[For a moment, it's as if Bixing's voice is overlaid by someone else's. A smaller, younger someone. White hair, red scar, and that same weight on his shoulders. Something bobs in Lavi's throat, and he swallows it down, even as he lets himself feel. For once. Grief and mourning are not emotions encouraged in those of the Black Order, but Lavi's not in that world anymore.
He can feel grief here, lying on the floor while Bixing's just a few inches above. Both of them looking up at the ceiling. He can feel sadness, his own and Bixing's, without wondering if someone out there wants to manipulate it.]
...Gotta keep walking, right?
[He can mourn too -- on the fate of those the world depends on, even when they lose the person they love most.]
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He can feel grief here, lying on the floor while Bixing's just a few inches above. Both of them looking up at the ceiling. He can feel sadness, his own and Bixing's, without wondering if someone out there wants to manipulate it.]
...Gotta keep walking, right?
[He can mourn too -- on the fate of those the world depends on, even when they lose the person they love most.]
...How'd you die?