Chapter Text
Lavi’s greatest gift had always been his observation skills. Growing up on the streets (in a different city, under another name), he’d had to be clever and aware to ensure he wouldn’t starve to death or be killed. Bookman, of course, had taken the ability to a whole new level, ensuring that Lavi wouldn’t miss even a single detail. Lavi was pretty sure that if there was a way to keep from blinking for the rest of his life, Bookman would force him to learn that as well.
Regardless, his skill was why he knew Krory had to be in the next train wagon. It was the last possible option, given that the vampiric Exorcist hadn’t been in any of the others. The situation, once they found him, was pretty easy to break down. He’d gotten cheated out of his clothes and money by three traveling vagabonds and a sickly-looking child; tuberculosis if Lavi were to guess. They looked rough as if the gentleness was seldom shown to them. From their hands and posture, Lavi deduced they worked in the mines or a similar taxing job.
That was as far as Lavi got with his observation before another one took him by surprise.
“Allen!” the boy shouted and promptly threw himself at said young man.
Here was the thing about Allen Walker: He was lithe in build, small, but he knew how to present himself. Lavi looked at him and knew what he kept hidden, yet it was not a lie because everything about Allen Walker screamed that he was a young man. He’d never said a word about whether he’d learned from his deceased father or his Master, but Allen knew how to navigate society, which social cues to react to or ignore.
Allen often kept people at a distance to keep up appearances and live his life as he wanted. Lavi, personally, was a massive fan of invading people’s personal space. He’d learned to do so early for various reasons, and with time passing, Allen started to allow Lavi in his bubble. But always, he was careful, hesitating, bracing himself for interaction.
And yet, somehow, this protection was disregarded without a second thought. Allen wasn’t taken aback by the boy jumping him but reacted on instinct and caught the boy. Were the child smaller, Lavi would think it was because of Cornelia, but no, the boy was much older than Allen’s daughter.
And here it was, the second clue:
“Eeez!” Allen said. “What are you doing here?”
“Traveling to a new job!” Eeez replied in rapid-fire Portuguese that, had Lavi not spent a year in the country, he wouldn’t have been able to understand a word. “You’re pretty far from your usual roads,” Allen replied only and set the boy down again. “But I see, your cheating habits haven’t changed at all.”
“You’ve always been the worst cheat,” the man towards the right replied, causing the one on the outmost left to laugh in agreement.
The two seemed good-natured if a little tired. They were comfortable around Allen, studied him briefly as if to check he was doing well, eating enough or so. Anyone who knew Allen well enough to greet him so heartedly had to be aware of his metabolism and with this group struggling for money, it was no surprise they worried about food.
But it wasn’t quite the two men or the boy that drew Lavi’s attention.
No, it was the man in the middle.
Thick glasses obscured his eyes, but his hair was curly and dark, the kind that Lavi knew from experience was fun to run your hand through.
How well exactly did Allen Walker know this man and how much did he care to keep such large secrets?
“Are you going to join us, menino?” the man asked. “Your friend has lost a few things, I believe.”
Allen grinned triumphantly, but his hand twitched all the same, betraying his lie. He was nervous, shaken by this confrontation, and were he anyone else, words about little princesses in high towers, bright gray eyes looking up from the Branch Chief’s lap, and bets on milestones would soon spill out of his mouth.
“Allen,” Krory finally spoke up, still sniffling. “Do you know these men?”
“Yes,” Allen replied, shaking himself from stupor. “We traveled together for a while after Master Cross had dumped me. They’re friends.”
Just friends? Lavi wondered. From the looks of it, he was not the only one. The boy, Eeze, narrowed his eyes, glancing between Tyki and Allen. Whatever they had, it hadn’t been that casual. The result was currently crawling around HQ, after all.
“This is Momo, Crack, and Glasses in the middle—”
“You wound me.”
“Is Tyki Mikk.”
Tyki was not a name whose origin Lavi could place easily. He’d assumed that Cornelia had been picked because it was a fairly common British name and sounded well with the small family’s last name.
Cornelia Walker wasn’t even a year old yet, and thus Lavi quietly found himself doing the math. Cross’s letter had announced only Allen’s arrival and been dated about a year before Allen had actually managed to arrive at the Order. He knew that Lenalee thought Allen had been sent to the Order because of Cornelia, so she’d be safe while Allen killed Akuma.
Never mind that nobody expected Cross to be a capable guardian for a newborn. People had been fascinated enough with the fact he’d managed to raise a teenager.
The only thing connecting little Cornelia Walker to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. Otherwise, she was entirely Allen’s baby, from the pale complexion to the eyes and… Before meeting this Tyki, Lavi had assumed that she had Allen’s nose, but it actually resembled Tyki’s more closely. Still following through with his conclusions, Lavi pretended to be shocked at Allen’s gambling skills, the way he won back Krory’s clothes and dignity before stripping his old friends of theirs.
“Royal Straight Flush,” Allen announced once more with a smile as the others tossed their cards, not at all angry, more amused.
“They’re used to this,” Eeez said, this time in English. It was accentuated but still pretty good. Lavi could hear the same kind of pitter-patter pronunciation Allen sometimes fell back on when he was careless or exhausted. He must have taught the boy how to speak the language. How curious, it spoke for longer exposure to Allen. This definitely added to Lavi’s growing suspicion that Allen hadn’t just taken the long way round to the Order.
As did the fond glances Allen couldn’t keep off his face.
He could have stayed with this group. They were obviously aware of Allen’s status, but they seemed to have no trouble with it. Without needing to pay off his Master’s debt, Allen could earn enough to settle down somewhere. If they stayed near a mining town, the group wouldn’t even have to break up or work in a different branch.
There’d be no little niece for Komui to fuss over or dress up in her father’s absence. The Order would have remained entirely unaware of Allen Walker’s presence until someday along the way, somebody would dig out the one letter Cross had hurriedly written. And by then, they’d have assumed that Allen Walker had died on his way to the Order. Despite the tension of Allen’s shoulder, he was obviously at ease with this group, was at home, whereas he still hadn’t settled completely at the Order.
He could have abandoned the Akuma for them, this odd broken little family, but he hadn’t. The Destroyer of Time had marched on, wrapped his new gift up in cuddly blankets and climbed up a mountain.
Perhaps Lavi should tell him of the Order’s gruesome history, its horrible present. Would the boy have chosen to take his daughter there if he knew what lingered behind the black walls? Lavi had no doubt that if someone else sat in Komui’s office, little Cornelia would be tested weekly for resonance with an Innocence piece given that her father was an Accommodator. Then again, that doll that acted as her babysitter had taken a liking to her and Lavi doubted it was just because of the sentience it possessed.
The train ride passed in relative peace despite the gambling with the miners talking of their travels and Allen returning with stories of his own, carefully modified to leave out any signs of Akuma or his daughter.
He had no intention of telling them.
Lavi’s job was to record history, not to teach it.
He didn’t have to tell them either. Most likely, this encounter would remain a footnote in Allen Walker’s biography.
The odd group had to leave the train before them, and their goodbyes were sweet and kind, warmer and lingering, a farewell that nobody wanted. Eeez hugged Allen once more and Momo and Crack both gave Allen a nudge and tousled his hair fondly.
When it came to Tyki, Lavi paid attention. Accommodator yet or not, someday Cornelia’s history might become relevant, and they’d need all the details.
“Take good care of yourself, menino,” Tyki said, making no move to embrace Allen, touch him in any way. How curious that he’d chosen distance when he so obviously wanted to reach for the opposite. Lavi had seen a hundred stories like this already, how bitter love like this must be.
At moments like this, Lavi was glad that he was forever exempt from such heartbreak.
“I’m not the one always on the road, running off doing odd jobs,” Allen countered with a soft smile, a joke that failed to hide any of the pain. “Take care of yourself as well.”
The group left the train, and it was only as the machine was already departing that Tyki tossed something at Allen, the same playing cards they’d used earlier. Lavi watched quietly as Allen looked through the cards until melancholy turned his lips upwards.
“Hearts this time,” Allen muttered under his breath, likely not meant to be picked up by Lavi’s ears.
He packed the cards into the pocket of his coat and wrapped it tightly around his body as if to keep out the imaginary cold. When Allen looked up, his eyes fixed on Lavi, he seemed torn between determination and desperation.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Allen said, or perhaps ordered. “Please.”
So it hadn’t gone unnoticed that Lavi had uncovered his little secret.
Checking that Krory was still out of earshot, busy carrying their luggage to this empty compartment, Lavi chose to engage. “Why not tell him?”
Allen shrugged, then smiled just a bit pained. “His world is different from ours. They don’t have much cash, so I wouldn’t dump a child on them, and it would be careless to ask Tyki, and the others by extension, to step into the nightmare that is our reality. It’s better this way.”
Lavi hummed in agreement, thinking on the report he’d make to Bookman. Allen Walker, despite his cheerful optimism, could be quite realistic, almost painfully so.
They didn’t tell the families of their Finders about the deceased either.
Ignorance, wounding as it might be, left you with nothing to mourn or miss.
(Later, bound to a chair, the Fourth Apostle screaming at him, Lavi would remember his past assessment and laugh at his naivete.)