The first time they meet, it’s nothing remarkable. Well, as unremarkable as mostly-naked train poker can be. Tyki’s too focused on the boy he doesn’t know is Allen Walker to really pay attention to his friends, though that mess of red is hard to miss. Lavi is, as always, observant, but there isn’t really any reason to pay more attention to any one stranger than the others, especially when there’s an opportunity to observe another side of the Destroyer of Time and their new vampire teammate.
Later on, though, something strange about that one guy bothers Lavi all the way to China.
Between the first and second times is Lavi, standing in a bamboo forest over a pool of blood. He sees the Noah with Allen, understands what’s happening the first time but he has to play it another time through anyway, and it scares him how much hate stirs inside him for a face he believes he’s never seen before. He’s not supposed to feel emotion at all, but here’s all this grief and here’s all this fury, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.
The second time, the fury comes back with barely a glimpse. Perfect memory and all, and so he’s there on impulse but it’s okay because it’s the middle of a battle. Bookman can’t reprimand him for being too invested if he’s busy fighting for his life, and so he does. It’s a new feeling, to be on hair-trigger alert, every word uttered from the enemy’s mouth something tailor-made to taunt him. It’s a new feeling to have the taunting work, and for every reaction to be genuine.
Tyki, meanwhile, really sees Lavi for the first time. If Allen’s contradictions and resolution amuses him, then Lavi’s Bookman status and transparent struggling intrigues him. He’s a little fiery burning thing of violence, so very full of life and pointing all that spirit straight at Tyki, and he really can’t help but let both sides of him be interested.
There isn’t much interaction to be had the third time they meet, but it’s the last chance for any true pleasantness to exist between them. Road steals Lavi, unfortunately, but Tyki’s content with Allen Walker, Destroyer of Time, all the things that Lavi isn’t and is at the same time. After that, Lavi’s buried with his Ace of Spades and Tyki falls into his own darkness, and then things fall apart too much to put back together.
Right now, Lavi is within Tyki’s reach, but the window for a happy ending closed a while ago.
But maybe, in a more forgiving world, where Tyki’s flaws don’t go so far as murder, and clash less with the morals Lavi pretends he doesn’t have:
Here’s a situation: Lavi’s late biking to work at the little bookshop his adoptive grandfather owns, and Tyki is wandering lazily across the street with a sandwich in his mouth and groceries in hand for his brother’s family that he’s temporarily staying with (read as: freeloading off of).
Here’s a problem: Lavi already has troubles with depth perception, and even one eye isn’t much help if he isn’t even looking at the road (he knows checking his watch won’t actually make time go any slower, but a guy can hope, right?) and Tyki has better things to worry about than potentially being run over (like avoiding Road before he can be roped into doing her homework).
Here’s their meeting: Lavi nearly flies off the bridge with the impact and Tyki’s both lucky and sturdily built, and so when Lavi looks up along the offered hand, up a nicely-sculpted arm, and meets a smug little out-of-place smirk, he’s accepted the challenge before he knows what it is.
“Sorry about that, really.” Tyki knows he’s essentially apologizing for being run into by a bicycle, and Lavi sees it. “You need a band-aid?” Lavi’s bleeding from the knees and elbows, a little. It’s not pleasant.
“No, I’m all right, thanks!” He chirps as bright as if he’s competing with the songbird that woke him up at five this morning, and he’s really angry actually but he’s so determined not to show it. So, so determined. “Terribly sorry, my bad for not watching where I was going.”
“Oh, no, the fault was all mine. Mr…?” His eyes roam up and down like he’s looking for a nametag, which doesn’t make sense unless Lavi assumes he’s being checked out.
“Lavi.” His grin is wide and a little on the sharp side, and Tyki’s own smile widens at that like he’s pleased and surprised. “Say, can I have your number? In case of, like, you pass out later and I’m in legal trouble or whatever.” It’s a terrible excuse.
Tyki leans in, grabs his entire arm to slowly, deliberately scrawl the digits on Lavi’s wrist. “Of course. I look forward to hearing from you.“
