Epilogue — Hope

Hope is a thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings a tune — without the words, and never stops at all,

And the sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm that could abash the little bird, that kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, and on the strangest sea; yet, never, in extremity, it asked a crumb of me. — Emily Dickinson

May 14th

"I really hate to be leaving this place," said Lavi as he nestled the last of his books into a cardboard box. He looked fondly around the room. Yuu's side was nearly bare. He'd been much more on top of the whole packing thing. The last of his decorations had been pulled from the wall the night before, and even the mess beneath his covers had been organized and put away.

Though he'd cleared out his closet, desk, and now his books, his decorations still remained on the wall. Over the second half of the semester, he had slowly filled the wall with pictures. His corkboard had drowned out of sight from the sheer number of them all, but Lavi could tell where it was, as all his favorite pictures hung from it. His current favorite, one of all of them with their skis and winter clothes posing on the front porch of the timeshare cabin, was pinned in a place of honor at the very center. They'd gotten out a rusty old tripod, and Lenalee had shouted orders at them until everything was aligned perfectly. Allen was trying to give Yuu rabbit ears, but he was just too short, even on tiptoes. His face showed strain like someone trying to shit on command, but that was probably because Yuu had elbowed him in the stomach. He'd then wrapped an arm around Lavi's shoulders like nothing had happened. The flash had gone off just as Lavi sank into the embrace.

"I can tell," said Yuu, gesturing at pile upon pile of Lavi's things. Lavi stuck his tongue out. "Hurry up. Tiedoll wants us out before the afternoon rush."

"You could help, you know."

"I could…" he replied in a way that made it clear he wouldn't.

"Next thing I know, you'll be calling it 'character building,'" Lavi muttered. Yuu guffawed.

"I'll help in a bit. Some of us have a final this morning."

"Oh, please, you're going to ace that. I helped you study for it."

"Not all of us have perfect memories," Yuu said, frowning down at his textbook. It was the first time in the entire year that Lavi had seen him use his desk.

"Considering how much I drilled you on it, your preparation was more than exceptional. Stop worrying about it. You'll blank."

"That's easy for you to say," Yuu said. Lavi walked over to their mini-fridge and grabbed a banana. He missed Yuu by nearly two feet, but it at least smacked into the wall and fell onto Yuu's desk.

"Damn this stupid eye to hell," Lavi growled.

"What the hell, Lavi?"

"Bananas help with nerves," he said, turning back to his wall of pictures. With caution, he began peeling them away from the wall. On those that retained stickiness from the tape that held most of them up, he pressed a small square of parchment paper. Most were fine, but some that had been placed on the wall with sticky-tack had to go into the bin. Lavi wrote those down (he'd catalogued them all by number) so he could get them reprinted.

Yuu never understood why he insisted on printing out all of these pictures, and Lavi had never been able to explain it well enough. There was something about having a physical copy of these memories. Of course, he could always look at them on his computer, but in that form, they were only data, easily erased, quickly forgotten. Having something he could hold in his hand reminded him in a visceral manner of all that had occurred during the course of the school year, reminded him that it had all been real.

It was strange, now, thinking back to those months and remembering how easily everything had changed. He'd been so desperate to be on his own. At the time, he'd thought it had to do with eagerness to end his apprenticeship, but now he thought perhaps he'd been unconsciously searching for a way out. In a way, he'd been drowning, unable or afraid to take a breath for fear of reprisal.

Meeting Yuu had been like someone throwing him a life jacket as he drowned in a stormy ocean. It had been his first full breath of air for as long as he could remember—since before the fire that had killed his parents, probably.

Or maybe Yuu had been a hand reaching out in a darkness he hadn't realized he was wandering through, ushering him, guiding him back to the light, back to life. He smiled to himself. He was being silly and "badly poetic," as Yuu would put it. As if Lavi didn't notice him smiling when he thought Lavi had looked away.

That fluttery feeling in his stomach returned in full force. It had been doing that a lot lately. Sometimes, it made him feel like he was floating. Perhaps the life jacket simile had been accurate after all.

He waved as Yuu left the room, banana in hand, a few minutes later. "Good luck!" He called as Yuu closed the door. He heard a tiny chuckle from the hallway.

With Yuu (and therefore all distractions) gone, Lavi made good time of stripping his living space bare. He worked industriously for a good hour until all he had left to do was pack up some knick-knacks (he had knick-knacks now—and not just to look normal!), remove his bedding, and sulk until Yuu got back.

A knock came at the door. It was the RA.

"Hey," said Lavi.

"Hi there. This came for you, but the envelope's too thick to fit in your mailbox. The packaging center sent it here, though, so, uh… here you are."

The RA shoved the package into his hands, a thick manila envelope, doubled over and secured with layer after layer of clear packaging tape.

"Thanks," said Lavi.

"No prob." The RA turned and walked down the hallway, raising an arm to wave. "Have a good summer!"

Smiling, Lavi closed the door and returned to his bed. Shit, he'd packed his scissors, and Yuu's were… well, to be honest, he'd never known where Yuu kept his scissors anyway. He caught sight of Mugen leaning against the duffle of gear at the foot of Yuu's bed.

Yuu would kill him.

Oh well. He'd apologize with kisses.

The blade's sharp edge cut through the tape easily. Lavi replaced it with care to the exact spot he'd grabbed it from—though he did have trouble sheathing it again, eventually having to do it by touch. His stupid left eye would be the end of him. Everyone talked about how it was such a miracle, how happy he must be to have its use again.

But Lavi hated it. He'd lost his eye fair and square. He'd dealt with it. He'd worked through the anger and sense of loss, the reality of having to relearn how to see and move in the world. The constant stress headaches if he read for too long. The ways he had to turn his head. Now he'd turn his head to see, only to be assaulted by a barrage of moving images. It was a daily struggle to keep the nausea from becoming vomit. He'd rebuilt his core identity, the tiniest kernel of self the Bookmen had allowed, on the basis of one eye, on the premise that he would have to work twice as hard as any other apprentice to observe. And he had done it.

And now, just as abruptly, that had been taken from him. He didn't know how to deal with it.

His heart pounded as he slid the envelope's contents onto his bed. A manila folder, bent in a U around a slim four-by-six box, landed with a muted plop on the mattress. He removed the rubber bands that connected folder to box and opened it.

The first document was a letter to him from the Bookmen, a simple statement confirming his cutting of ties with the organization and a written notice stating that he would receive no further communications from them, that they were relinquishing all rights and responsibilities of his care to himself. They explicitly stated that they no longer considered him a member of their organization, thus freeing him from all binding agreements made during his service with him, save for confidentiality.

There it was. A statement declaring his freedom, as sacred to him as his own life. His hands shook as he turned to the next document.

Unlike the previous letters, this document spanned forty pages, all in dense legalese. It contained a non-disclosure form, along with various confidentiality statements. It also informed him that since they had erased his former identity, it was easier to use his last designation for his new one, though they had—very kindly, in their estimation—included his original birth and death certificates. How thoughtful. On the last page, there was space for yet another (he'd counted 18 thus far) signature, this last one agreeing to the separation with the Bookmen.

In the small box, he found a social security card, a Massachusetts state ID, an American passport, and a birth certificate under his new name, all freshly minted, as well as the promised originals of his birth and death certificates. He glanced at the latter with a sense of surreal amusement. He thought he might frame it to hang in his house, once he graduated and bought one.

Not knowing what else to do with them, he tucked everything except the ID into his backpack. He'd sign the non-disclosure forms once he'd had a chance to look over it with Tiedoll's lawyer. Then, getting out his wallet, he slid the ID into place under the plastic. They'd used the same picture as on his college ID. He smiled ruefully, shaking his head, not wanting to know how they had managed that.

His heart felt lighter than it had since Christmas. It was really happening. He was done with the Bookmen, and now, finally, the Bookmen were done with him. He'd never taken much stock in the concept of hope before, but he couldn't deny that as the weeks since spring break passed, the feeling had grown stronger and stronger. Now, he thought he might burst with it. If this was true happiness, he was glad to finally know it.

Yuu returned, back straight, arrogant grin on his face.

"It went well?" Lavi asked.

"Of course it did," said Yuu. "You helped me study."

"Really? Not the banana?" Lavi asked airily.

Yuu chuckled. "That too."

He ran over and threw his arms around Yuu's neck. They held each other tightly, Yuu's arms coming around his waist and squeezing him.

There had been no noticeable side effects from the removal of the lotus—well, none beyond Yuu's rather high estimation of what his body could take without the enhanced healing. He'd bruised his arm when Daisya had jumped on him during a weekend visit home back in April. All that weekend, and for the full week that followed, he had complained—actually complained—about the inconvenience. Lavi had laughed (the first few times), kissing him on the cheek, and told him, "welcome to mortality." That had earned him a glare, soon followed by a peck on the lips.

He smiled into Yuu's neck.

"I'm glad you're back," he said. "Look what came while you were out." He waved toward the documents on his bed. Yuu peeled away to take a look.

"Looks like it's all over, then," he said, laying a hand on Lavi's shoulder.

"Looks like it," said Lavi. And with no sign of Jason or any other suspicious activity since that night, this would spell the end of the whole affair. That extreme lightness hit Lavi again. "Glad they got to it before the semester ended."

"It's not like they don't know where you'll be this summer," said Yuu. Lavi whacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"Watch it, I'll bruise," said Yuu in mock-reproach.

"Yes, poor fragile Yuu-chan," said Lavi, grinning like a fool. Yuu pulled him back into his arms, tackling him with kisses everywhere. His hand moved down along Lavi's back before making a sudden grab at his ass. Lavi squealed, and the two of them fell to the floor.

It would have gone further, Lavi thought, except Yuu's phone rang. It was his Tiedoll tone—accordion music of some indeterminate folky European style. Sighing, Yuu pulled out his phone.

"You here?" He asked. A pause. Then, "Alright, we'll be ready when you are." He ended the call before Tiedoll could continue speaking, and he slid out from underneath Lavi.

"Come on, Rabbit," he said, tweaking Lavi's nose, "let's get your packing done. Tiedoll will be here in about an hour. Well, he says twenty, but what with traffic, my guess is it'll be closer to an hour."

He helped Lavi up, and they embraced before gathering the last of his things.

Tiedoll had insisted Lavi stay with them. He collected people like most others collected rocks or those weird, tiny spoons from tourist attractions. But Lavi hadn't protested. He had nowhere else to go, and no money to go nowhere on. Actually, he was really looking forward to it. A whole summer with Yuu.

A whole summer with his family.

Before he knew it, they'd finished packing, he and Yuu had finished cleaning the room—including a sticky patch of tiles between the mini-fridge and Yuu's bed, the origin of which neither of them could actually remember—and all their boxes had been loaded into Tiedoll's SUV. They stood outside room 117, probaby for the last time, Lavi with his hand on the door, sighing.

It was similar to the feeling he had when he had been forced to change personas, or when he had finished a particularly detailed log book. He'd never been able to pinpoint the feeling before, stunted as he'd been, but he recognized it now. Nostalgia.

Nostalgic for the time spent in their little home, for the personal growth that had occurred within. Nervous for what lay ahead.

Tiedoll went out to get the car started. Yuu did one last sweep of the room, and Lavi followed with his keen eye. He had to close the left one when he wanted to concentrate on what he was seeing. Yuu told him he'd get used to the second eye in time, but Lavi didn't believe him. What had been trained under the Bookmen could not be reproduced so easily. Probably. Maybe he would try.

At last, they locked the door for the last time and departed.

People rushed by with boxes, frantically coordinating in shouts, trying to load everything before it became unmanageably busy. Yuu took Lavi's hand as they braved the crowd.

"I'm a little sad to leave," Lavi said as they set their keys down on the table manned by the RAs.

"Me too," said Yuu as they left the hall. "Though after everything that happened this year, I'm also really glad it's over."

Lavi laughed. "Yeah, I get that."

"Everything's changed so much since I first walked into that room."

They passed Lizzie, who waved as they walked by. She was surrounded by people, including her senator father and his security detail. Her mother was busy yelling at someone—was that a hired mover?—for wrinkling something while they loaded a half-size U-Haul truck. Lavi didn't think anyone could have quite that much stuff, but he shrugged, waving back.

They ended up stuck behind someone who had blocked the sidewalk with several suitcases, a TV, more boxes than looked like would fit into a triple, and what looked like a whole fleet of two wheelers, each manned by progressively more drunk frat boys. Lavi and Yuu ended up darting through traffic around the whole affair.

"You know," Yuu said softly as they stepped back onto the sidewalk, "when we first met, I hated how cheerful you were.

Lavi paused, waited for him to continue talking. They were in no rush. Tiedoll had had to park his van in a lot three blocks from the dorm. He'd severely underestimated the traffic, and by the time he had arrived, two hours past his original estimate, no parking had been available in the zoo that was this part of campus.

"It took me a long time to understand you. I didn't, at first—understand, I mean; I was so wrapped up in trying to keep my head above water that everything you did seemed so effortless. I was envious, I think, of how you would constantly come off as happy, cheerful… so vibrantly alive."

Lavi squeezed his hand. Yuu smiled, a little pained, but continued.

"And because I envied you, I resented you for it. I wanted so badly to blend in like you did, and I hated that I couldn't. Each time I cut myself or had trouble getting out of bed for class, I'd look over at you and see how easy you had it, and I hated you for it. I hated myself for it."

"I wasn't happy, though," said Lavi, reaching over and taking his other hand so they were facing one another.

Yuu's smile turned rueful.

"Yeah, I realized that pretty quickly. I'm not sure when, but fairly early on, I realized it was just an act, that you were fighting as hard as I was."

Neither of them had ever put that sentiment into words.

"You know, I was the same way," Lavi said. "I think, deep down, I resented how genuine you were."

Yuu snorted. "Genuine? Hardly."

"You were, though," said Lavi. "You always showed how you felt, even if how you felt was usually angry or annoyed or sad. I was jealous, I suppose you could say, that you could be who you were."

"If you say so," said Yuu. He didn't roll his eyes, but Lavi could sense it in his tone. He kissed him lightly. When they parted, Yuu spoke again.

"I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't forced me to confront it. Looking back at it now, it really feels like you were the one who saved me."

Lavi stared at him, speechless. The very concept was so absurd, he couldn't stop the laugh that burst from his mouth.

"What?" Yuu asked, drawing back.

"Nothing," he said, gasping a little as he tried to regain control of himself. "It's just… it's just that I've spent this entire time knowing that you saved me. It just seems a little ridiculous to think of it in the reverse."

"Well, it's true," Yuu grumbled, looking down, a blush tinting his cheeks.

Lavi laughed, this time in joy. Yuu shot him a glare, but Lavi said, "I love you."

Yuu smiled, a bright smile that lit his whole face.

Dropping Lavi's hands, he began to walk again. Lavi stood there for a moment, stunned. He'd never seen such a radiant, unguarded expression on his boyfriend before. Then, smiling, he took off after him, running a few paces to catch up, grabbing his arm as he did. In the distance, Tiedoll waved at them, and they sped up, no longer afraid of what future was set out before them.

—

A/N: That's all, folks! :) Despite what the hiatus might imply, we really enjoyed writing this and sharing it with you. Thanks for all your support over the years. =^_^=