would disappear with the full moon. I was something of substance, of matter, and of purpose. It was something that the Innocence could not take away from me, in the room now filled with light.

No, you are not.

"Then what am I?" I asked, Lavi's curiosity feeding the words onto my tongue, tinging the question with a bit of a challenge. Tell me what you think I am, his presence seemed to assert, because you're wrong.

You are the Gray in this Black and White World.

I could not muster a reply, staring at the Innocence that spoke in riddles. It reminded me—us—of a time when we were someone else in a city that fell to ruin during the prophecy of a voice's song beneath a sky of fire, where from the wreckage that soothing tenor whispered wake up, number forty-nine. I swallowed, finding enough breath to ask: "What?"

Why did you come here?

I stood up straighter when it asked me, in a straightforward manner, what my purpose was. Hands turning into fists at my sides, I replied: "To take you."

No, you did not.

I wanted to tell that cube not to tell me what I was and was not with a few inventive swears, but quelled that desire that was fueled by Lavi's mounting hostility inside me.

"I came here to take you."

No, you did not. You are merely Looking.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my own agitation mounting, "I told you that I came here to take you because that's the reason why I'm here!"

You are not Seeing.

"What? What am I not seeing?" I inquired.

Truth.

I opened my mouth to say something, but then stopped as I thought about the journey. I had wanted nothing to do with any of it and neither had Jiji. We just wanted to come and go and find what we were looking for. Not this. I thought about the ends it had brought and my legs felt weak as I recalled the blood and that familiar body with the blade jutting out from the neck, pouring life and knowledge onto the sand like black, black oil forcing me to sit down before I collapsed on the spot.

Why did you come here?

"Because I had to," I said quietly, drawing knees against my chest. I felt small and powerless again, even as a soft pressure covered my shoulders, similar to that of a warm blanket. The Innocence drew closer, bathing me in its spectacular light. I suddenly felt a wave of sympathy crash through me as I observed the substance again. I knew, from the readings that Gramps had made one of the previous Me read, that the Innocence, once collected, was matched with an accommodator and its very form forced into the shape of a weapon to be utilized in battle. Such perfection ought not to have been tampered with. That was probably the reason for the Innocence's hostility. It was trying to protect itself. Despite my feelings, I could not abandon my reason for coming. People were counting on me.

The warmth touched me as if to soothe my thoughts.

You are the Gray.

"What?" I asked, the words still ringing in my ears. Mentally, Lavi sharpened our senses to recall every detail of the conversation, right down to the last ring that revolved around a symmetrical cube of God's Crystal. I was merely the mirror he saw through.

Just another name.

In the world of Black and White, you remain the Gray.

It was that riddle that the voice brought up again, confusing me deeply. There was nothing black and white about the world. Lavi recalled this, tapping into a distant memory he shared with Rohan from many years ago, when they had met Bookman for the first time and discussed situations within society. His answer, when asked how to chose between two sides, had been related to the concept of division within nature. Tapping into it, I could hear the echo of Lavi's response, wherein he sat in a wooden chair in a familiar, well-lit library while he said the definitions of good and evil are relative, aren't they? I mean…there isn't just good and there isn't just evil. After all, we don't live in a black and white world; there exist shades of gray—different degrees of good and evil—within ourselves. There isn't a line or a clear distinction between the two. They blur and are therefore indistinguishable. So when you ask whose side I would choose, I can only ask: what side could there be?

"Everything is a shade of gray," I said, vocalizing our thoughts. "There exist no true opposites."

Humans are the Gray.

"Compared to what exactly?" I asked, wanting to know as much as the rest of the Me inside of me. We all wanted to understand exactly where there were pure shades of white and black. We needed to know, because We couldn't question anything without reason.

The opposing forces within this World.

"Like what?" I prompted. There was life and death, but even then, akuma proved that idea of complete opposites was faulty. They lived beyond death because of...I stopped and looked, truly looked at the Innocence. Was it possible that the White and Black corresponded to things that did not occur naturally in nature at all, but rather the unnatural things. Innocence, akuma. They were created by something different. If We believed in God, the entire equation would make better sense.

To know that answer, you must stop Looking and start Seeing.

"I don't understand," dropping my gaze. The voice seemed to sigh against me, as if disappointed that the abilities of human comprehension were limited.

You will.

I shook my head and stood up, forcing the feeling from around my body. Above me, Jiji and the others were waiting. I had to get to them before Jahaar got impatient and before the dawn, or else I ran the risk of being trapped inside for—my heart raced—an entire month. I would surely die if that happened. The thought was not comforting. I moved my hands out, reaching for the Innocence, but did not take it, pausing before I did so. "I'm sorry, but I've got to take you out of here."

I have known that for hundreds of years.

"Who put you here?"

God's supporters, who wanted to protect me from the Earl of One-Thousand Years.

"And you didn't want to be found," I said, because I could recall the chilling feeling upon entering the temple, where that breath had whispered leave this place in such a way I had almost run away. It was that same, threatening feeling upon entering the chasm, when the coldness had nearly frozen my blood solid in my veins. It had been the Innocence's attempt to get me to turn around and abandon it. Why it had changed its mind, I had no idea.

Do you know where I will go?

"Not for sure," I answered honestly, "but I know that you'll be going to a place called the Black Order."

Do you know what the Black order is? What it does?

"It's a religious organization that fights against akuma. They use Innocence to do so," I said, as an old Me resurfaced, recalling a memory when my name had been Ince. It was a memory of an organ that sang the saddest of tunes in the Ukraine, which brought up sensations and memories associated with the rain and cold, brick streets and fleeing from men in tan uniforms; avoiding the eye of a man with thick red glasses and a black Exorcist coat tipped with gold. It was on a train heading South when Bookman had told him about the Order for the first time and its experiments with Innocence on children. Ince and Lavi collaborated their feelings, which fueled my own: Jiji had been speaking seriously when he gave this information, like a professor before a lecture. But his eyes had been darker, warier and maybe concerned. He didn't want me to go there I thought, recalling the scene from inside of us. The Innocence warmed my hands, bringing me to the current reality as it replied, somewhat tiredly:

To fight, yes, that is our purpose.

"You don't want to fight? Is that why you wanted us to leave?" I asked. "So we would leave you alone?"

Yes. I do not want to see war. Just like you.

I did not say a word, startled by this statement. How could it possibly know how I felt about such an issue? How all the names inside of me felt about it? We all had seen what it had done. It made us sick to watch and to record. No matter how much we braced against it, the disgust crept up like muddy water after the long rains in Nepal, sweeping through our veins in strong currents like the one that took her broken body over the rocks and down, down, down, until she was out of sight and beside where she left me calling—Mother, Mother—even though her body was gone and the river kept rising, rising higher with brown, fetid, churning—

I pushed the hazy image away, not wanting to see. That was for Him and not Me.

It hurts. It pains you deeply to see because you love this world, for all its faults.

"I may love this world, but not the people in it," I said, pulling from the consensus within us. The current me thought of Jahaar and, to some extent, Seeker. My previous selves gave names that I only recognized by flashes of memory and partial dialog: a man who turned to ashes and a woman whose eyes were black with magik. But then, there came other names and faces: Dakshina and Enoch, Manas and Ganesa, Hans and Bartleby, along with more kind souls that had been encountered along the way: Zebulon, Lady Alexandra, Sir William, Sagira...but there was one image that shone through all of us, which had remained the constant in the ever-changing world of Us: Jiji. It bled through all of us like a spilled inkwell eating through parchment: Lavi thought of Gramps first and we all thought of him too and decided that perhaps over-generalizations were incorrect assumptions. "Well, the people who create the problems anyway."

No, your heart goes out to everyone.

"You're wrong."

You're wrong.

"I'm not."

Yes, you are. No matter how you may fight it, you cannot change that aspect of your nature. Your heart is kind and will always remain that way.

"Bookmen have no need for a heart," I said, other voices repeating that recitation inside of me. We had heard it before from Jiji, who lectured us constantly about emotion and bias. By eliminating that aspect of our selves, then we could be completely impartial: true Bookmen. We wanted that. We wanted that so badly, because then Gramps, even if he did not show it, would be proud. That, and only that, was what we wanted most above all.

And yet yours beats with only compassion.

"No," I said, shaking my head, denying, pushing everything away. I had to learn not to feel. I had to find that switch and turn it off. I had to capture that compulsion and lock it in a box that could never be opened. I had to make sure that it was behind a brick wall, restrained by chains and darkness. To do this, I had to remind myself of what had been done to me and the unfair cards I had been dealt. I had to recall every incident of abuse and neglect I had suffered at the hands of others. I had to revisit the nights of hunger and cold before the Clan, where I had nothing and no one to care about me. In a sense, I knew I had to return to the Me who had existed on those dirty, frigid streets with only a drive to survive and no sympathy for anyone else. I had to completely eradicate my want to be compassionate to achieve my goal.

I had to understand the monster that lived behind door number Two.

You try to hide it.

"No," I said again and then, we thought: isn't it funny how we want to stop caring, because we care about Jiji so much? It sparked a question inside of us all as to why we were doing this in the first place. What was it we were fighting so hard for anyway?

Crush it.

"Stop," I told the Innocence, not wanting it to continue. I was confusing the previous Me, who now questioned our ethics.

Because you can't let anyone see...

"Stop it," I said, a little louder.

The Heart You're Not Supposed to Have.

"What do you know?" I asked, and my voice reverberated in the space. Before me, the glow of the Innocence pulsed as it dropped down into my hands like a large lightning bug. I felt its warmth move through my fingertips and up my arms, as if traveling through my very veins into my body, circulating through my system and causing my heart to feel full.

And heavy.

I feel everything you feel. So I know, it aches knowing its existence is ignored by your profession and by the person whom you care about most.

"You're wrong," I said, though my voice was weak. I could not believe that my resolve had crumbled so quickly and now I was left, not knowing what I truly believed anymore. We were conflicted, all of Us. We wanted to be Bookmen. At the same time, we felt compassion towards Jiji, whom, even as our mentor, we were not supposed to care about.

Bookmen can't love someone whispered inside of me.

Who says they can't? Asked another, quietly from the fringes of my psyche.

I, a name in a series of names that would all accumulate to become Me, did not know how I felt. There were only the concrete memories from myself that I trusted completely, as I had experienced them firsthand. There was a boat ride before Cairo and then the desert, where, beneath our tent, Gramps and I had shared much more than meals and ideas. I could not describe it completely, how it felt, but I had nothing but respect for Jiji. And when I recalled the instances of concern he felt for me, but could not outwardly show, my heart felt conflicted again. All I knew was that I cared, but would Jiji hate me for caring?

You are the Gray.

"Stop speaking in riddles," I said, wanting to cry. Lavi stopped my tears.

Stop he said, so I did.

You understand

"I don't," I replied, because I did not. None of the me understood. We were just as confused about the concept of gray as we were about the concept of impartiality.

Maybe another You understands.

I looked at the orb of light that rested upon my open palms. Inside, I felt violated that someone could see beyond Me. This name was supposed to be me, but those words only solidified the fact that I was nothing more than an illusion. I was just another name to be used and then discarded; a name that would never appear within history.

The You inside of You. The Other Name.

"How do you know about Me?" It was not me who asked, but Lavi who spoke, his consciousness pushing mine aside. He had sat back for the record's sake, but there was something that had spurred him to take action. I could tell that he had been shaken too, as his love for Jiji was the heart of all of ours.

I know, because I See.

"You see nothing," Lavi said, his tone rivaling ice. Somewhere, a door inside of us rattled: the door of whose threshold we were never to cross.

Who are you?

"I already told you. I'm a Bookman." Our tone became suddenly agitated, fueled by Lavi's bristling hostility and our other defense mechanisms that activated as a result of this personal assault. We all were affronted by this substance that called itself Innocence, in disbelief that it could be so invasive. I wanted to throw it down and break it, but I could not. I could only stand there, behind the mirror and watch.

What is your name?

"My name?" Lavi asked. We felt his confusion like someone had slapped us, leaving us dizzy and unable to comprehend anything for a moment. Our name? Did We have a name? A single name?

Your name.

"I have no name," he said, because we did not. We could not come up with the collective identity that named us all. We were no one, because we were preparing to take on the title Bookman and that alone. We needed no name.

You do.

"Lavi," he tried.

No.

"Rohan," he attempted again.

No.

"Ensio, Ince, Darpan—"

No. Those are not your name.

"Because I told you that I don't have one."

Who are you?

That question resonated within us. Who were we? Were we separate from one another? Were we all the same? We all came from different places, but resided in the same body. We all had different thoughts and feelings. We all acted in different ways. We all had different names. Who were we? We did not know.

The chasm felt larger than ever.

"I don't know," Lavi said, breathing out the answer in a tired sigh.

I do.

"How can you possibly know that when I don't even know?" Lavi asked, angry once more. We felt that ripple through our consciousness and we each felt a bit of it take hold of us. Yes, how could this Innocence know the answer when we ourselves did not know who We were, leaving Us without a clue as to which Me we had become and which I we were supposed to use?

You will become an Exorcist.

It was an answer we had not expected. We gathered, confused behind Lavi, wanting him to ask aloud what that meant. Would we end up like General Yeegar upstairs, who was so kind, but had such a grim fate waiting for him? Would it be going to that place that Jiji had talked about with such

"An exorcist?" Lavi finally asked, when our curiosity bled into his, making his tongue move of our own volition.

You are an apostle of God.

"I don't believe in God," Lavi said simply, because he didn't. None of us did. It happened when a person's life was unfair. It happened even more so for us, who all had eclectic feelings of negativity towards a higher power. After all, what sort of God would allow those things to have happened, even when I begged and screamed and cried until they gagged me and pushed inside, ripping and tearing and bleeding while I kept crying god, god, please, god why won't you save me?

No, we decided.

There was no God.

Even still, your heart resonates with the Gift.

"How can I be an accommodator if I don't have faith?" Lavi challenged; we challenged. We would not accept without proof or reason.

Accommodators are born, not made. This world made you lose faith. God made you an Apostle.

"Even if that's true, I won't fight," Lavi said, and we all felt the same. We would not fight for a God we did not believe in. We would not die on a battlefield for some false prophecy.

After the Great Flood, I was divided into 109 equal pieces. There were born 109 capable to end this war. These 109 are the ones who will change the course of history.

"But—"

Will you not fight to save the world you love?

"I...am a Bookman. I cannot intervene," Lavi said, because this was fact. Our job was to watch from the sidelines, even if that meant watching the world tear itself to pieces. Even though we knew that, his voice wavered and we wondered: if we were told we were the only ones who could save the world, would we act? We thought of the things we loved: the forest in autumn, the smell of the earth after a summer rain, the softness of soil where things grew wild in spring, the beautiful moisture of a fresh fallen snow. And then there were the nights of hot chai and cloves, reading over tomes of ancient knowledge with—

Jiji.

You will let the world fall to ruin

"I—"

If it came down to that moment, that split second, where we would have to make that choice...

You will remain impartial as the End comes?

"I—"

We knew that we would follow the path to save those things that we had come to appreciate. Those things that we realized we could not live without. Those things were the things we could not remain impartial about.

One day, you will find the strength to follow that Heart of Hearts.

He looked and I looked and we looked up at disbelief, all of us. We did not know what to make of this. We could not see the black or the white, only the gray. We could not believe in God. We would not fight for a lost cause. We would not engage in a losing battle. Lavi thought of Gramps and we did too. If that time came, it came. When that happened, we would have to walk the path ahead of us.

But now, we had made our decision.

"I'm going to take you. You are going to go to the Order without me," Lavi said.

I am not your Match. Yours awaits you.

"Hope it doesn't get too offended when I don't show up," replied Lavi, taking hold of the Innocence completely. It burned our hands, but he did not drop it, wincing through the pain.

You will.

"Doubtful," Lavi said.

You will. It will be waiting for you, Forty-Nine.

We stopped and stared at the glowing cube, recalling again that voice that had whispered so sweetly wake up number forty-nine.

"No," Lavi said, shaking his head in disbelief, "you're wrong."

He clutched at the Innocence so tightly that his hands bled, but he did not let go.

"You're wrong."

No.

The feeling of warmth spread through our body again. From somewhere within our memory, a foggy sensation appeared with the image of a redheaded man, smelling like the sea with his finger making the shape of a hot cross against skin, whispering, whispering in words of unintelligible prayer.

You are—

No.

—the key—

Stop it.

—to saving—

No.

—this world—

I...

—because, number forty-nine—

We...

—you are—

Please...

—the one who will become—

Don't say it.

—The Heart.

pqpq

-crawls into a hole and dies-

Please don't hate me for writing such garbage, but it was so fun. Because we all know Lavi's going to be the Heart, right? Right? I mean, why else would Katsura Hoshino always be going on about Bookmen not allowed to have hearts? Isn't it the most amazing irony?

Heh, my writer's block is so bad that I actually think I did something creative.

-hides-

Be gentle with the feedback, kiddies. You might make me cry.

Dhampir72