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Part III: Ready to Run

Bookmen were not stupid, nor did they make simple mistakes, and Yuu knew for a fact that this room was the one Lenalee had supplied for him. And yet, Bookman was on the bed, stony-faced and looking for all the world as if he was a statue. It wasn't worth it to confront the idiot, not anymore, so the dark-haired man simply slipped into the room without another glance at his bed. He pulled off his clothes and replaced them with a baggy shirt and equally baggy pants. Reaching into his hair, he untied the ribbon and drew it out in one swift motion. His dark hair fell like a shimmering blanket around his back, arms, and chest in the moonlight. He thought he heard a gasp from his bed, but Yuu ignored it, intent on preparing for sleep.

When he had finally finished his nightly routine, he turned back toward the bed. Seeing Bookman still there, an almost expectant look on his moonlight-pale face, Yuu turned-effectively snubbing the younger man-and stalked from the room. He walked out into the corridor and, ignoring the squeaks of the wooden floorboards, knocked lightly upon Lenalee's door. He was lucky that she answered it, but he knew she would. Moyashi, after all, was no host, and he would not cater to the needs of two people he currently despised, especially at this time of night.

"What is it, Yuu-kun?" Lenalee's voice was concerned.

"There's a parasite in my room," the Japanese man replied, trying his best to look upset. His previous meditation made it difficult, though. Lenalee's face scrunched up in confusion. "A rabbit-like parasite," Yuu elaborated.

Lenalee's eyes went round, and she giggled. "Maybe he... just wants to talk?" She suggested. Yuu was immediately suspicious. Something had happened during his time near the Thames. Perhaps his hostess had talked with Bookman, or maybe she understood the redhead far better than he ever had. That thought hurt. In his mind, he was desperately yelling that no one knew Bookman better than him, but then he remembered what had happened. Bookman had lied to him from the start. There was no way for him to know what had actually been true.

"Che." He walked back to the room, closed the door behind him, and stared long and hard at his former lover. He tried to ignore the pang in his heart as he noted how... sensuous the man was looking.

"What do you want?" Yuu asked. Bookman jumped, as if he hadn't expected to be acknowledged.

"I was going to ask you to come with me," Bookman blurted, his face full of conflicting emotions that Yuu was sure were echoed on his own visage.

That wasn't what he had been expecting the redhead to say. Blinking, he couldn't do more than stand there with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "Eh?" He managed to choke out.

"The thing I had to do-the thing that was more important than history, the thing that was more important than the record-I was gonna ask y'to come with me." It was Lavi who spoke, not Bookman. And that sparked the anger that coursed with the force of a typhoon through the Japanese man's veins. He suddenly wished he had Mugen in his hand so that he could slash the redhead into ribbons.

"You think I would have come!" Yuu shouted angrily, fisting his hands and charging forward to strangle the miserable excuse for an existence on his bed. He barely registered Lavi's face falling into a hurt expression before his fist connected with the man's shoulder and they both fell down onto the mattress, Yuu pinning the redhead and raising his fist for another strike. Lavi quailed under him but let the next punch hit his jaw.

"I hoped," the man admitted quietly. Lavi raised a hand and put it to Yuu's left shoulder. The dark-haired man shrugged it off and pinned the redhead harder.

"Why did you think you even had a chance in Hell of getting me to come along?" Yuu hissed, baring his teeth.

"I-"

Yuu didn't want to hear it, so he punched the man again. Lavi's nose began to bleed, though it wasn't broken. "You could have at least told me it was over, rather than pretending as if I didn't exist! Or would such an action have confirmed for you that you may have had an attachment?" The Japanese man snarled, bringing his face dangerously close to that of the man beneath him.

"Yes!" Lavi shouted, pushing the older man off him in a surprising feat of strength. "I'm a Bookman, Yuu, I'm not supposed to love someone!"

"You never loved me!"

Lavi looked as if he had been slapped by Allen's Innocence. "What made you think that?" He whispered.

"You never told me," Yuu began quietly. Lavi opened his mouth to protest, but Yuu glared at him, and the redhead relaxed. "You always hid from everyone, you were hardly ever genuine, even with me, you asked questions that pried, you always made it perfectly clear it was just an indulgence!" By the end of the list, he was screaming, his chest heaving with deep, gulping breaths and his heart beating at a rate Yuu only achieved when training with Mugen.

"And what was I supposed to do!" Lavi yelled, matching the Japanese man's volume and then some. "It's my job! I don't know anything else but this life! My first memory is of me at the age of six, renouncing my name and pledging myself to the path of a Bookman! Our relationship went against every single one of the vows I took that day, and with the Old Panda gone, there was no one else to record. I had to, Yuu-chan, I've never known anything else."

Yuu scoffed. "You could have told me! You never told me! Even now, I have to concede the fact that Lenalee knows more about you than I ever will! It was an indulgence, Lavi, nothing more!"

"Then why do you call for me in your sleep?" Lavi shouted.

"You would, too, if you saw what I see! I replay your death every night, is that enough for you!" Yuu snapped, not caring that his response admitted that he loved the other man far more than he ever should have.

"I never died," Lavi said, sounding surprised. His tone was quiet again, and his face was holding an expression the Japanese man had never seen in it from before.

"There were a million times it could have happened," Yuu replied just as softly.

"It didn't, though," the redhead countered, "And if it was just an indulgence, then why do you care that I died in your dreams? Why does it upset you so much?"

"It wasn't like that for me," Yuu admitted, looking away. "It started as meaningless, it meant nothing because it was a way for me to hide the truth, but somehow, at some point, it stopped meaning nothing. You kept saying it meant nothing, so I pretended I felt the same. Maybe I should have told you the truth so we could have ended it, then maybe I wouldn't still be feeling like this!" He was shouting again, gripping the redhead's shirt collar in his fists.

"I don't understand," Lavi whispered, "You still feel like this? Even after all these years? Is that why you were so mean to me?"

Yuu spluttered, gaping at the man in front of him. Mean? He had been fucking pissed at the idiot rabbit. "What do you think, Baka? Of course!"

Lavi reached up, fisting his hands in the Japanese man's long, dark hair, and yanked the man down, pushing him over until the redhead was sitting on Yuu's stomach. The older man went down without a fight, too shocked at the sudden movement, his hands still locked on Lavi's collar. Their lips melded together, sending a fiery spark all through Yuu's body. It was hard and purposeful, different in some way from previous embraces, but it still managed to feel right. He tried to push the other man away, but Lavi held fast, and suddenly, Yuu didn't want to stop anymore. He had spent so many years wanting-craving-this contact that all he could do was just let it happen.

Swift, nimble hands painted tantalizing patterns at his waistline, edging under his loose-fitting shirt with all the grace of a painter. They spread hot, tingling patterns up his stomach as they traveled to his chest, intent on making his breath hitch as they touched the sensitive spot beneath his tattoo. Yuu broke the kiss to gasp wildly. It wasn't right, though. He couldn't just sit there and do nothing. So he disentangled his hands from the fabric at Lavi's neck and tugged the entire garment upward. The second after the shirt was off, the redhead leaned forward and put his head to Yuu's chest, kissing and nipping. Yuu gasped again, hands scratching unintentionally at the other man's back, because the sensations were so familiar and so wonderful that all his rational thoughts had flown right out of his head.

Their lips connected again in a fierce kiss that made Yuu feel as if breathing was unnecessary, a trivial indulgence that he could ignore for the time being. The dark-haired man had forgotten how good kissing was. He'd forgotten a lot of things, though, like the feel of Lavi's hands running through his hair, tangling and catching on tangles, the distinct smell of fire and ink and just a little bit of hickory, and he had forgotten the heat that smoldered between them. Why was remembering these feelings so painful? Why was something he had missed and wanted so painful to have back? The ache, the one he had tried so hard to rid himself of, returned to his chest. Maybe it was the knowledge that this could end the same way it had so many years ago. He wasn't going to let it end the same way, though, this was going to either end things forever or pick things up where they had left off.

A tear forged a path down his cheek, but he held it in check, ensuring that no others followed. Lavi pressed down on him and their bodies tangled, distracting him from the present turmoil his emotions were in. They were confusing in the fact that he wanted this more than anything, but he hated the way he still felt betrayed, the loneliness still ate at him like acid and deep down he knew once this was over it would return tenfold. So he pushed it all from his mind and focused on the present, ignoring all but the most pressing emotions.

Sweat slicked their skin as Lavi bowed his head for another long, searing kiss, one Yuu returned with vigor. They simply fell together, molding themselves around one another, kissing and moaning as they strove to lose themselves in the waves of pleasure. Lavi groaned, which brought a pang to the older man's heart. The ache was back, stronger than before, and it wouldn't be banished as easily. He covered it by engaging Lavi in a hot, wet kiss that was both shallow and very, very brief. Then he resumed what he'd been doing before.

It had been a long time since Yuu had done this, but Lavi writhed a little bit, urging him to continue, and the older man figured he hadn't lost his touch. The ache intensified to the point that he could barely ignore it. Another tear fell down his face.

He would not admit to the pain, not even when Lavi's eye opened, resulting in a confused and alarmed look, not even when the redhead sat up, caressing his cheek and wiping away the wayward tear. That action just made his chest clench tighter. It hurt, it hurt. So he continued what he was doing, going too quickly. The rabbit's face clenched up in discomfort. Yuu didn't like that, it made the ache even more pronounced, so he abandoned his current machinations and brought his left hand up to smooth the man's hair, caress the man's face and neck and lay it flat on Lavi's chest. It was an intimate gesture, one that Lavi returned by sweeping his caressing hand back into Yuu's hair, clenching it there as if securing himself.

Yuu couldn't do this. It hurt so much. Bitterness and loneliness, betrayal and duplicity, combined with the musk that was distinctly Lavi and the hint of hickory and the fucking ink and paper and fire all surrounded him in a cocoon of loss and maybe love. It swirled and whorled, dizzying him as he realized that this-what they were doing right now-would not solve a thing. Lavi was still lost, was still Bookman, and nothing Yuu did would change that. He had lost him six years ago, and no act, physical or otherwise, was going to bring him back. He backed away, Lavi groaning with the lack of stimulation in a way that almost made him return, grunt an apology, say that he wasn't going anywhere and that he just wanted the rabbit to get a taste of what he had done to him, but no. He couldn't. He had to get out, had to get away, because tears were falling down his face again. He needed to leave. Loss and pain and betrayal. He couldn't hold on to embers of a fire that had long since died, a fire that had never been real. Ache and pain and hopelessness. Lavi had left him. There was no clearer fact. It was bared naked for the world to see, much like he was as he made to get off the bed. He couldn't do this. Because if he did, he wouldn't come out of it. Lenalee had told Lavi that the redhead had torn him apart. No, Lavi hadn't done such a thing. But he was about to.

A hand shot, lightning-fast, around his wrist, delaying his retreat. Yuu tried to shake it off, but Lavi wouldn't budge-he just pulled, and all of a sudden, Yuu was on top of him, and then the man rolled, and then the world restricted as Lavi sat on him. His face was pained, as if he hadn't been quite prepared, but Yuu had never before seen such a glorious sight. Sweat plastered dark, wet hair to the man's scalp, creating a halo of the deepest red over scarred or squinting eyes. A droplet of that same sweat fell in slow motion from the tip of Lavi's nose to the middle of Yuu's chest. His head tilted back as he pushed up and then back down, and Yuu's world narrowed.

Everything was hot and sweaty and ethereal. Lavi did that thing where he threw his head back in euphoria, a moan tearing its way from the man's kiss-swollen lips.

"Fuck," Lavi groaned, "Scheiße."

Vaguely, Yuu recognized the German, having been in close quarters with Marie-who was Austrian-and his German strumpet, Miranda. But he didn't care, because he moved his hands to Lavi's shoulders, then ran them down the man's strong, muscled arms, finally stopping them with a firm grip on Lavi's hips. They tangled in an erotic dance that pushed them both to the limits. Moans, whimpers, hisses, and curses littered the air with no regard for the neighbors or the hosts. Everything was hot and wonderful and good, even though the ache persisted and grew with each passing second. Tears poured down Yuu's face. He wouldn't break, not anymore, but he would hurt. But if he was going to hurt, then goddammit, so was Lavi. He redoubled his efforts until the redhead shuddered around him. And then it was too much, and he was screaming, and Lavi was screaming, too, and everything was hot and sweaty and oh, so good, and then there was release and everything went quiet.

They both panted and held each other, their breaths mingling as Lavi put his head next to Yuu's. The redhead's mouth descended on his in a sweet kiss that defied everything Yuu had known about their relationship. Indulgence, he told himself, but he wasn't quite sure he believed it. Lavi shifted upward and kissed every tear away, nuzzled his way down the messy, dirty tracks they'd made, and ended up snuggling into his throat. His head rested in the junction of the Japanese man's neck and shoulder, and the man's breathing evened out. Yuu found it relaxing, and despite the fact that it was stupid and they were dirty, he fell asleep to the metronomic sound of Lavi's breaths.

It was the sun that woke him, just as it always did. The warm body in his arms shifted as Yuu realized that it hadn't been a dream. Sighing and ignoring the growing throb in his chest, Yuu threw off the covers and readied himself for the day. He didn't want to confront what would most likely be the most awkward scene since the first night he and Lavi had been intimate with each other, so he grabbed his sword, closed the door behind him, and sat almost primly at the breakfast table. Lenalee shot him strange, knowing looks, and Moyashi gave him glares that promised revenge for lost sleep. Yuu pretended not to see them, and the Chinese woman's questions eventually died the longer he stayed silent.

The relationship had never meant anything, and even though Lavi was saying it had, Yuu knew the truth. Indulgence. He just had to keep telling himself that, because it made the ache lessen. It made him feel like he was able to shoot a tiny, feeble smile at Lenalee as he thanked her for breakfast. Walking out the door, Yuu knew he would never look back, not again. Lavi was Bookman, and Bookmen didn't do anything, relationship-wise, but relieve tension. That was what last night had been. Even if it had felt like so much more. Yuu also knew that Bookman was leaving within a day or two, so chances were no awkward talks would come about before the man was gone from his life forever.

He didn't understand why that thought made the hurt return to his chest, stronger and more powerful than he'd ever felt it.

Taking the Underground had merits, Yuu supposed, when all he wanted was to sit and drown in the pain that was engulfing his heart. On the other hand, rank-smelling hobos and loud, chattering businessmen made it hard to concentrate on more than the merest edge of his misery. It grated on his nerves, much like Lavi's useless chatter once had. The pain spiked for a moment, then dulled.

Before he could become completely consumed by his thoughts, the train arrived at its destination. After walking down the crowded streets of Camden for a few hours, Yuu decided to take a detour through Regent's Park. The calm trees and the light breeze helped relieve Yuu of the discomfort plaguing his chest, he allowed himself to relax slightly, taking in the peaceful surroundings.

Suddenly, everything disappeared into darkness. The feel of hands over his eyes sent an all too familiar shot of adrenaline though his veins as Mugen was pulled from its scabbard.

There was an eeping noise as Yuu pressed the blade to his attacker's throat. At the end of Yuu's blade was a tall, stocky brunette. He had his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and he was stuttering out half-formed sentences of what sounded like apology.

"I-I th-th-ought you were m-my w-wife! You look just like my Karou that I-I'm sorry about that! Please, don't... hurt me." Lowering Mugen, Yuu stared at the quivering man in a suit.

"Did you say Kaoru?" Yuu barely dared to hope that he had not misheard the man.

Seeming to regain his composure with the lack of imminent danger, the brunette nodded quickly.

"Yes, the resemblance between you two is striking. Wait... you wouldn't happen to be Yuu, would you?" Nodding, Yuu continued to wait for the man to explain.

The blue-eyed stranger smiled at Yuu's affirmative gesture and was suddenly grasping at the Japanese-man's arm, pulling him roughly down the park's path. As they exited the park from a different entrance than Yuu had come from, he barely had time to see which streets they were passing, not until they turned onto one a few blocks away. Balcombe Street. If this truly was Kaoru's husband, then he had best remember the street name. He was pulled rather roughly into a small apartment.

"Horace, what are you doing back so soon? You said you had work." A high, familiar voice rang out from the kitchen at their entrance.

"Dear, would you come out here for a moment? I've found something that may intrest you greatly." Horace, as Yuu was sure to remember, replied sweetly.

An irritated sigh lofted out from the small adjacent room. It was soon followed by a woman a few years older than Yuu, her long, black hair swept up in a neat bun. She was tall and slender, and when their eyes met, they were of the same charcoal gray as Yuu's own. Upon taking in the sight at her door, the woman, his sister, froze in disbelief.

"Yuu-chan?" She asked, rushing forward and grabbing him by his shoulders. Yuu could do little more than stare, and then he let the corners of his mouth twitch upward into the small smile he had reserved for her. She gave him a bright smile that outshone his own before pulling him in for a tight hug. He slipped his hands around her waist, still shocked that he had found her at all.

A small slap on his shoulder broke the moment, and when he pulled back, Yuu saw his sister's scowl aimed at him.

"Why did you never reply to my letters?" She demanded angrily, placing her thin, feminine hands on her hips.

"Letters?" Yuu asked blankly, blinking as he tried to recall ever getting mail. His expression darkened. "Komui is going to die," he hissed, resisting the urge to brandish his weapon once more. He didn't think his sister would like that.

"I sent them every two weeks since you were... brought to the Order." Her voice was tart, and Yuu understood at once her opinion of the institution that had stolen him from his home because he barely accommodated a piece of Innocence and had then spent the next three years running tests on him until he could synch at a very high rate. Second Exorcist, they'd called him, though he was the only one to live through it all. Because of his sister.

"I never received any," Yuu replied, a steely edge to his tone. He was just as angry as her. True, most Exorcists did not receive mail, but that was because most of them didn't have family, having been taken at a young age. Yuu had, though, and even during his days in the Asian Branch, he had never received more than a few packages containing his uniforms.

His long Exorcist jacket-he had not abandoned it, as it held great protection against the elements and was therefore suitable for travelers such as himself-shifted, almost as if it was being tugged. Yuu looked down and saw a tiny girl with her hand clenching the fabric around his left knee. She was looking up at him with wide, innocent dark gray eyes. She looked like a lost puppy as she tugged once more at his coat.

"Marie," Kaoru said, her voice softening in a way Yuu had never heard before. It reminded him a little of the way she used to talk to him, but it was different... more protective, almost. "Meet your uncle, Yuu. He's been out of town for a very long time, so this is the first time he's been able to visit. Say hello, won't you?"

"Hello," the little girl said, her voice a high, timid soprano. It quivered slightly, as if she was nervous, even though she was still holding tightly onto his jacket. Bending down, Yuu picked her up, though he was quite at a loss at what to do next. He stared beseechingly at his sister. She laughed, the sound of sweet, chiming bells, and stepped closer, taking the child into her own arms.

"Yuu-chan, meet my daughter, Marie."

Yuu tensed at the endearment, and the ache that he had suppressed returned. It was dull, nothing like it had been the previous night, but the conflicting emotions-the betrayal, the hurt, the distrust-must have shown on his face, because Kaoru's expression changed.

"What's wrong?" She asked, sounding a little bit like Lenalee when she was worried.

"Don't call me that," the long-haired man mumbled, looking away so that his sister wouldn't see the pain in his face. The woman saw it anyway and shifted so that she was in his line of vision again. The little girl in her arms reached out, pulling at the two locks of hair that usually framed his face. It reminded him so much of what Bookman had done the previous night to initiate things that he gasped and stepped back, pain on his face as tears of bitterness forced their way to his eyes. He refused to shed them, but they shone anyway, emphasized by the light. He wanted to look away, but Marie was still holding his hair in tight, insisting fists.

Kaoru gently extricated the toddler from his hair and set her on the ground, nudging her back and telling her to go play with her father, who had gone into another room to give them privacy. The girl tottered out, her pigtails swishing as she made her retreat. The second she was gone, Kaoru was next to him, putting a slim arm around his shoulder and pulling him close to her.

"Would you prefer Yuu-kun, or would you like to be addressed without an honorific?" She asked softly, pulling her fingers through what little hair he had left down in order to soothe the tangles the toddler had caused.

"The honorific is fine. I just don't... like the other one." His sister nodded in understanding and motioned for him to sit on the small couch in the living room.

Once they were seated Kaoru suddenly leaned forward and placed both her hands on the sides of his face, simply looking at him.

"You look terrible, Brother. I can understand that war does horrible things to a person, but you look like you haven't slept properly in months."

"Years," Yuu corrected, earning him a concerned look.

"Just what happened to you?"

Had it been with any other person, Yuu would have scoffed and left the subject well alone. But his sister was the only one he had ever been able to talk to. She was his only family. So he began from the beginning, telling her about his time at the Order, about Akuma, Innocence, and the experiments they had performed on him. He told her about the battle with the Earl, about the Noah, and about the other Exorcists. She liked hearing about his comrades. She noted the fondness in his voice when he spoke about Lenalee, the annoyance when he described Allen, and to his displeasure, the faltering as he spoke about Lavi. He told her about how he had spent the last six years searching for any sign of her and how his search had finally lead him to London.

When he concluded his tale, he met his sister's gaze and was shocked to see tears flowing from her eyes.

"Yuu-kun, you had such a horrible life! You suffered so much, and it appears that what I did to help you has hindered you as well."

"I don't understand. You saved my life by doing what you did. The Lotus is the only reason I survived all the experiments. Everyone else died." He didn't understand what she meant, but the tears were flowing even faster than before.

"Yuu, the Lotus was supposed to heal your wounds, keep you alive, and it did, but it wasn't meant to heal emotional and mental wounds. It kept you from expressing your feelings because that is what would have kept you alive at the time. I can see that now, you have so much pain, and something close to betrayal behind your eyes. I think it's time to release that, don't you? You don't need the Lotus to keep you alive anymore."

Yuu wasn't sure that was what he wanted, but his sister was still crying, so he nodded reluctantly. She smiled at him and patted his arm. At that moment, Marie came bowling into the room, running as much as she was hobbling. She gave a little tiny screaming giggle as her father-Horace, if Yuu recalled correctly-followed her, his arms outstretched and his hands forming claws. The girl jumped into Kaoru's lap, screeching and laughing as her father caught up and began to tickle her mercilessly. Yuu resisted the urge to cover his ears. It was his sister's child, after all.

"Will you stay with her for a bit, hon?" Kaoru asked as the girl's screams calmed and she ran off yet again. Horace nodded and leaned in to kiss his wife.

"How long will you be out?"

Kaoru hit his arm lightly. "Were you listening in?" She demanded in a faux-stern voice, a fake scowl on her face. She gave up the expression a moment later, laughing lightly. It reminded Yuu of the time he'd been with Lavi. That thought hurt, so he stood up and left the room, headed for the front door. His sister followed a moment later, donning a light coat.

They took the Underground back to the station near Lenalee's house, and they walked slowly toward their destination, talking quietly about what Kaoru had been doing in the years during their separation. It calmed Yuu to hear how well and happy his sister was, so much so that he had almost forgotten about the Bookman's presence until he ran into the man on their way in. Kaoru caught his arm, steadying him, though Bookman had the misfortune of falling completely to the ground. Yuu scoffed and stepped over the man, ignoring the pang in his heart.

"Yuu-chan? What-?"

The Japanese man heard Bookman's footsteps following them in. He missed the look of understanding his sister shot him, too eager to escape his former lover than to pay attention to his surroundings.

He wasn't surprised to see both Lenalee and Allen at the table, both nursing cups of tea, deep in conversation with Komui. The three at the table turned, and their eyes widened at the same time as they took in the scene. Lenalee was the first to make a move, standing and offering them seats.

"Yuu-kun, is this...?" The Chinese woman asked, and Yuu nodded.

"This is my sister Kaoru, Lenalee. Kaoru this is Lenalee, Allen, Komui, and the man behind you is La-Bookman." He introduced the room's occupants to his sister, pointing out each in turn, and cursed himself at his slip.

His sister smiled politely at all of them and took a seat at the table, thankfully between Yuu and Bookman.

There was an awkward silence as the group looked at each other. Lenalee kept looking at him and then to Bookman and then back to Yuu. Allen was scowling at him and then looking at Kaoru curiously. Komui was sipping his tea contemplatively.

Lenalee stood up a few moments later, taking a loaf of bread out of the oven, then bringing a plate of cookies over to the table.

"Would anyone like a cookie? Miss Kaoru, Allen, Lavi?" Yuu choked a bit on his tea, but he managed to suppress an outburst. Did Lenalee not realize her mistake? How come no one else was looking at her, telling her that the redhead wasn't Lavi anymore?

"Thanks Lenalee. You are one of the best cooks around," the redhead said, as he winked at the blushing woman.

There was an outraged cough from Moyashi, "Oi, Lavi, that's my wife you're flirting with."

Yuu saw the man in question lift his hands in a gesture of surrender, "Sorry 'bout that, Bean Sprout, some habits never die."

The Japanese man was at a loss for words. Just what the fuck was going on here? This went against everything Yuu had been trying to tell himself for the past six years. It hurt his chest, too much. He couldn't deal with this, not now, not when he was happy for the first time in years. Standing up, Yuu walked quietly from the table, up the stairs, and into his room. A few moments later, he was joined by his sister. He sat in his armchair as Kaoru walked over to the hourglass on the desk.

"You've lost a lot of petals." The observation seemed to pain her, and her hands trembled slightly as she reached into the glass container and removed the tri-petaled flower. Her firm grasp echoed on his own skin in a light, whispering breeze of a touch. The hairs on his arms stood on end as goosebumps formed. Shivering involuntarily, he watched as his sister stared almost forlornly at the weak-looking sham of what had once been a healthy, pink-tinged lotus. Though the petals still looked healthy, the stem did not, as if it was carrying a burden it couldn't hold on to much longer. Kaoru poked at the tiny thing until a petal dislodged itself and fell to the floor. Making an interested hum, the Japanese woman bent down and picked it up. Then she upset the hourglass so that she could hold the other ten petals. She walked into the kitchen. Yuu followed her, much like a dog would follow its owner, and watched as she asked Lenalee if she had a fire going. Moyashi nodded and lead her over to the hearth in the corner of the living room, which was separated from the kitchen only by a change in flooring.

The second the flower hit the flames, pain rippled in his chest, originating on his left breast and spreading out in iron-hot tendrils through the rest of his body. Yuu screamed and fell to the floor as all the walls he'd built around his emotions fell, spilling a torrent of raw pain and hate into his body, where it mixed with the molten metal scouring his veins. Somewhere in the far reaches of his brain, Yuu realized he was on Lenalee's living room floor, curled up in a protective ball, screaming and sobbing with all the hurt and blame. He cracked an eye open and saw red hair, and he tried to hit it, because it deserved to hurt, it deserved to feel what he felt, it deserved to die, dammit! It was his fault, it was Lavi's fault. Love and pain and tears all mixed together as he screamed and screamed and screamed, and warm arms came around him. They weren't his sister's, they were too sturdy, nor were they Moyashi's. They weren't Lenalee's either, and he'd be damned if he ever let Komui touch him, not that the man ever would.

Hands pulled themselves gently through his hair, taking out the ponytail and releasing the inky black tresses down Yuu's back. A soft, sweet voice shushed him, but he couldn't stop because every nerve ending was on fire. He said as much, and a hand carded through his hair once more, rubbed his scalp in a soothing pattern only Lavi knew. Yuu whimpered. He didn't want Lavi touching him, not ever again. It had put him through too much. But he found himself clinging anyway as reason died under the stress of the pain.

When his yells had died, replaced only with a small whine here or there, tremors wracked his body in their stead. The tidal wave of agony had washed through his body, and the small wavelets that followed it could do nothing to compare to its intensity. Yuu's voice was gone, and by the time he became aware of his surroundings, so was everyone else, save for the man who held him to his chest with gentle but strong arms.

Yuu pushed himself back, wanting to escape Bookman's grip. He'd been down this path before, and he knew he didn't trust the other man-not anymore. He sat on the floor, unable to move farther away from the redhead. He looked at Bookman and Bookman looked at him, neither looked away for a long moment.

Finally, Bookman sighed, averting his gaze from the furious Japanese man across from him. "I'm sorry. I know that means nothing to you, seeing as you won't believe me, but I'm sorry, and I'll explain why I did things the way I did if you'll listen."

He couldn't scoff, nor could he reply with any indifferent words or gestures. It was as if the wall guarding his emotions had been completely decimated, and all he could say was what he felt. "I hate you." His voice was soft and filled with a steely edge.

Bookman looked at him, his one-eyed gaze piercing. When he spoke, he sounded defeated. "You have every right to." Yuu hadn't been expecting that. His mouth was slightly slack, and he assumed his face said as much. "But please, please, listen to me."

Yuu nodded, keeping his eyes away from the green stare that so often pulled him in.

"I love you. I knew that since the time you were wounded on that one mission and limped into the library to find me, even though you should have-and for all intents and purposes would have-gone to Matron or to your room. But instead, you sought me out, and we went up to the roof, and... you remember the rest," Bookman finished awkwardly, shrugging. Yuu did remember. That had been the first time he'd let Lavi take him. On the roof, in the sunset, with just the faintest drizzle hitting his chest as Lavi had brought him to the edges of ecstasy and back.

"For the longest time, I kept fighting with myself. I wasn't supposed to be attached, but you all knew I was. You, Lenalee, Allen, the three of you made it goddamn hard to stay objective. Especially you. It became hard to focus on the battlefield, and I could never concentrate on the record when I was around you. My logs became sloppy. Sometimes, they were similar to the ones I did when I was eight or nine. They just reported the most obvious of facts, I missed key details that I never should have skipped over. I tried to compensate for that, and I got better. But then Bookman came to me and told me he was ill. He was so old that I knew it was unlikely he would survive. I had to choose-but you know that, obviously."

Yuu nodded, hating himself for understanding the asshole in front of him.

"I had to record the final bit of this war, you know that," Bookman continued, his gaze very, very far away, "but when I looked into your eyes right after Bookman passed... I couldn't do it. I wanted to throw everything away and just grab you and hug you and tell you the Old Man was finally dead, let's be together properly. I couldn't, though. It's my duty to record these things, and it went doubly so for that war, seeing as it is the most important historical event in the past three thousand years. But I couldn't keep my relationship with you. I'd miss things, I'd be tempted to throw my career away, just for you. So I walked away from you, and I sealed off my emotions." Bookman laughed bitterly, then added, "I'm good at that."

"This doesn't change anything," Yuu said bitterly. He couldn't get off the floor, though. It was as if he was glued there, rooted in place like a very old tree. He was stuck. So was Bookman, it seemed.

"No," the redhead whispered. "But I'm not done yet. Please let me finish.

"It became evident in the final year that I couldn't stop loving you. By the end of it, I just wanted to see your smile again. Do you know how painful it was, seeing you regress into a ghost of your former self? Do you know how painful it was, watching you lose your smile?"

"Do you know how painful it was for me when you walked away?" Yuu countered, unable to keep the note of bitterness out of his voice. Bookman smiled wryly.

"I know I hurt you, and you have every right to be resentful, but I want you to know I was going to ask you to come with me. I looked for you after the battle, but you were gone. We'd all expected you to leave quickly, but we all thought you'd be injured. When I couldn't find you, I thought you were dead." Bookman's voice caught on the last word, almost as if he was overcome by emotion or choking back tears. Yuu couldn't help but smile, even if it was a cynical one.

"You deserve it," he muttered sourly.

"I do," Bookman admitted. There was a short pause as they both reflected over what had just been said, and then the redhead continued. "I traveled the world and recorded for five years, thinking you were dead, but when I saw you at the café, I was so surprised, I slipped. I had to follow you, to see how you were doing. You brought me to Lenalee. I can't do this anymore, Yuu. I can't be objective anymore, not for you. You said last night that you loved me and that you still felt the same way. I do too."

"I don't care," Yuu said, trying and failing to ignore the clenching in his heart. "It was an indulgence, and it will never be anything more."

"It was never an indulgence," Bookman exclaimed, leaning forward so that their heads were only an inch or two apart. "That was what I told myself-and consequently, you-so that I could justify what we were doing. Bookmen don't care, Yuu, but I did. I cared from the very beginning, and I know you did too."

"I find that hard to believe," Yuu said angrily. Bookman scowled at him.

"I love you!" He yelled. "Why is that so hard to believe? Is it 'cause I never said it? I wasn't allowed to say it, and you never did either, so don't try to pin this all on me. I love you, Yuu-chan, and I'm not allowing you to run off again, not unless you well and truly hate me."

He wanted to believe it, he really did. But how could he ever trust him again? How could he be sure that Bookman wouldn't leave again for the sake of keeping his job? How could Yuu allow himself to feel again? He needed to respond, but all the words were caught in his throat, they were fighting each other. Conflicting feelings that never should have been there. I hate you, I love you, you betrayed me, love, hate, pain, anger, sadness. All of them fought inside his head, searching for escape. He did love Lavi still, despite everything the idiot had done to him, he loved him, it felt good to think it, but that thought was covered by the inescapable layer of pain that had grown thicker with each passing year. Yet, somehow, hearing Lavi's reasons face-to-face seemed to melt away some of it. As if knowing the reasons behind the actions made it hurt less, made it so that maybe, on some small level, he could forgive...

"I love you... but I can't trust you."

Bookman nodded and leaned forward. "Is it possible for me to earn it again?" He asked. He sounded insecure, as if he wasn't sure how Yuu would respond or how the rest of the night would play out. That fact in itself evaporated the melt water from the aching pain in his chest.

"I don't know," Yuu said, looking away. "I just found my sister, and I don't want to leave just yet, but I know that it would be over the second you set foot out of this house for your next assignment. I... don't want it to be over."

Bookman reached out a hand and placed it lightly on the Japanese man's chin, guiding it back so that they were face-to-face. "That implies that I can get it back. I don't care how long it takes. I don't have another assignment, and I won't for weeks-months, maybe. I won't leave you again. It hurts too much."

Yuu didn't know what to say. There was nothing tosay. He let Bookman edge closer and guide his head so that their noses wouldn't bump. The kiss was sweet and short and filled with something that Yuu identified as hope. The contact wasn't urgent, as if they were constructing something new over the ruins of their previous relationship. A new beginning, that was what this was, and they both knew it. Yuu found himself leaning into the other man, and Bookman responded by bringing his hands to the Japanese man's biceps. They let their foreheads touch.

"What do I call you?" Yuu asked.

"Lavi," Bookman said, and Yuu nodded. It was indeed a new beginning.

A/N: And that's it! ^_^ Te Amo, which was in the first part, means my love in Latin. As for any other notes, I don't think we really have anything to say, except that this was fun to write, and we really didn't mean for it to come out this angsty, but it kinda... did. :/