Welcome Home

Kazuma finally decides to return home to Japan, taking his lover Barok with him. Barok experiences the culture shock of coming to Japan, but also finds beauty in this country that matches the beauty he finds in his lover.

The steamship continued its trip toward its destination to Japan. Only about a month ago, Kazuma said his heartfelt goodbyes to his friends and everyone in London. Herlock and Iris promised to visit them, while Gina gave him the usual, ‘be sure to tell 'Oddo I said hi.’ She certainly had a bite to her but shewas a well-respected Detective that always searched every crime scene through rain or snow. Her dog Toby was certainly helpful in sniffing out clues as well.

Kazuma knew without a doubt he was going to miss them. Though, not as much as Barok would miss them. He could imagine how hard it was for his mentor to decide to finally leave London and everything referring to the Reaper behind. What surprised Kazuma, however, was Barok’s decision to move in with him into the Asogi family home. His disdain for the Japanese had cooled down since his trial about two years ago, but the pain that came with the Professor, Genshin Asogi and everythingleading up to himbecoming the Reaper still lingered. It hadnever truly healed, thus why he haddecided to finally move away from London.

Barok was found sitting in his cabin room and reading a book that was Japanese literature. Even despite all of his hatred, he’d never forgotten the Japanese language. There was a time in his life when he loved the Japanese and their culture. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about it: its culture, lore, language and literature. It was only after Genshin was labeled as the Professor that he began avoiding everything he had learned. It wasn’t to say they were forgotten. Perhaps his old admiration for the Japanese never truly left him either. After all, the man he fell helplessly in love with was a Japanese man that was Genshin’s one and only son.

“My lord, the weather is fine and the ocean is magnificent today,” Kazuma said.

“Is that so?” Barok asked, still reading the book in his hands.

“Very much so. A good day for a good view.”

“… do you wish for me to accompany you?”

“Yes.”

Barok closed the book, replying, “very well.”

Barok and Kazuma walked up to the ship deck, both dressed in their kimonos. Kazuma’s kimono was a crimson red with a black jacket, a white juban and a gray belt. Barok’s kimono was a pale blue with a navy-blue jacket, a white juban and a bronze belt. He kept his brother’s badge pinned to his outfit in the middle. Kazuma smiled contently andheld his mentor’s hand, smelling the scent of the ocean air. It was nice.

“I love you,” Kazuma heard his mentor whisper in his ear. They were such simple words, but the way they were said was so soft and lovely like the pedal of a Sakura. For a man that could never understand the art of flirtation, his words could make Kazuma feel like jelly. Thankfully, Barok held him close to his chest. Kazuma clutched Barok’s jacket tightly, his lips puckered into something like the shape of a heart. Barok caressed Kazuma’s face, his lips only an inch from his. “Kazuma.”

“A-Are you trying to kill me?” Kazuma choked, his lips trembling. “You keep talking like that and I won’t be able to breathe.”

“Kazuma~” Barok whispered into his lips, his breath blowinginto Kazuma’s open mouth. Kazuma swallowed inhis throat, trying to remind himself how to breathe. Before he knew it, those lips captured Kazuma’s. “Kazuma~”

“Mmmmmmmmm~” Kazuma moaned helplessly into the kiss before they parted, panting.

“Forgive me for such public indecency, but I could not resist such beauty,” Barok muttered, pink dusting his cheeks. Kazuma could feel some redness upon his face as well.

“You’re not being very fair, you know.”

“I’m aware. Nonetheless, I speak the truth.”

“… you’re like the gentle waves on a beach,” Kazuma said calmly.

“Must your ways of expressing your love be poetic?”

“Do you not like it, my lord?”

“I do, but it astounds me that you prefer that over saying three words.”

“Hm…. just saying those three words isn’t enough for me. Call it a preference.”

“Hm.”

Barok’s arms snaked around Kazuma’s waist. Kazuma rested his head against his mentor’s chest, his eyes fluttered closed. He muttered quietly, “you feel nice with a kimono.”

“It’s only right that I dress the same as the people kind enough to welcome me into their country.”

“That’s got me curious. What made you decide to stay there? Even if your disdain has cooled, does this country not bring you bad memories?”

“Perhaps, but my disdain was never logical to begin with. I had only met a few Nipponese. Perhaps, if I surround myself with them and live among them, my opinion of them will finally be put to rest. Falling in love with you has already proven that each Nipponese is different. I once considered them asbeing always kind and polite with control over their emotions.”

“And, now you… don’t?”

“You have a horrid temper and are not one for etiquette.”

“Yet, you love me?”

“I love your lack of etiquette. I have too much of it back at home and… it’s nice to have someone I can be frank to, knowing he will not take offense to my equally hot head or brutal honesty.”

“It’s an honor,” Kazuma grinned, turning his head to kiss Barok’s lips.

Barok couldn’t predict how long it felt until he and Kazuma finally reached Japan. He spent most of his time reading or entertaining Kazuma, who was constantly trying to pull him out of the cabin. However, once the ship reached its destination, he and Kazuma made their way off the ship to a welcome party created by Ryunosuke and Susato. In all honesty, Barok should have expected this, considering how close Kazuma was to them. All of them showed their joyful and heartfelt smiles in seeing their dear friend again.

“Welcome back, Kazuma-sama,” Susato greeted.

“It’s good to be back. I had almost forgotten what home smelled like,” Kazuma greeted back.

“Oh, that’s not good! I hope you didn’t lose your sense of smell too!” Ryunosuke teased, pretending to be horrified as Kazuma laughed.

“Ah, and welcome to the Empire of Japan, Lord van Zieks,” Susato greeted, taking a formal bow.

“I must say, I never thought I’d see the day you’d step onto our humble land. Such a unique change,” Dr. Mikotoba said with a smile.

“Your welcome is truly an honor. I never thought I’d find myself here, yet here I am,” Barok sighed, his eyes glancing over towards Kazuma. “Didn’t you say you needed help in the Asogi household?”

“Oh yes! Thankfully, it should be left as I last saw it,” Kazuma agreed, rubbing his chin.

“Do you need any help?” Ryunosuke offered.

“It’s only a few things. Besides, I wouldn’t want to wear your strength before any court cases tomorrow.”

“Hm… I suppose that’s true,” Ryunosuke replied, rubbing his chin. Then, he smirked. “Are you preparing to get your Prosecutor armband? You pretty much passed all the credentials.”

“Yes. The Bar Association informed me that I will need to pick up my armband at the moment of my arrival. It should be ready for me first thing in the morning.”

“Surprisingly, it took a much shorter time for Kazuma to obtain his right to prosecute in his own country. A whole year was enough to call him a professional,” Barok stated, facepalming.

“Well, he was formally a Defense Attorney for a few years before arriving at London and the qualifications to become both are very much the same, aside from the experiences required,” Dr. Mikotoba pointed out.

“I suppose you have a point, Professor,” Barok reluctantly agreed. Indeed, the qualifications for being a Defense Lawyer and Prosecuting Lawyer were the same, aside from the experience that came with it. Even the number of years of experience was the same. It likely explained how Kazuma managed to easily obtain the position of a Prosecutor, despite having no memory of his life. At the time, Barok hadassumed he must’ve been a Prosecutor or studied to be one in his past.

“Anyways, I left your carriage for you to travel home in,” Susato said.

“Thank you, Judicial Assistant Susato,” Kazuma thanked Susato, taking a bow.

“So, they do have carriages here,” Barok stated.

“Obviously. We may lack in advancement, but we have that much. However, considering where we’re going is away from the city… I hope you enjoy the ride,” Kazuma stated, showing a smug smirk with his arms behind his back.

Barok sighed and facepalmed, before muttering, “figures.”

“What’s wrong with driving carriages?” Ryunosuke asked.

“Nothing much, if he ever rode an open carriage that consisted of you driving yourself,” Kazuma grinned smugly before laughing.

“Such disrespect from you Ni- mngh,” Barok said before holding his tongue, glancing at his surroundings. Everyone was Japanese.

“What was that? Sorry, I couldn’t understandyou with your foreign tongue,” Kazuma mocked playfully. “Perhaps you should speak more Nipponese, don’t you think?”

“Ngh,” Barok groaned. Now, that he was in Japan, he could no longer mindlessly spout insults toward the people he was surrounded by left and right.

Barok and Kazuma made their way with their luggage to the carriage, Ryunosuke, Susato and Dr. Mikotoba insisting on helping at least pack the carriage. Now, having a better view of the land, Barok realized just how many Japanese citizens there were that spoke the Japanese language. It felt so foreign to him. He understood some and others, but there were many he didn’t understand at all. That wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst of it came from the people themselves and… their constant staring.

Barok began noticing this the moment he made his way to the carriage. Everywhere he looked, people: men, women, elders, youth, boys, girls and even children all turned their eyes upon him. It was often for the briefest of moments and mostly out of curiosity, but… it was as if they had seen a celebrity or an alien. Suddenly, Barok felt self-conscious. Did he truly look strange to them? Briefly looking at Ryunosuke and Kazuma, he began thinking, 'is this what they must deal with at my home?’ The more he thought about it, it wasn’t common to ever see a Japanese person in Great Britain. It was a rarity. To meet a Japanese foreigner, for anyone, would make any British citizen curious to see. Now, in this country where they came from, he was the foreigner.

“Well, looks like that is the last of them. Will you be alright on your way back? I know it’ll be a long ways away,” Dr. Mikotoba asked as Kazuma and Barok climbed up to the front of the carriage.

“I’ll be fine, Professor. My lord will be riding with me and, as you know, I did live in Hong Kong for half a year without memory, taking cargo to steamships,” Kazuma replied cockily.

“I know. That’s why I’m worried,” Dr. Mikotoba said sternly, showing worry in his eyes. “Please understand, I… we thought we lost you on that fateful trip.”

“… I-”

“Rest assured I will be looking after him as I have always done,” Barok assured.

“Kazuma will be fine, Mikotoba-sensei,” Ryunosuke added, showing a confident smile.

“Well then, that makes me feel a little better. Stay safe!” Dr. Mikotoba said, waving as Kazuma signaled the horses to trail off down the dirt road.

As the carriage made its way out of the city, Barok began to take notice of the landscape. England certainly had their greeneries, but nothing like this. He began seeing mountains and pink trees. The architecture of the houses was also unique. Everything from the doors, to the shades of the windows, to even the lamps was different. There was a certain beauty that could never be found in London. More importantly, it all felt… clean. It smelled clean too. There was no smell of sewage and the waters of the ocean were clear blue. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Barok began remembering how Genshin would talk about his home and its beauty. In his youth, Barok was fascinated and engaged by the description of Japan. He remembered wanting to go there and see the cherry blossoms. That must be what those pink trees were. Genshin said that the cherry blossoms were where lovers and married couples gathered. A thought came into his head of him and Kazuma spending a moment under those cherry blossoms with those pink petals falling gracefully onto his head. He’d love to see that.

There was a pool that seemed to have fencing around it with steam seeping from thearea. Barok asked, “is that…?”

“A hot spring. Ryunosuke and I have gone there often,” Kazuma stated offhandedly as Barok’s eyes bulged out, glaring at him.

“You and that… went there!?” He seethed, pointing to the hot spring.

“Yes, we… oh, that’s right, you Londoners don’t practice Onsen,” Kazuma cackled.

“Don’t laugh when you- ugh! You Nipponese are abhorrent! Have you no shame!?” Barok asked, his face glowing red.

“Says the man who didn’t mind sharing a bed with Albert.”

“That was different! We had our clothes on and were under two separate sheets and blankets!”

“And, I never saw anything from Ryunosuke than from his head to his waist. The hot springs never show anything under the water, because there’s so much steam everywhere. Honestly, the man isn’t even into men. You know that!”

“You were still close enough to- ngh!” Barok groaned, his cheeks reddening.

“You’re honestly jealous I took a bath with my best friend? I’m pretty sure you’ve seen and touched more of me than he ever would,” Kazuma smirked, rolling his eyes.

“This conversation is over!” Barok barked, his face looking away and skulking.

Perhaps it was childish to be angry over something that was no more than Kazuma spending time with his best friend and it wasn’t his fault that Barok was raised in a culture that was more private about exposing one’s nudity to another. Kazuma was raised in a culture where men naturally opened themselves to each other’sbodies without any thought of it. Even if he was attracted to men, that didn’t mean he lusted over his best friend while they were nude in the hot springs. Besides that, Kazuma did state that they had some form of privacy.

Regardless, it was still something Barok wanted with Kazuma. They had bathed together in Barok’s bathtub making love and, seeing that those hot springs were wider and more spacious, Barok wanted to have that there. He wanted to hold his lover in his arms and feel his skin that softened in those warm, steamy waters. He didn’t want to think that he shared that with anyone else.

“If you’d like, we can go to the hot springs later on today,” Kazuma said as Barok turned his head, his face showing bits of anger. Kazuma’s eyes were on the road. “My Onsen with Ryunosuke isn’t anything like what we have. We’ve only bathed ourselves and never touched anywhere.”

“I know! I… I know,” Barok said, taking a deep breath. “Please forgive me for my temper. I should be as understanding about the difference in how one treats their friends as you are with myself and Albert.”

“… actually, I was pretty upset when I realized you allowed Albert to share your bed a few times. I just… didn’t want to burden you with something childish,” Kazuma confessed, his cheeks reddened.

“… you should’ve told me. I didn’t…”

“You shouldn’t have to keep yourself from your friends for my sake. That would be selfish of me.”

“Even so, you should have at least told me. I shouldn’t have to burden you with grief.”

Kazuma smiled, leaning his head on Barok’s shoulder. His body felt so warm against Barok’s arm. Barok planted a small kiss on top of Kazuma’s head, smiling with his lips still lingering on that soft hair. Kazuma felt his heart flutter, keeping his attention on the road as the carriage trailed down it. It was going to be a ways away from the city that they had just left. It felt nostalgic remembering the Asogi home where his father hadtrained him back in the day. That was when his childhood friend, Raion Karuma, lived nearby where his family had owned a rice farm. These days, Raion was living on his own in Germany.

At last, Kazuma could see his family home in the distance. Barok saw the home Kazuma grew up in. Indeed, the architecture was different from the other homes he’d seen in Great Britain. The surrounding area was filled with luscious greenery. Surprisingly, it was well kept, though Barok assumed that perhaps a friend of the family had kept watch over the property until Kazuma’s return. Perhaps, Dr. Mikotoba had kept watch over it?

“I can see you’re curious,” Kazuma smirked. “A variety of family friends kept watch over the property while I was gone.”

“I’m to assume one of them was the Professor?” Barok asked.

“Yes. Ryunosuke and Judicial Assistant Susato also kept watch over it during their time here.”

“I see. It’s certainly beautiful.”

Kazuma parked the carriage inside the barn where the horses were kept. Afterward, he stepped off the front of the carriage, unhooked the straps to the horses, then guided them to their home – a fenced area with their feed, water and storage nearby – before feeding them. He and Barok left the horses’ home, closing the double-gated doors of the fence behind them before reaching the Asogi household. On their way, Barok noticed what looked to be a monument with Kazuma’s full name in kanji on the stone that was shown upon the cliff under a cherry blossom tree. Kazuma also took notice of this, snorting at the sight with a smirk upon his lips.

“Guess they never bothered taking that down after figuring out I was alive,” Kazuma grinned.

“Wasn’t that just a year or so ago?” Barok asked.

“Yes, though I doubt Ryunosuke has that kind of money to take it down. Not to mention, knowing him, I’m sure he wanted to use it for alternative purposes.”

“Hmph. The Nipponese are truly strange,” Barok muttered before entering the household behind Kazuma.

Barok was astounded by the difference in architecture inside the household, especially when first stepping inside. There was stone flooring where he was standing with a wooden step that led to the living room. He watched as Kazuma took off his boots, placing them on the top shelf that was located to the left of the entrance. He paused for a moment, eyes widened as if remembering something, then looked at Barok.

“I almost forgot. In Japan, it’s required to remove your footwear to not leave marks or scratches on the flooring. Unfortunately, our floors are much more fragile than the ones in Great Britain.”

“Of course,” Barok nodded, also removing his boots and placing them on the shelf beside Kazuma’s. Beside the shelf were slippers of different sizes. Barok placed those on his feet before walking on the wooden flooring into the living room area. Walking deeper, he noticed there was no fireplace, but a fire pit with a kettle and miniature stove that was surrounded by strange mats made out of straw of some kind. There was also a large table that was lowered close to the ground with individual cushions surrounding it. Barok could only stare with glaring eyes. “Don’t tell me…”

“Culture shock?” Kazuma teased.

“Don’t mock me! Are you also going to tell me that I may have to sleep on the floor as well?”

“No. It’s on a Futon, which is a rolled up-”

“I KNOW WHAT A FUTON IS!” Barok cried as Kazuma burst out laughing.

“Welcome to the Empire of Japan. There is a small couch, if you wish to sit down onsomething more familiar to you,” Kazuma grinned, pointing to the couch that was across from the fire pit.

“Lovely. I may even consider sleeping on it.”

“The couch can turn into a futon for you to sleep on, if you prefer a raised bed,” Kazuma mentioned, walking over to the hallway that reached three different rooms. “The one on the right is my room. You can choose the room up ahead or on the right. Both include a futon and a closet to place your clothes in. If you wish to use the toilet, that is located in the small room to the right of the barn but, fair warning, it’s… not the kind of toilet you’re used to and it stinks to high heaven.”

“It’s the one where I squat, isn’t it? Do I expect that it includes buckets underneath, which collect my waste before becoming fertilizer for your crops?” Barok asked, knowing the answer he would get, before Kazuma showed a grin, shrugging. “You Nipponese.”

“Seems like you’re already familiar with the place. I won’t need to say anything more. Tea?”

“Please.”

Kazuma began starting the fire in the fire pit. It still astounded Barok just how vastly different the architecture and the Japanese’s way of life were. Even the toilets were different. He made his way to the couch so that he could sit down. He used this time to take in all these new things. There was a huge difference, yet most of it was rather beautiful. London was foggy, ugly and polluted, yet this country was clean, colorful and beautiful. He had never seen mountains such as the ones he saw on his way over to the Asogi household.

Barok eventually decided to walk back outside, sitting on Kazuma’s old monument and looking out into the mountains and the ocean waves. Truly a marvel he had never seen anywhere in Great Britain, which had many marvelous sights. The ocean was clear blue, so much so that he could see the pebbles and rocks on the shallow bottom of the cliff. The cherry blossoms slowly fell from the tree he was sitting under. This was truly a marvel. This country had its strange customs and architecture, but it truly was beautiful.

All of this reminded Barok of Kazuma. Kazuma was brilliant and strong. He had strange customs and mannerisms, but his beauty truly showed in the way he smiled, found joy in his passions or spent time with loved ones. The way his hair laid so naturally with its silky softness in each strand, his eyes knowing when to be gentle orrough and his loyalty to Barok regardless of his faults. No other man was willing to show pure anger, yet stay by his side no matter the cost. Barok had always known, the moment he realized he was falling for the amnesic apprentice, that his country’s origins no longer mattered. He remembered thinking that, if this apprentice turned out to be the son of the man that killed his brother, he would continue to guard him with his life. His love for Kazuma could never be moved by whose blood flowed in his veins because of how blinded Barok was by his beauty. He was the hunter sent to kill the fairest of them all and could not raise his blade, because his target was far too beautiful.

The sound of tea pouring could be heard as Barok turned his head to find Kazuma in a Yukata that was white with sleeves filled with red stitched flowers. He was pouring hot tea inside a steaming kettle, then giving the cup to Barok with two hands, the kettle being set on a large stone nearby. Barok took the cup of tea in his hands, allowing the fragrance to fill his nostrils, and smiled.

“Thank you,” Barok said, sipping the tea.

“Of course, my lord,” Kazuma replied, taking a bow.

“Kazuma, I wish to hold you in my arms.”

“Of course,” Kazuma nodded, sitting on Barok’s lap and allowing him to take him into his strong arms. Kazuma’s head laid upon Barok’s shoulder with a small, dreamy smile.

“Welcome home,” Barok whispered.

“It’s good to be home,” Kazuma whispered back as he felt callused lips brush against his. How did Genshin manage to bring forth this beautiful angel into this world? Barok would never get an answer, but he was thankful Kazuma existed. This is where he truly belonged, now and forevermore.

Barok is expecting his family to pay him a visit by tomorrow. This leaves Kazuma stressed, expecting that he will not be liked or excepted for being the son of the one that killed Klint van Zieks. Thankfully, Barok, Herlock and Iris are more than happy to lift Kazuma’s spirits, including a surprise guest that crashes the reunion that day.

It had been almost a year since Ryunosuke left to return to Japan. Kazuma, of course, chose to remain in London to continue what was supposed to be his World Tour. This time, however, he would do so as a Prosecutor. Another thing that had changed was living arrangements. Originally, Dr. Mikotoba had assigned him to stay over at Herlock Sholmes’ place, like what happened with Ryunosuke, but he decided to remain in Barok’s estate. He had his own separate living space and was allowed the freedom to do whatever he wished.

Barok’s estate included some housing, originally for servants, but he had dismissed a majority of them since his brother’s passing. He offered one of them to Kazuma, while he suffered from amnesia. As payment for room and board, he was required to work for him as his apprentice. He had his very own kitchen, living room, furniture, training room, office, bedroom, storage room and anything he bought. It was nice and Kazuma preferred to have his own place over being cramped in an attic. Not to say he was an introvert, but he would always prefer having freedom.

Kazuma decided to use his kitchen to make himself some Beef Hot Pot. Of course, London didn’t have the same ingredients as his homeland, but he made do with what was available. At least the stove was easier to use. As he sauteed the beef and veggies, he heard a knock.

“Come in!” Kazuma called as the door opened, revealing Barok.

“I thought I’d inform you that I will be expecting family to be paying a visit in the next few days for a week,” Barok announced.

“Really? That’s good. I’m sure they will be happy to see you again.”

“Yes… forgive my curiosity, but what is that you’re making?”

“Beef Hot Pot. It was my favorite dish at Yumei University. Unfortunately, this country doesn’t provide the same ingredients here, but it seems the substitutes they have are manageable. Thankfully, they have stock. It always beats the broth.”

“Hm… admittedly, it smells delightful. You Nipponese never cease to amaze me,” Barok replied, showing a slight smile as Kazuma showed a smug response.

“I’m hurt. I thought you considered me the exception to my countrymen,” Kazuma teased, his hands on his hips.

“You are, but you are taking ingredients from my countrymen. I wasn’t aware Nipponese cooking was delightful.”

“Well, it isn’t like the food here is something to be desired,” Kazuma insulted playfully.

“What is that supposed to mean!? We have delightful food here!”

“Chicken.”

“Doesn’t count! Only YOU hate chicken!”

“Black pudding, Steak and Kidney Pie, Liver and Onion, Jellied Eels…” Kazuma continued smugly with his arms crossed.

“Now, you’re just choosing our undesirables those bastard frogs mock us for!” Barok glared, looking very annoyed.

“Oh, and my personal favorite,” Kazuma said, his index finger pointed in the air. “Faggots.”

Barok sighed, facepalming because that was his favorite dish that was considered undesirable. Kazuma burst into laughter, enjoying his teasing. Barok almost missed the days when Kazuma was mute, if not for the fact that he had other ways of teasing the man without speaking. Doing small things such as hiding his first chalice for weeks before finding it gone, only to find his faithful student drinking wine out of it. Suffering from Barok throwing his metal chalice was worth every minute.

Kazuma was insufferable with or without his voice. Barok could not understand what it was about this man that would make him so difficult. However, he couldn’t prevent himself from finding some charm to it. That charm grew to attraction, then…

Kazuma found a pair of lips pressed against his own. He couldn’t hold back a moan as he returned the kiss, smiling and laughing while doing so. Barok intended on deepening the kiss when his lover turned and left.

“Need to make sure my food doesn’t burn,” Kazuma said, making his way to the sauteed meat and vegetables. He took the food off the stove to pour it all inside the pot. Meanwhile, Barok was becoming more annoyed.

“Even while we… ugh. You’re deplorable!”

“I’m hungry,” Kazuma said, stirring in the stock and spices.

“So, food is more important than me?”

“Yes. I thought that was obvious,” Kazuma replied offhandedly.

“You-” Barok seethed before Kazuma plopped a spoonful of the hotpot in his mouth. His glare deepened before slowly, but surely, his eyebrows began to relax.

“Well?”

“…. it’s delightful,” Barok replied, his voice now softened with a dust of red on his cheeks.

“It is!” Kazuma bragged, then furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “So, what’s your family like? I’ve only ever heard of your brother and er…”

“Iris, yes. That’s actually why they’re coming, especially now that Mr. Sholmes has finally told her,” Barok explained, his eyes gazing to the side. “My family consists of my mother, uncle, younger sister and my sister’s husband.”

“Sounds like a bunch.”

“It is… I never told them about you… yet.”

“… why?”

“Kazu- they had believed your father murdered a beloved family member of theirs and many more. Now, they know that our family member was the Professor and… your father still…”

“I… no, you’re right. Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking about…”

“I know. You have a tendency to jump ahead without preparation. It’s a marvel that you still have your hands and feet intact.”

“… I didn’t tell mine about you either.”

“Hm?”

“I have family in my homeland, but… I couldn’t bring myself to tell them the truth, even now. I figured I’d tell them when I got home.”

“Do they know you’re intending to become a Prosecutor?”

“Not… really? Only that I’m alive and continuing my World Tour under you. As far as they know, father died from an illness.”

“… Ignorance is certainly a bliss.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Kazuma muttered.

Kazuma barely noticed Barok approaching him, holding him in his arms. Their relationship was already complicated as it was, but it seemed there would be further complications with Kazuma being the son of the man that killed their loved one. He still remembered the letter that disgraced the Asogi name. Did they also disgrace the Asogi name? Would they hate him? A thought occurred to Kazuma.

“Certainly… if I’m your student, then would that make me an exception?”

“I can’t be certain. I have told them I have a student, but I never mentioned your name or… country of origin.”

“I… see.”

“Forgive the discourtesy of not informing my family before they meet you.”

“We both have our regrets, my lord,” Kazuma muttered quietly as he closed his eyes. Barok gazed directly in the direction of the Beef Hot Pot.

“Your food will get cold.”

“A little while longer.”

“…”

Barok knew his relationship with his student would most certainly make things complicated for his family. It wasn’t just the fact that he was currently in a romantic courtship with Kazuma, but that there was any relationship at all. It was the fact that Kazuma, the son of the man that killed Klint van Zieks, was the proud student of Barok van Zieks. It was the fact that Kazuma was taken in under Barok van Zieks’ wing and offered a home in his estate that was once owned by Klint van Zieks. It was the fact that, much like Barok, his own family wasn’t fond of the Japanese people. Though, Barok at least had tried to improve and had taken a liking to a few of them. Of course, Kazuma wasn’t like the other Japanese. He was much more hotheaded.

——

Iris and Herlock had offered to help prepare for the van Zieks’ visitation. Both seemed optimistically excited about their visitation. Barok wasn’t sure how to explain to the young girl that his family may not like Kazuma that well, though Herlock seemed sure she could handle it well. Barok figured that Herlock could take care of Iris if any drama was to ensue. Kazuma seemed optimistic himself, though as the days came closer, it was becoming increasingly clear that the nerves and stress were getting to him.

Barok knew how to tell when Kazuma was nervous or stressed. It always depended on the food he made. After the announcement, he baked biscuits, lots of them that were strawberry or chocolate. The morning after, he made beans and gravy, something that was common in an English breakfast, but never by themselves. Of course, Kazuma didn’t care and claimed to just simply be in the mood for beans and gravy. Now, at midday, Barok decided to talk to Kazuma about his stress cooking.

“You realize Plum Pudding is a Christmas food, correct?” Barok said as Kazuma mixed the ingredients.

“I’m hungry.”

“And stressed.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re stress baking.”

Kazuma muttered something, then put down the bowl a little harder than expected. Barok sighed, placing his hand on Kazuma’s head. He held his lover, gently massaging his scalp as Kazuma let out a soft moan. A smile appeared upon Barok’s lips. His fingers did wonders with his massaging, moving them slowly to Kazuma’s forehead as that furrow between the young man’s brows began to slowly unfurrow. Then, fingers began to slowly move to the neck, making Kazuma moan even louder, then sweeter like honey once those fingers began traveling down his spine.

“It’s never enough,” Kazuma muttered sadly, allowing himself to be held in Barok’s arms.

“What do you mean?” Barok asked.

“It’s not going to matter if I make a good impression or not. So long as my father is the bane of their hatred like he was with you, nothing I do will ever be enough. They’ll only want more.”

“….”

“I was naive when I agreed to that assassination on Gregson. I thought that there’d certainly be something that would make me acceptable. Even so, Jigoku still threw me to the wolves. If being accepted by you won’t convince your family, nothing I do will ever be good enough.”

“We don’t know that,” Barok stated with a helpless voice.

“That tone doesn’t sound good.”

“Kazuma.”

“I don’t want to be told that I will never be good enough. I’m tired of it. It isn’t fair that I’m expected to be perfect in every way, then told to my face that it isn’t enough.”

“…. Kazuma.”

“What?” Kazuma asked, shooting a glare at Barok before feeling a small kiss placed upon his head. This kiss, from Barok, was enough to make Kazuma feel light.

“You’ve already proven yourself, while you had no memories. You are more than enough. If they cannot see it, then that is their own problem. They cannot tell me who to love or take in as my student.”

“Hmmmmmm,” Kazuma moaned, almost purr-like. His thin lips gaped slightly, tempting Barok to close them with his own pair of lips. They were so beautiful, how they shaped into a perfect O. He enclosed those lips with his own, tasting them with their lingering taste as a moan lingered long and beautifully.

“So wanting,” Barok said softly against those lips.

“Stop teasin-” Kazuma whined in a hoarse tone before his lips were taken by Barok’s mouth, teeth scraping gently against his lips, that tongue providing a gentle brush and his voice shuttering in a moan from that very kiss. How did he become unresistant and captivated by that mouth, those lips, those teeth? 

“Only if you open yourself up to me and tell me you love me,” Barok smirked slightly, kissing Kazuma’s tasty lips again, who moaned loudly and softly. Their tongues now melded together, Kazuma finally trying to talk through their kiss.

“I love yo- mmmmmmmmmmmph so- ahhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Stho…. muuuuuuuuuch,” Kazuma moaned lovingly in the kiss.

“I love you too,” Barok replied softly in a coo voice, caressing Kazuma’s face. “Better?”

“Very much. Forgive me for causing you to worry, my Lord.”

Barok shook his head, replying, “you are Nipponese and I have no doubt that has caused strife upon you, both from myself and the people of this country. The one who should be asking for forgiveness is me.”

“It is not my fault that you had believed my father had betrayed your trust.”

“That shouldn’t extend to any one of his family, not even you and especially not your people. It is no more fair if my brother’s actions caused Iris the same suffering. That is something my family should understand if nothing else. It isn’t fair that we only now realized that Klint had a child that he purposely kept away, so she would not have to face the punishment from the public that would know her as the daughter of a serial killer. It’s even less fair for you, whose father had done nothing, yet still suffered from the same repercussions.”

Kazuma sighed softly, allowing Barok to kiss him once more before they both heard a knocking. The door unlocked, and Barok already knew who it was. Sighing, he released Kazuma, then made his way to the living area.

“Ah, my lord, how are you and Dear Asogi fairing?” Herlock asked with his usual grin, Iris appearing behind him, performing a curtsy bow.

“Good day to you, Mr. Re- oh, I guess it's Uncle Reaper. Oh, but it doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Iris said almost sadly.

“You seem almost nonchalant for someone that has just been told of our relation,” Barok stated bluntly.

“Oh, I actually knew for over a year now. I overheard everything after your trial with Runo!” Iris explained as Barok found himself taken aback.

“Originally, my Dear Mikotoba thought we could tell her when she was about 13, but… she confessed her knowledge of it just a little over a month ago,” Herlock explained, bursting out laughing. “She’s a smart one, just like her old man.”

“That’s right, Daddy!” Iris replied gleefully. She had since picked up the habit of calling Herlock Daddy since Barok’s trial. The more he thought about it, it made sense when taking into consideration that she had known about her biological family the entire time.

“Ah, good morning, Mr. Sholmes,” Kazuma greeted. “I have some plum pudding cooking in the oven at the moment, if you all are interested.”

“Plum pudding? How odd. Isn’t that often served during Christmas? Not that I’d complain,” Herlock grinned.

“I’m sure you already knew,” Barok stated.

“That, you are correct, my good fellow!” Herlock grinned.

“Stress baking. Seems to be the common norm. Of course, Daddy tends to invent and experiment when he’s stressed or anxious about something. I’m more of the stress baker,” Iris shrugged.

“I could already smell the cooking from all the way in Baker Street, thus why we came along. That and Dear Mikotoba was worried about Dear Asogi when he heard the van Zieks’ were coming over,” Herlock explained before showing his more serious expression.

“Dr. Mikotoba was worried about me?” Kazuma asked, slightly frowning.

“He knows you well, my Dear Asogi. Even Mr. Naruhodo asked me to tell your mentor to make sure you were alright if we didn’t find you here.”

“Heh, Ryunosuke, that devil.”

“I can tell you straightforwardly that partners will always look after each other no matter how far they may be,” Herlock stated, a pipe to his mouth.

“Indeed.”

“As grateful as I am that you cared enough for Kazuma to enter my abode, I hope you realize that my family isn’t expected to appear until tomorrow,” Barok stated.

“Indeed. Not to say we can’t help prepare or fancy ourselves to Dear Asogi’s plum pudding,” Herlock said.

“I can help make my special blend of tea!” Iris grinned excitedly.

“I suppose I could use the help. Unfortunately, I don’t have as many servants since the days when my brother was here,” Barok sighed.

“All the more reason for us to help. I’m sure Dear Asogi wouldn’t mind the help with the cooking, so long as neither of you get too distracted,” Herlock teased with a slight grin.

“You…!” Barok glared, his cheeks flaring.

“We’d be delighted for the help,” Kazuma grinned, turning to Iris. “Perhaps you can help me finish the pudding, so Mr. Reaper can avoid any distractions.”

“You too and in front of a child!?”

“That would be wonderful!” Iris replied excitedly as she and Kazuma headed to the kitchen, Barok begrudgingly following with his face already as red as a cherry.

Kazuma was still a bit anxious, but having Iris and Herlock helping prepare the mansion for the van Zieks’ visitation released a chunk of it, including Barok comforting him periodically. By the time the next day came around, Kazuma made sure to dress in his Prosecutor’s outfit. He believed his introduction should be by his lord’s side to show where his loyalties lay. He never left Barok’s side, even after there was a first knock on the door. One of the maids welcomed the first van Zieks, who was a young woman with her husband.

“Barok, my darling brother! It is delightful to see you again!” the woman greeted with a short hug. She wore an elegant, turquoise dress with some navy blue waving at the bottom of her skirt and hugging around her sleeves. There was also white lace located around the collar and edge of the sleeves. Her hair was dark and short with some curls, which could be seen under her navy-blue hat with a white feather.

“Mr. Binkston, Abigail, it is a delight to see you again,” Barok greeted, Kazuma following his lead. Kazuma could see Abigail’s husband was slightly shorter than him with black frocks, top hat and dress pants, a navy blue waistcoat hidden underneath the frocks, a white ascot and brown boots. He wore short hair and sideburns that seemed to be a light coconut brown.

“Good day to the both of you,” Kazuma greeted, his nerves getting to him.

“Oh, hello there. What’s your name?” Mr. Binkston asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Kazuma Asogi. I’m my lord’s apprentice.”

“Oh, he’s your student?” Abigail asked, her expression shock-filled.

“He’s brilliant in his work and a delight to have in the Prosecutor’s Office. He’s currently residing in one of the empty houses at the estate, since there are not many desirable lodgings available, among other things,” Barok stated.

“Hm… I see. Quite the surprise. I didn’t think you’d ever take anyone. He must be quite brilliant for you to take him in,” Abigail replied, showing a delightful smile.

“Thank you. It’s quite an honor,” Kazuma replied with a polite smile of his own.

Of course, Kazuma could see that Abigail was more surprised that her older brother took in a student that was Japanese and related to the man that killed their brother. While making her way, her mouth turned from a smile to a somewhat nervous expression. Kazuma took in some deep breaths, reminding himself that the young lady had reason to be nervous and likely distrusted him. Even Susato was skeptical of Barok at first. If she had known the Prosecutor prosecuted his father, she likely would have been much more skeptical and nervous. Even so, Susato trusted Kazuma wholeheartedly. It was likely Abigail shared that same trust.

The two were quickly lit up when they met Iris, who offered them a special blend of tea and some biscuits. She had the entire table set up with small snacks and desserts they all loved. Kazuma decided not to mention having made half of the food. Thankfully, they were all English foods. It wasn’t like they’d know if it was from him, Iris or the servants. Kazuma chose to continue standing by his lord’s side, feeling much safer and more comfortable there.

More of the van Zieks family came. The first was Barok’s Mother and Uncle. They seemed delighted to see Barok. Barok’s Mother seemed to share his hair color, which was short and curly with some ribbons and a small hat that was a dark red. Her dress was also the same color red at the bottom of her skirt over layers of black and a dark brown at the top half of the dress with long sleeves that wrapped around her arms. Her eyes were a striking icy blue that almost matched Barok’s Uncle’s eyes.

“You seem to be doing quite well for yourself,” Barok’s Mother stated happily. “I can see that you don’t seem as grieved as before.”

“Yes. It’s a process, but I have done better for myself, you might say,” Barok said.

“Who is this Japanese man?” Barok’s Uncle asked, turning his attention to Kazuma. He was much older, judging by the white in his hair under the lightly brown short hair and mustache. He wore dark-blue frocks and dress pants in a lightly-blue waistcoat and white ascot. His boots were black.

“M-My name is Kazuma Asogi, I am Lord van Zieks’ apprentice,” Kazuma introduced, taking a bow.

“Asogi?” Barok’s Uncle asked, turning to Barok, his eyebrows were seemingly confused.

“That would be Genshin’s son. He’s brilliant. I’m hoping to train him, so he may do well in his home country,” Barok explained.

“Is that so? I believe you mentioned taking in a student. How long did you say you’ve had him? I thought you said he was amnesic,” Barok’s Mother said.

“He has since recovered about a year ago; three months after I took him in.”

“I see. My apologies, I wasn’t aware. Still, it seems a bit of a coincidence that he turned out to be Genshin’s son.”

“… not quite. It was under Lord Stronghart’s orders and he has since been arrested for having given the orders that led to the deaths by the hands of the Professor and the real Reaper,” Barok explained. It was clear he didn’t want to go into detail about the specifics, but it wouldn’t be hard to connect the dots as to why him being given Kazuma wasn’t a coincidence.

“I can only assume Lord Stronghart had intended on me meeting Barok under those circumstances. Thankfully, it wasn’t for the worst. I’d like to think everything has since worked out alright,” Kazuma said, showing a small smile towards his superior.

“That’s wonderful. All for the better, I suppose. Now, where is my granddaughter?” Barok’s Mother asked.

“I have a grandmother!?” Iris squealed in excitement.

Kazuma could already feel some skepticism from Barok’s Uncle’s eyes. He took a deep breath as a hand was felt upon his shoulder. Barok signaled Kazuma to join the group, assuring he’d follow. Kazuma nodded, then walked inside the living room where Iris was meeting and greeting everyone. All the snacks, drinks and desserts were on the table for everyone. Kazuma decided to treat himself to Iris’s tea. It was quite delicious.

“Mmm, I have never tasted this kind of sweet bread. It’s like cake but isn’t. Did you make this?” Abigail asked with a small piece of sweetbread with some lemon filling in her hand.

“Oh, that was Kazzy. He tends to cook randomly, depending on his mood. I think he went a bit overboard this time,” Iris replied, shrugging. “Worried poor Mickey too.”

“Erm… my apologies,” Kazuma replied, flushing.

“Mickey?” Barok’s Uncle asked.

“That’s my Dear Mikotoba, my good fellows. He’s also Dear Asogi’s guardian,” Herlock explained.

“Ah! Yes, your partner, right? I’ve heard of your adventures together,” Barok’s Uncle said, turning to Kazuma. “You were raised by him?”

“Since the age of 14, yes. My… mother passed away not too long after my father,” Kazuma replied. He looked over to the side. “I owe that man everything and he’s the reason for me being here.”

“How very kind of him. So, tell me, what brings you here to London?” Barok’s Mother asked.

“It was part of a World Tour I was assigned to at Yumei University where I lived. Originally, I was supposed to arrive here as a Defense Attorney, but… an accident occurred, which stripped me of my memories. In my attempts to find out who I was, I first ended up in Hong Kong, then I eventually worked my way to London illegally before ending up under Lord van Zieks. I owe him my life. He took me in when I had nothing, then helped me regain back my memories.”

“How awful. That must’ve been quite scary. To be in an unfamiliar country without memory,” Abigail said.

“Quite. Still, that was nice of you to help him through his crisis,” Mr. Binkston said.

“Thank you,” Barok replied.

Kazuma felt a little relieved since the van Zieks’ seemed kind. Of course, they would appear kind and polite to him, but it was relieving to hear them taking interest in him. Dr. Mikotoba was known to them, so they likely felt relieved to hear Kazuma was raised by a kind and respected man. He couldn’t predict how the rest of the week would go, but for now, this was good.

——

While the van Zieks family were no doubt very nice and polite to Kazuma, he could see there was too much distrust and skepticism about him. He couldn’t blame them. After all, he was the son of the man that killed Klint. It didn’t help that neither he or Barok ever mentioned their current relationship, which was beyond student and teacher. Usually, Barok never talked much about it to the public since it was considered a personal matter to him. Kazuma was often the one that mentioned it.

Iris enjoyed her newfound family, as expected. Kazuma would watch the young girl serve tea and show off the latest inventions she’d made. Kazuma sighed quietly, making his way to the training room where he distracted himself by training. He didn’t have Karuma with him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like his current sword any less. It had helped him survive and protect his Lord against those that made attempts on his life. Some good training was enough to break some sweat and get his adrenaline pumping.

After some training, he panted, hearing some talking and laughter from the family. They seemed to be talking and carrying on. Barok was with them and Kazuma couldn’t help but feel left out. He wanted to join them, but even as he left the training room and approached them, he could already feel the intensity building up. He sighed, making his way out of the manor, but not before hearing an obnoxious knocking that stirred up the family.

“Who in the world is that? That is most certainly not the sound of Sholmes,” Barok said.

“Yeah, Daddy’s a bit more of the knock-then-barge-in knocker,” Iris agreed before the maid answered the door. 

Behind the door was not someone Barok recognized at all. The man was Japanese, tall and a bit robust. His hair was black that reached down his back and pulled back in a ponytail with striking brown eyes. He wore a white suit and dress pants in a dark-blue waistcoat, matching boots and a three-layered jabot. A Japanese sword was worn around his belt. His eyes darted around the room, then right at Kazuma. 

“Raion-kun? How? I haven’t…! I thought you moved to Germany!” Kazuma stated.

“Is that a way to treat your brother-in-arms? I heard about you staying here and came across the channel just to see you,” the man, Raion, smirked, wielding out his sword, which clashed with Kazuma’s in one quick move. “To do battle with you!”

“This won’t end well, if you keep this up,” Kazuma smirked braggingly before the two sheathed their swords back into their belts.

“Who is this friend of yours?” Barok asked.

“Raion Karuma: proud student of Genshin Asogi and brother of Kazuma-kun,” Raion introduced himself, taking a bow, before turning to Kazuma. “Where’s Karuma?”

“I left it in Ryunosuke’s hands until my return. I trust him with my life,” Kazuma replied.

“Honestly? The soul of the Asogi Clan!? You left it with some nobody rather than with me!?” Raion complained, drawing his sword, and pointing it at Kazuma.

“No offense, but you were in Germany at the time and, as I said, I trust him with my life.”

“Then, I will have to see for myself. It looks like I’ll have to do battle with you another time,” Raion smirked, sheathing his sword again.

“Smashing, but honestly, how did you know I was here?”

“I knocked on your door and you wouldn’t answer, so I figured you’d be in your lord’s house instead. As for how I knew you were here, a bit of research and soul searching.”

“Uh-huh,” Kazuma replied knowingly.

“Eh-hem, about our guest…” Barok’s Mother said, feeling much more awkward and uncomfortable.

“He’s with Kazuma. He may do as he wishes with his friend. No sword fighting outside of the training ground,” Barok stated.

“Apologies, Lord van Zieks,” Raion replied politely.

“Would you like some tea?” Iris asked excitedly.

“Of course, Dear Lady.”

Kazuma led Raion to a seat, excitement filling him once more. Of course, he could feel the awkward tension from the other van Zieks’, but it didn’t feel as overwhelming now. Raion was introduced to everyone and enjoyed his tea.

“I’m very glad you’re here. I think Kazzy was feeling a bit left out. I thought he was going to bake more pudding,” Iris sighed.

“Oh, the humanity. I was hoping for some of that Hayashi Rice,” Raion said with a grin.

“They don’t have a lot of the same ingredients from back home. Though, I am lucky enough to cook a few things such as my favorite Beef Hot Pot,” Kazuma stated.

“What’s Hayashi Rice?” Iris asked.

“It’s a hash beef with rice. We also have Radish Soup and Tofu Nuggets,” Raion replied. 

“That sounds so delicious!”

While the three of them were talking about food, the other van Zieks’ kept to their conversations. It was very clear that neither of them wished to engage with Kazuma and Raion. Kazuma decided not to judge. After all, he and Raion were strangers to the family. At the same time, Kazuma knew deep inside that he and Raion were involved with Genshin Asogi, the one that killed Klint van Zieks. At the very least, Kazuma was thankful he wasn’t alone.

It was only a moment before Kazuma realized Barok was gone. He got up, saying, “I’m going to look for Barok.”

“I’ll come with you,” Raion replied, following Kazuma.

“I’ll stay and talk with my Aunty and Grandmum.”

The two men found Barok in the garden sitting on a bench by the fountain. Kazuma sat right next to Barok, who sighed.

“Forgive my sudden disappearance. The company was… overwhelming,” Barok replied.

“Are you alright?” Kazuma asked.

“A bit. Yes.”

“I can see if the little lady has any more of that tea. That is some good stuff that keeps the pressure down,” Raion said as he grinned kindly.

“Er… thank you. You’re… too kind,” Barok replied awkwardly.

“Are your folks always like this? This awkward I-don’t-want-you-around-no-offense kind of people?”

“What are you…?”

“It seems like neither of you are used to having strange people around. Not to mention, the tension is through the roof here. Not exactly the most comfortable environment.”

“….. I’m… sure you know… about Genshin Asogi and…”

“You mean who killed who and what? Look, I ain’t any happier about what happened and I’d have my sword to your neck if it weren’t for Kazuma-kun. I know he loves you. Not to mention… you have my sympathy. Kazuma-kun and myself have had some bad luck on our end after he received that letter.”

“What letter?” Barok asked.

“Erm… there was a letter from one of the victims of the Professor that cursed the Asogi name and-” Kazuma explained before Barok’s face completely twisted to shock and horror.

“You… You read that!?”

“…. What do you mean?” Kazuma asked, arms folded with a deadly glare.

“… I didn’t write it, but… my mother… did. She never told me whom she sent it to, but… Kazuma, who was that letter for?” Barok asked, fear lingering in his eyes.

“F-For the Head of the Asogi Clan, s-s-so naturally I… it never said a specific name or anything!”

“… that’s why there’s so much tension. I can only assume it’s a matter of the Lady not wanting to be caught for her dirty laundry. She probably wasn’t expecting the next heir to be 14, though I doubt she cared at the time,” Raion stated, showing signs of anger building up.

“This was a bad idea,” Barok muttered into his hands.

“… I should probably leave. I can’t deal with awkward tensions after hearing all of this,” Raion seethed, his arms crossed.

“I would not hold it against you. Please forgive me for your discomfort,” Barok said.

“I can’t say I forgive you for what you did to my lord, but for this… I won’t hold it against you. You’re at least honest.”

“I thank you for your kind words,” Barok replied with a small smile.

“Take good care of Kazuma-kun and I might forgive you. I can see he’s happier with you,” Raion replied with an honest smile.

“You’ve only been here for less than an hour.”

“And, that is more than enough.”

“Hmmm.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. I’ll be sure to be at my house this time,” Kazuma promised.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Raion smirked before turning around to leave.

Kazuma sighed, leaning his head against Barok’s shoulder, He muttered, “this is a disaster.”

“… I wish it was as simple as talking with them, but my mother isn’t the talking type. She hates conflict and will avoid it when she can,” Barok said sadly.

“How sad. I’m more of the confrontational kind of guy. More with swords than words.”

“Obviously. Forgive me for not engaging you with my family.”

“No. I doubt having me join or joining with me would’ve made things any better,” Kazuma sighed, taking Barok’s hand and lacing their fingers.

Barok and Kazuma looked up at the sky, only now taking notice that it was sunset. The clouds were already showing their color and the sky was beginning to darken. At that moment, Kazuma began imagining himself and Barok under the cherry blossoms, petals slowly falling onto their heads. Barok would likely find it strange, especially when Kazuma brushed the cherry blossoms from his hair. They were always beautiful during the springtime.

While thinking this, Kazuma felt something tucking behind his ear. He looked up, watching Barok place a small flower behind his ear. Kazuma felt his cheeks turn red.

“I… thought you would look nice with that…” Barok said awkwardly.

“Autumn Frost, hm? The flower for the Prosecution in my homeland?” Kazuma asked sweetly, leaning his cheek against Barok’s arm.

“You’re a brilliant Prosecutor, Kazuma and… it looks better on you than a sunflower.”

“Hehehe, is that so? Well, do you know what flower I think would look handsome on you?”

“What?”

“An English Rose. Red preferably.”

“Hm…” Barok hummed, a bit of pink dusting his cheeks.

“You know, despite how different you consider us Nipponese from your people, we have one thing in common.”

“Oh? And, what would that be?”

“Color. The colors of our flags are the same and so is the color of our national flowers.”

“… true,” Barok stated, after some thinking. “The two English Roses, red and white, become pink like cherry blossoms.”

“Indeed,” Kazuma replied softly, gently stroking his index finger, tracing something on Barok’s arm. Barok furrowed his eyebrows curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing your name… in my language.”

“I don’t have a-”

“Yes, you do. We pronounce it as Ba-ru-ku, Barokku Banjikusu, and we can spell it in Kanji.”

“Unbelievable!”

“You’ve made yourself well known, Mr. Reaper,” Kazuma teased.

“… what would you call me, in your own native speech?” Barok asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You call me ‘Lord,’ yet in your home country, you have your own honorifics. It’s no different with your Nipponese friends. Mr. Naruhodo’s assistant calls you 'Kazuma-sama’ and Raion calls you 'Kazuma-kun.’ I wish to know what honorifics I’d be given.”

“I thought you hated anything Nipponese,” Kazuma smirked.

“I have exceptions, in case you haven’t guessed.”

“Hm… you’d be… Barokku-kyou.”

“kyo?”

“Kyou. It’s an honorific we give to the Lords and Ladies of our land. All honorifics have a specific purpose to call them that. Judicial Assistant Susato calls me sama because I am considered head over her.”

“I see. What an honor. Might I hear that again, my name with your honorific?” Barok asked, gently lifting Kazuma’s chin.

“Barokku-kyou,” Kazuma whispered - only a moment - as their lips brushed against each other before small footsteps were heard.

Kazuma quickly separated himself from Barok before spotting Iris running to the garden with urgency on her face. She seemed completely shaken up. Herlock followed right after her, his facial expression was seemingly serious. Something told Kazuma that something happened. Concern was on his face at the same moment as Barok’s.

“What happened?” Kazuma asked.

“Kazzy, your friend, he…” Iris said, completely shaken.

“Raion-kun? Is he alright? What happened to him?”

“Your friend is fine, but… I’m afraid things turned sour the moment Lady van Zieks mentioned his leaving. Your friend has quite the temper,” Herlock stated with an expression that made it seem like he couldn’t decide whether or not to be concerned.

“Explain what happened. I want the full story,” Barok said bluntly, arms folded.

“W-Well, as Daddy said, Rayo was about to leave unexpectedly when Grandmum asked why he was leaving. He… said the atmosphere was a bit discomforting and thought to come back another time. After he closed the door, my great uncle said something about if it’s normal for the Japanese to leave as soon as they come. I… suppose Raion overheard that. He came right in, then completely lost it. I… I left quickly afterward,” Iris said, her eyes watering.

“I’m sorry about that. Raion-kun does have a temper. We discovered something that left him in a rage. He thought to leave to cool down,” Kazuma explained.

“No worries. I figured that was the case. It’s why I signaled to Iris to leave quickly,” Herlock assured. “Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

“I’ll see to it to control the situation,” Barok stated.

“Same. You both stay here. Thank you,” Kazuma thanked as he and Barok made their way inside the mansion.

What Barok and Kazuma found in the room was more people, everyone shaken up. It seemed that Raion had already left, but not without leaving damage in his wake. Kazuma stood by Barok’s side, deciding to be there to help out with whatever was needed.

“What happened?” Barok asked. “Iris came to us shaken.”

“S-Sorry, it’s… our guest was leaving and…” Abigail started.

“The man completely lost it! Yelling at my sister-in-law something about disgracing the Asogi name! I’ve never heard of the likes!” Barok’s Uncle mentioned with folded arms, obviously upset.

“Where is Raion-kun? I’ll see that I talk with him. I apologize for his behavior,” Kazuma asked.

“As should! I never want to see that savage in my midst.”

“I beg your pardon, but I suggest you hold your tongue.”

“Wha- how dar-”

“No, I’m afraid neither of you have any room to judge his behavior. Ever since your arrival, both of you have barely talked with me and often shunned me from any conversations. The only conversational people I’ve met, aside from Raion-kun, were Iris, Mr. Sholmes and my Lord. It doesn’t make things better to avoid your true feelings about me and instead bottle up any resentment. Really, I find it much crueler, especially since one of you in this room had sent me a letter disgracing the Asogi name, as Raion had stated earlier,” Kazuma said, glaring coldly at Barok’s Mother’s direction.

“What in blazes are you talking about!?” Barok’s Uncle asked, clearly confused.

“Mother…” Barok said, looking at his mother, who avoided his gaze with a slight glare. “My apprentice is a man that has crossed swords with me and has seen me at my worst. I’m sure he can handle anything you have to say to him. Personally, I’d rather you get it off your chest than keep it in.”

“Klint was a brilliant young man. He was the pride and joy of the van Zieks. Perhaps, I was cruel in writing that letter while you were in your youth; I was not aware the next heir was a boy. Even so, I can’t forgive anyone associated with the man that took my boy away. Klint… he spoke of his admiration for Genshin,” Barok’s Mother said, fists shaking and tears rolling down her cheeks, staining her eyeliner. “You don’t think I see the same going on between the two of you!?” The room went silent as Kazuma stood firm, hearing every word of grief coming from the elderly mother. “Give me one reason why I should believe you wouldn’t take away the only son I have left.”

“You’ve seen my father’s sword, haven’t you?” Kazuma asked.

“Klint told me about it. Karuma? Y… You don’t have it?”

“No, because I lent it to my most trusted friend. Like my father, I have a demon inside that almost got the better of me during the time I was searching for answers about my father. As a result, I betrayed and broke the trust of those that I loved. I intend on slaying that demon once and for all before retrieving back Karuma.

“I won’t say or prove I’d have done anything differently from what my father did. He made the decision to allow Klint to have his duel, but not by his own decision. That was Klint's choice. Had it been my father, he would have given him this,” Kazuma stated, retrieving a small dagger from inside the sleeve of his coat.

“Kazuma, what is that?” Barok asked, his face completely awestruck.

“In my country, when any of us have committed a crime that brings us dishonor, we are required to perform an action called seppuku. It means to cut one’s stomach with a dagger. It is an action us samurais do as an honorable and merciful act to cleanse us of our sins to the gods,” Kazuma explained as the family’s expressions turned to pure horror. “I carry this with me because I intend on serving my Lord until the bitter end, regardless of our relationship.” He returned his dagger inside his sleeve. “My father allowed Klint to decide how he wanted to die, even as dishonorable as it was to him. He did that because he truly cared for your son. Had it been me, yes, I would have done the same. I would allow my lord to decide how he wishes to regain back his honor, even if I found it to be in the most dishonorable fashion.”

The room was quiet, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Barok couldn’t find it in himself to say anything. It seemed that, even after that blasted trial, there was still more he had yet to learn about Kazuma. Barok’s Mother turned her face away, then got up.

“I’m going to look for my granddaughter. Please excuse me,” Barok’s Mother said, treading toward the garden.

“You should get back home too. I’ll come join you tonight,” Barok promised.

“Of course, my lord,” Kazuma replied quietly, taking a bow, before leaving on his way back to his house.

———

Kazuma knew today had been a disaster. Though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t see it coming. With all the tension in the air, things were going to get out of hand sooner or later. He only wished he hadn’t lost his temper. Unfortunately, Kazuma was just as much of a hothead as his lord. Perhaps, he should have left the moment things turned sour. Now, he felt guilty for the way he acted.

Hearing the door open, Kazuma already knew who it was. He just continued to cook the rice, even as arms snaked themselves around his waist. He placed the lid on top of the pan.

“I’m not angry at you, you know,” Barok said.

“… I apologize for my behavior,” Kazuma muttered.

“Don’t. You were right. Mother should not have bottled her true feelings and caused you grief. I had a talk with her about it and… our relationship.”

“I suppose she doesn’t give her blessing?”

“It doesn’t really matter if she does or not. She didn’t like Lady Baskerville either. She’s a very critical woman and she has a strong distaste for the Nipponese.”

“As expected from my lord’s mother,” Kazuma replied with a slight smirk upon his lips.

“Hm…” Barok hummed, planting small kisses on Kazuma’s neck. Kazuma moaned as those kisses trailed up to his ear before he turned his head, so those kisses would be planted upon his lips.

Kazuma could get lost in Barok’s kisses. They were sweet, yet firm with a touch of tenderness to them. The taste of Barok’s mouth was so sweet on Kazuma’s tongue. It left Kazuma wanting more, moaning for more. He looked at the rice that was still cooking, trying to separate himself, but the kisses continued with Barok’s insistence. He could only get out muffled words that moaned into Barok’s mouth.

“My mthmmmmm~ My lorphmmmmm~” Kazuma moaned in the kiss. Was Barok intentionally keeping Kazuma busy away from the rice?

Barok slowly parted after a while, whispering, “allow me to spoil you tonight. I shall finish the rice and make you a bath.”

“A bath? Whatever for?” Kazuma asked, smiling lovingly as he slowly began running his fingers down Barok’s arms.

“I was hoping to accompany you.”

“Hm… sounds lovely. I thought you don’t associate with Onsen.”

“Only when it’s with a friend. A lover is completely different,” Barok whispered onto Kazuma’s lips.

“I see,” Kazuma whispered as Barok kissed him lovingly on his lips. “Surprised you’re in this kind of mood after tonight.”

“Hm… perhaps it’s me wishing for you to no longer remained stressed or grieved,” Barok said, taking Kazuma’s face into his hands, then kissing his lips quite fiercely. Kazuma made a helpless moaning into the kiss, squeezing Barok’s arms as if wanting to be closer.

“You’re making me more stressed by leaving the rice unsupervised,” Kazuma stated with his eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re impossible,” Barok sighed, moving to the rice to check on it. As a reward for checking it, he received a kiss on his cheek.

“If I am the sun that rises and you’re the sun that never sets, would that mean our sun shines brighter than any star in the sky?” Kazuma asked, laying his head on Barok’s shoulder.

“Hm… perhaps. Personally, I prefer just saying the words, 'I love you.'”

“Hm… doesn’t sound as nice and sweet.”

“Then, how about this?” Barok asked, turning, kissing along Kazuma’s jaw, then whispering in his ear with such a low seductive voice. “I love you.”

“Hmmmmm~” Kazuma moaned, his eyes fluttering closed. “Don’t ever set tonight, my sun.”

“I’ll warm your bath very soon.”

“Please do~”

Barok led Kazuma to his couch, laying a kiss on his head before heading back to look after the rice. Kazuma chuckled, watching as his lover finished his rice before heading to the tub to run the bathwater. He looked at the time, seeing it was already 10:00 at night. He swallowed while hearing the water pouring into the bathtub. Was Barok truly in the mood to be doing that tonight? Kazuma was certain that he’d be upset after tonight. Though he did seem insistent with the kisses, Kazuma took that as his lover trying to comfort him.

Once the water stopped running, Kazuma watched Barok appear in the living room, picking him up into his arms and kissing him senselessly. Kazuma found himself wrapping his legs around Barok’s waist, combing his fingers through Barok’s hair, while the kiss deepened. Oh yes, Barok was most definitely in a good mood today.

“What’s with the mood? I-I was certain that… tonight… I-” Kazuma asked before being cut off by the lips and teeth grazing his throat. “Ooooooh~”

“I did say I was not angry at you? What you did made me veryhappy.”

“I-I-I-I di- ahhhhhhh~ mph,” Kazuma tried asking before feeling those teeth and that tongue graze up his neck, feeling his earlobe being abused by tongue, mouth and tongue.

“You said that you would allow me to regain my honor in whatever fashion I choose, whilst you intend on doing the same with the trust that I would allow you that liberty,” Barok stated, then grazed his tongue around the shell of Kazuma’s ear before finishing his sentence with a, “despite its rather darkimplications.”

“Mmmmmmmmm~” Kazuma moaned throughout the licking. That tongue, those teeth. He wanted more. He wanted Barok. “My lord.”

“Call me by the honorific you’d call me from your nation’s tongue.”

“Barokku-kyou, could you…?”

“Shall I spoil you today?”

“P-P-Please~” Kazuma pleaded, hearing Barok’s pleased chuckle.

Barok took Kazuma to the bathtub. Kazuma could most definitely count this as the best night of his life. To be spoiled by his lord like this. What a privilege! One thing was certain, he was most definitely not going to be sleeping alone tonight or waking up alone the next morning.

After an ambush, Barok van Zieks and his amnestic apprentice make their way to a nearby hospital to treat their wounds. What they find is possibly a better treatment for the apprentice’s amnesia and lingering feelings that begin to bloom between the two of them.

Perhaps it was luck or grace from God, but Barok managed to fend off and escape from the ambush that awaited him with the assistance of his new apprentice. Scotland Yard did a marvelous job in arresting the men responsible for the ambush made upon the two gentlemen. Unfortunately, it didn’t come without injuries. Thankfully, there was a hospital nearby willing to provide any needed aid.

Sitting on the hospital bed, Barok allowed the doctors to patch up himself and his young student. It didn’t seem as if their injuries were too severe. There was just one tiny problem.

“Excuse me, but would you mind removing your cloak? We need to take a look at your shoulder and legs,” a doctor asked the young apprentice, who then turned his head directly at Barok.

This could be a problem. It was under Lord Stronghart’s orders that the young man not remove his mask and cloak or speak outside the Prosecutor’s Office. However, his injuries needed to be tended to. Perhaps, there could be some arrangements?

“Please forgive me, but would it be alright to leave one doctor here, if my student is required to remove his mask and cloak?” Barok asked as the doctor looked at him curiously. “Lord Stronghart’s orders.”

“W-Well… if it’s Lord Stronghart, I suppose it wouldn’t be a problem. I’ll tend to the man’s injuries and tell no one what I see or hear,” the doctor promised as Barok looked towards the other doctors, who nodded, then left the room.

Having only one doctor there to tend to the young man’s injuries, the student took a deep breath, removing his cloak and mask. The doctor looked at the young man curiously, gently removing the top part of his jacket to inspect the cut along his shoulder.

“Oh my. From just your body tone alone, it seems as though you’ve been in fights like these. I’ve heard of stories of warriors in Japan. Are you perhaps one, young man?” The doctor asked as the apprentice glanced at Barok, who gave a nod. Would it matter if one doctor heard his voice since he promised to not speak a word of what he’s seeing or hearing?

“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything before a year or so ago,” the apprentice replied.

“It seems that he has lost his memories. Unfortunately, Lord Stronghart hasn’t revealed any more details and he doesn’t seem to know the cause,” Barok filled in.

“By God, young man. Have you consulted a doctor about this?” The doctor asked, seemingly concerned.

“N-No. When I was in Hong Kong, I didn’t have anything: no money, home, name or anything. No one there knew me,” the young apprentice replied.

“How terrible! Where were you when you woke up and realized you were without memory?”

“On a ship to Hong Kong, though I doubt that’s where I was from. I woke up holding a bouquet of posies. I can only assume I was presumed dead. All I know is that a voice inside me told me to come here. I thought maybe I had family or someone I knew here, but…”

This was the first time Barok had heard of this. He knew this man lost his memories, but to hear that he was presumed dead and left without anyone familiar to him that would guide him? He couldn’t imagine anyone living their life so lost. It’s a scary thought and not something he’d wish on anyone, not even his most hated enemy.

“Were you aware of this, Lord van Zieks?” The doctor asked.

“Somewhat. I knew the man had no memory, name or anything else, but the clothes on his back. He did, however, prove to be knowledgeable in British Law and sword fighting. I agreed to accommodate him under Lord Stronghart’s orders,” Barok replied.

“That is awfully kind of you, considering your hatred towards… well, his kind,” the doctor said awkwardly as the apprentice’s eyes widened slightly.

“Hate? My kind?”

“He has no memories of his people and I would be damned if I proved myself to be worse than those I loathe. I’d rather prove myself better than my enemies,” Barok stated clearly. He turned his eyes to his apprentice. “At the very least, I intend on giving a man with no memories or name a goal to pursue in hopes that he can make a new life if his memories cease to return.”

“I see,” the doctor said, fixing up the last of the apprentice’s wounds. “He’s all fixed. However, considering his amnesia, I do have a few questions.” He turned to the apprentice. “Young man, have you experienced any headaches?”

“Y-Yes, a bit.”

“How painful would you say it is from 1 to 10?”

“Erm… I suppose 9 or 10.”

“When do you usually experience these headaches and how does it feel? Throbbing?”

“It happens once in a while and… throbbing would be the correct term.”

“Have you experienced vomiting due to these pains?”

“No. Not that I know of. Are they part of my memory loss?”

“I’m afraid so. It’s common for headaches to occur in the amnesic victim if it was caused by head trauma. That’s likely what caused your memory loss.”

“Would you be able to treat him?” Barok asked.

“Yes. I may also recommend the right medication for his headaches. Were you aware of this?”

“Admittedly, yes. The first time wasn’t less than a day after taking him in. He was crying in pain and I proceeded to remove his mask. I provided him with medication for it and allowed him to rest in my office until the pain was gone.”

“I see. I’m grateful for your provision, however, I recommend visits to provide different ways of helping him regain his memories. If you’d like, I can pay the young man daily visits to check up on him. I’d also recommend he keep a journal if he hasn’t.”

“I keep a journal and write about my daily life. If it is alright, I would like the help,” the young man replied.

“I will see to it that it’s arranged. It would be a delight to help him retrieve his memories,” Barok agreed.

“Excellent,” the doctor said excitedly, turning to the young apprentice. “If there is something that feels familiar to you in any way, be sure to inform me during my visitations.”

“I’d also like to be informed to be sure you’re cared for properly,” Barok added.

“Yes, my lord,” the young man replied, then bowed to the doctor. “I will. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

The young apprentice placed his mask and cloak back on before leaving the room. He and Barok made their way to the carriage that would return them to the van Zieks estate. As expected, the ride was quiet. However, what Barok didn’t expect was a whisper from his young ward.

“Thank you,” the young man said.

“Hm?” Barok questioned.

“For taking me in, even though you loathe my kind. I don’t know what happened to make you feel this way, but I feel grateful for your kindness. I feel the least deserving of this.”

Barok felt taken aback by this but smiled anyway. It seemed that there was yet another exception to the Nipponese he hated so much. Yet, for some reason, he didn’t feel this man should be seen as such. He certainly followed the same mannerisms, accent and lifestyle as the Nipponese, yet he felt there was more he could relate to with this man than any other. From the moment Barok crossed swords with his young apprentice to test his skills, he already felt kin to him. When Barok spoke of his grievances, he could feel from the way those eyes looked at him as if he could relate.

Turning to his young student again, he could feel those eyes looking up at him with the sincerestadmiration. Barok was certainly a man with a good number of admirers, yet this one felt the most genuine. He didn’t admire Barok for the way he prosecuted or for being the Reaper, but for the simple kind action of caring for him. Even with Barok’s obvious hatred for this man’s people, that didn’t change this man’s admiration of him. Barok would assume most Nipponese would turn away from him in disgust at the thought of being hated in this way. It seemed two of them proved otherwise.

“My feelings for your people are not to be based on anything logical. It is something personal that has never truly been healed. I should not be holding any of these feelings against you. They have nothing to do with you. I hope you know this. I fear I may not be the last or worst you will meet with these feelings of loathing. Some would believe you to be savage and uncivilized, because of how behind your country is in advancements.”

“My lord,” the young apprentice replied,almost whispering.

“I mean it. Don’t allow mine or anyone else’s feelings about your people to match your character. You’re better than that.”

The young man nodded slightly, fingers lightly touching his own. It was as if there was some sort of magnet existing between the two men. The sound of horses clomping against the ground was heard in the background with the carriage continually moving across the road. There was barely light from the street lights outside, dimly shining on half of their faces as they slowly drew closer, lips almost touching until the carriage stopped.

The moment the carriage stopped, Barok took notice of what was about to take place. Were they just about to…? and a Nipponese no less! It seemed as though the young man had just realized this at the same time, his nerves skyrocketing, as evidenced by the number of beaded sweat on his face and neck. The man’s neck was smooth and curved so perfectly. It was perfect for Barok’s hand to hold, trace each curve with the tips of his fingers up to around the outer shell of his ear, a thumb lightly tracing the inner shell down to the soft, smooth earlobe. Perhaps, his fingers could then lightly trace the smooth jaw, that same thumb smoothly trace those soft, thin lips. What sensation would that make this young man feel?

The coachman was heard climbing off the coachbox. No, now was not the time to be thinking of such shameful fantasies. Clearing his throat, Barok turned his head from his apprentice quickly, hoping the darkness would hide the redness that appeared upon his cheeks. From another glance, it was hard to see, but he could swear there was some redness on his student’s face as well. Did he also have similar fantasies?

The carriage door opened with the coachman allowing both men to walk out of the carriage and into the manor of the van Zieks estate. After giving the coachman his thanks, Barok couldn’t shake the thought out of his head that. For that single moment, he and his pupil had almost… It was hard to deny these feelings and he didn’t know how to process them. The man was amnesic for goodness sakes! For all he knew, this man could have a lover that is missing him. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts to begin with!

Thankfully, his student made his way to his room to get ready for bed. With the incident that had almost taken place literally 15 minutes ago, the thought never left Barok’s head as he watched the man make his way to his room. Did he want…?

“Ngh!” The young apprentice cried suddenly, one hand on his head and the other trying to support himself using the wall.

Immediately, concern took hold of Barok as he made his way to his disciple’s side, aiding him to stand, and remove his cloak and mask. The young man panted, showing signs of immense pain that were strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. He held onto Barok as if he was the man’s only lifeline.

“It… hurts!” The apprentice cried before Barok nodded, helping him to his bed, then laying him down. Sweat was pouring from the young man’s face, along with the tears leaking from his eyes from the pain.

Barok made his way to the medicine inside one of the cabinets behind a glass door. He retrieved the medicine, then got a rag, wetting it before making his way back to his student. The young man had already taken off his white suit, leaving only a white buttoned shirt, before pushing it to the side of the bed. Barok had gently laid the damp wet rag across the young man’s forehead before gently lifting the upper half of his body to offer the medicine for his migraine. The medicine tasted awful, making the young disciple gag after swallowing it.

After laying the young man down, head on his lap, Barok stared at his face, which was covered in sweat from the intense pain from his throbbing head. He was panting, eyes barely opened as they looked up in Barok’s direction, whose fingers were gently massaging the young man’s scalp. How many times had Barok found himself caring for his student like this for every moment his head would be in pain?

“Why do you care for me?” The young man asked.

“You’re my student. You’re my responsibility,” Barok said quietly.

“But, you hate my kind? Do I not seem displeasing in your eyes?”

“… no. Quite the contrary. My opinion of your people does not reflect my opinion of you.”

“Wh-What’s your opinion of me?”

“You’re obedient, smart, brilliant with your swordsmanship and…” Barok said quietly, gently running his fingers with his free hand around the shell of the young man’s ear, down his neck, then using his thumb to grace his jawline. “quite beautiful.”

“… beautiful?”

“Very,” Barok said fondly, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I have always found the Nipponese to be the most beautiful people I’ve ever laid eyes upon. Their mannerisms, how they always prefer the ground or the most humbling places, the shape of their eyes…” He gently traces his young apprentice’s eyes, which fluttered shut. “the feel of their hair and how it’s always manageable… their gifted ability to produce sweat without the odor that follows.”

The young student snorted, opening his eyes, asking, “jealous?”

“I see your headache has ceased.”

“A bit. You know… you and your people are very beautiful too. I… wish for us to be closer,” the young man admitted, placing his hand over Barok’s that caressed his face.

Barok didn’t know how to respond to this, so he simply smiled. He found himself memorized by his young apprentice. It was as if the two men were mesmerized by the other. Barok’s memory of what had almost happened inside the carriage came back. How long had he thought about it? It was at that moment that Barok began realizing it may have been a while longer than he cared to admit.

“Shall I allow you to sleep?” Barok asked as his student reluctantly nodded.

Barok carefully placed his apprentice’s head from his lap and onto the pillows. Caressing the young man’s face once more, whilst staring directly at his lips, Barok began contemplating if he should… No, he’s the young man’s mentor. He shouldn’t do something that his student could never say “no” to, even if he truly wanted it.

“Goodni-” Barok whispered before his student pulled him down, arms wrapped around his neck, as their lips softly pressed against each other. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, the young man’s lips soft as a feather and warm as the heat from a fireplace. His fingers gently combed through the young man’s hair as their lips lingered, basking in the warmth and comfort of their affections.

After a moment, they parted soundlessly. Eyes fluttered open in awe before the young apprentice smiled warmly, whispering, “goodnight.”

Swallowing, Barok nodded, too astounded to say anything as he slowly left the young man to sleep happily in peace. He left the bedroom, closing the door behind him, before closing his eyes to feel the lingering touch upon his lips. Perhaps, he should care for his student more often.

It is the day before the second day of the trial of Barok van Zieks. Yet, Kazuma is grieving. Not just for his father, but for the man he came to love and trust that he now must Prosecute as a murderer. What could be worse, losing your mentor through death or betrayal?

It had been a long day, a long trial. Kazuma was super focused on his mission to take down the Reaper once and for all, to avenge his father. This time, he wouldn’t allow anything to get in the way. Not Ryunosuke and not his personal feelings.

Kazuma would be lying if he said he didn’t have the slightest bit of hope that he was wrong. However, the evidence was there, especially from the confrontation with the victim before his murder. There’s no way it could’ve been anyone else. True, it’s possible that Lord van Zieks didn’t kill Gregson, especially if Ryunosuke was right about the murder taking place the day before. However, that man still needed to answer for the forgery on the Autopsy Report of Klint van Zieks.

A drop of liquid hit the corner of the paperwork Kazuma was currently writing on. Thankfully, it didn’t smudge the ink. He looked up at the ceiling. Surely, there was no leak and it wasn’t raining outside. It was then that he felt something on his cheeks… tears. Carefully, Kazuma placed his quill inside its holder before cleaning off his fingers from the ink. He needed to calm down before continuing his work. Hopefully, no one would be visiting him today. He’d already had Ryunosuke pay him a visit and he was certain Lord Stronghart wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with him at the moment.

Taking deep breaths, Kazuma began the process of ridding his emotions and griefs from himself. He could begin his grieving at a later time. Right now wasn’t the time. He was to prosecute Barok van Zieks. Whatever they had before shouldn’t cloud his mind. Yet, more tears began pouring from his eyes. He’d always had someone to go to before. Even when he was without memories, he had his mentor… his lord.

“‘EY!” Kazuma gasped at the screeching of that familiar voice from another grieving student. One that had been insistent on taking on this case from day 1. She burst through the door of the office. Thankfully, Kazuma’s desk was faced away from the door, so the Inspector couldn’t see the shameful tears on his face. “They ‘ave the nerve to say I can’ for the life of me see wot’s wot in the boss’ handbook! I wos the one who found it!”

Kazuma cleared his throat, putting his hand to the lower part of his face to make it seem like he was covering his mouth while using his fingers to dry his tears. He turned his head, ensuring his face was deadpan to not show the grief he felt moments ago.

“Inspector Lestrade, rest assured, you’ll have your chance to speak for your boss. He is the victim, after all.”

“You bet right he is!” Gina stated proudly. Kazuma took another deep breath, trying to calm his emotions.

“In the meantime, I need you to continue the investigation. I need to focus on my duties.”

“… yeah, I get it. You got your prosecutin’ yer doin,” Gina replied, this time in a much gentler tone. She squeezed the strap of the bag she carried with her. “Er… ye can try talkin’ to me if ya need someone to talk to… get it off yer chest. I won’t blab aboot it.”

Kazuma almost sighed. So, Gina took notice of his grief. Was it really so obvious that anyone from the slums could notice it? Then again, she’d always proved herself to be brighter than she came across and it wasn’t as if Kazuma had anyone else. Ryunosuke was his opponent and his mentor was the defendant that he couldn’t be sure if he could trust or not. It was far too conflicting for him to open upto either of them. They’d either tell him he was wrong or else he’d end up saying something he’d regret later on.

Nodding, Kazuma got up, then closed the door to the office. It was quiet, aside from the bats and the wind outside. It was hard to know where to start. He bit his lip, closing his eyes.

“It’s hard for ye too, isn’t it? Perhaps it ain’t the same, but… you lost yer boss too… and he could be…” Gina said, trying not to step on any toes before Kazuma finished.

“The Reaper,” Kazuma finished with his voice now deep and hoarse.

“Yes.”

“How does it make you feel… knowing that your boss… was responsible for the deaths of so many? The evidence is right there. You can’t deny it.”

“… I don’t know, but… I want to believe in the boss. He took me out of the slums and…”

“He gave you a better life when you had none.”

“Yes!” Gina wept, tears rolling down her eyes as Kazuma turned, showing his own tears. Both of them were in deep grief. They held each other tightly. “You loved him too, didn’t ye? Yer boss, I mean.”

“Immensely,” Kazuma admitted, hisvoice so broken. “I had no memory, no name to me. I was broken… homeless… nothing. He took me in, saw my potential, saw me as a person, gave me something to pursue. If I’m right, if… if he’s the Reaper… if he sent my father to the gallows… I can’t forgive him, but I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

“I could see it. You asked 'Oddo to defend your boss, because you want to be wrong. If there’s anyone that can prove you wrong, it’s 'im,” Gina said, crying on Kazuma’s shoulder. “I can’t stand the thought of the boss… He saved me. I-If he wos workin’ for the Reaper to kill all those coves, then I… I was Prosecuted by the Reaper god damnit!”

“Y-You were?” Kazuma asked as Gina nodded helplessly.

“Th-That’s why… I can’t believe he’d… then I’d have to believe he only took me in to… f-f-finish the job. There’s… no other way,” Gina sobbed, her body shaking.

All the grief Kazuma carried before felt somehow lighter. It wasn’t just him. Gina was suffering too. To add insult to injury, Tobias Gregson was dead, so she couldn’t question him. Kazuma could at least put his boss on trial and question him. Gina couldn’t be given that chance. Had the victim been Lord van Zieks, that mourning badge would be on Kazuma’s arm as well. He loved Barok van Zieks, even if he was responsible for sending his father to the gallows.

“Gina, what if Gregson was alive?” Kazuma asked gently.

“A-Alive?”

“What if… hypothetically, it was Tobias Gregson on trial for a murder committed by the Reaper and he was under suspicion for being the Reaper with all the evidence pointing to him? What would you do?”

“Wot would I be doin’? I’d be grillin’ him, that’s wot!” Gina stated, separating herself and showing fire in her eyes. “I’d be marchin’ in that cell of his and askin’ him wot’s wot! Give him a piece of my mind, I would!”

“But, you said you love him, that you believe in him.”

“Yes, but someone has to. It ain’t like he can defend himself, now that he’s gone,” Gina said, her face glancing away. “If no one, it has to be me. Would ye do the same, if yer boss was dead?”

“… yeah, I would and, if I were still a Defense Attorney, I’d be damned if I didn’t represent that man. He’s done so much for me not to,” Kazuma said, glancing out the window. “But, you’re right. I should be questioning the bloody hell out of him. I’m a Prosecutor now! It’s my job to question the defendant’s guilt if there’s evidence against him.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Eh, don’t mention it. Lord knows we both need someone to cry to.”

“Indeed,” Kazuma agreed. His smile then became a frown. “Before I go, there’s something I need to confess and I’ll give you the liberty to grill me for it.” He took his sword Karuma from his belt, knowing what the tip of it would prove.

“Wot!? You….!” Gina gasped, her surprise slowly boiling to anger before raising her hand against his cheek.

********

Kazuma felt a sense of bittersweetness talking with Gina. She may not have seemed like an experienced detective, but she always came through. He’d have to remember to have her around more often. There was that grilling Gina did to him for what he did during his last encounter with Gregson, but not something undeserved. It would definitely take some time for any forgiveness to follow, but Kazuma needed someone to ensure that he didn’t hide anything else. After all, Lord Stronghart was going to be the Judge for the upcoming trial.

In the meantime, Kazuma needed to confront the man that was the source of his pain. Unlike Gina, his mentor was still alive and didn’t need someone to defend his honor. That was something Kazuma could not take for granted. No matter what Lord van Zieks had done, he could never hate the man. He loved and respected his lord just as much as Gina did Tobias Gregson. The difference between them was that Tobias Gregson was dead. He had no one to defend him, but Gina Lestrade. At the very least, Kazuma’s lord was alive with a lawyer willing to defend his honor. He didn’t need to carry this burden of never knowing.

Inside the dark, cold, lowly cell of the prison, Kazuma could see his mentor reading over a book. Even in prison, his demeanor was as calm as ever. It made Kazuma wonder what he’d think of his lord, had that accident on the ship never occurred. What if he’d never lost his memories that day? What if he’d continued on the World Tour? There was the assassination he was expected to follow, but how would he see this man he respected so much? Would he still hold the same respect? Would he think of him as an enemy? Would Kazuma truly hate him?

A part of Kazuma wished he could hate this man, but the thought of it hurt. This man saved his life. He was an illegal entry, no doubt the aristocrat knew he was from Japan, considering what inspired the design of the tailored suit he wore. Despite all of his hatred for his people, this aristocrat still took him in, treated him kindly, trained him in prosecution and gave him a place to lodge without anything in return. The idea that Kazuma had to prosecute this man made him sick to his stomach.

********

Barok had been sitting in this lowly cell for perhaps a day or two, though it felt like forever. He would often distract himself by reading. It would either be reading letters from old friends or else any books his colleagues were kind enough to provide him. The food provided here was much to be desired, but thankfully his Nipponese lawyer was kind enough to provide him meals. Had he done this with all of his clients? Just that thought alone made him feel at ease. Most lawyers he knew never thought about small things like these.

According to Ryunosuke, he once was arrested for the murder of an Englishman in his own country, who was a well-known professor at his university, then tried by the Supreme Court of Justice. The prisons there were much harsher and he was treated unkindly. Unfortunately, food was never provided, unless it was from family or friends. He said that the one that brought him any food was Kazuma Asogi, who had originally intended on taking up his defense.

Kazuma… the same man who had been under his tutelage for these past few months, brought to him by Lord Stronghart while he was an amnesiac. He was Nipponese; Barok had taken notice of this based on this man’s mannerisms and habits. Everything from the way he sat on the floor of the office, choosing to sleep on the floor on a mat, the way he fought with a sword andthe way he cooked. All of these were bleeding of Nipponese that Barok was all too familiar with. Yet, he took pity on the man, who was lost with no memory, home or anywhere to go. No matter how much he hated the Nipponese, he couldn’t allow this man to suffer when he held so much potential, proven by how inept he was in the English language and in British Law.

How ironic was it that this man would turn out to be the son of the man that killed his brother ten years ago and perhaps countlesslives? Yet, despite this, Barok couldn’t find it in himself to hate him.  This man was his bright young student, always willing to learn, a good listener, very respectful and… surprisingly kind. Even with the ban on his speech, he never ceased to help out Barok and others in any way he could. He’d clean up the office without being asked to, finish any paperwork Barok was too tired to finish, cook their meals without being asked and would listen to all of Barok’s ramblings. Barok knew deep inside that he had grown soft for the man and, even now, could not stop admiring his work, regardless if it was as a Prosecutor in his own trial.

There were most certainly issues Kazuma needed to work on, but his overall conduct was brilliant.He had so many grievances and hurt from this trial and everything involving the Reaper, yet never strayed away from the truth. As a former Defense Lawyer, he was able to predict Ryunosuke’s moves, which made it difficult for the Nipponese Lawyer. Yet, it was clear these two worked together very well. It almost made Barok envy how well these two Nipponese lawyers worked together. Usually, Ryunosuke would look like a deer in headlights during his every trial against Barok, but he seemed much more confident against Kazuma.

In truth, Barok didn’t know what he expected from the man he knew was the son of the mass murderer. He kept him around for this past week, even after knowing his identity. It was clear Kazuma held so much grief and hatred against him, so why did Barok keep him? Why allow this man to continue to enter into his household, sleep in the guestroom as usual, eat the food provided, come to the office during the same time as usual or be given the pleasure of seeing him every moment of the day? Barok knew why. No matter what grievance this man had, what hatred he may’ve held, Barok couldn’t allow this man to suffer more than he already had. He didn’t have the heart to throw this man away no matter what tensions arose between the two.

Footsteps were heard making their way to his cell. Barok expected that it likely was either Ryunosuke or a colleague of his providing more books or food. What he didn’t expect was the man prosecuting his case. Not to say Prosecutors weren’t allowed to pay a visit to the defendant, but usually they were related to questioning. As far as Barok could recall, there wasn’t anything else he could say, apart from what he had already testified in court this morning. He continued reading.

There was an awkward silence before Kazuma spoke, “I’ll stay here all day if you need me to.” Even now, he was speaking to Barok as if he was still the apprentice.

“I was hoping you’d leave,” Barok replied without emotion, saving his spot, then closing the book. He stood up, approaching the bars. “What do you want?”

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Kazuma began, taking a deep breath. It was clear he was calming himself from the whirlpool of emotions filling his chest. “You say that the Professor was caught and executed, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then, afterward, the Reaper shows himself, including his killing spree.”

“… that’s the long and short of it.”

“So, what makes you think the Professor is truly gone?”

Barok was completely lost, asking, “pardon?” Where was Kazuma going with this?

“Think of it this way: you have two killers hellbent on punishing those that abuse the system to get away with crimes. Both do it for the sake of justice and seem to work in the same manner. If there are any differences, it’s the mascot presumably doing the killings and the category of people they target. Anything else is the same: motivations, types of people they kill, the blueprints of how it’s done, right down to the idea that the killings couldn’t be done alone unless it was organized somehow.”

Barok found himself blinking, both impressed and horrified. Kazuma was truly as ingenious as his father. It was true that Genshin had once mentioned the Professor likely working with others or in a group, but it was only now that the idea was brought back. Now, that he began thinking, was it possible that those that were working with the Professor were now working for the Reaper? Even so…

“That proves nothing. Only that those working for the Professor just simply switched bosses.”

“Or perhaps the boss never left,” Kazuma said, keeping his ground. He placed his forefingers to his forehead. “Make no mistake, I’m certain someone working for the Professor died, perhaps the Tactician like Tobias Gregson, though it was not my father and the tactician of the Professor was most certainly not the one in charge. He just simply changed his tacticians and targets to keep himself hidden.”

“… why are you telling me this?”

“If you are the Reaper, then this should be common knowledge to you, is it not?”

“If interrogation is what you were going for, I’d think Scotland Yard had done better,” Barok said, tempted to shake his head.

“Yet, the same trial of the Professor has started once more. If you are not the Reaper, why didn’t you stop the man impersonating you or your brother’s ghost!?”

“You…” Barok glared warningly.

“You did NOTHING! You just stood there and allowed that name to soil you in the blood of those you crucified in court!”

“Don’t…”

“Then, after five years, you up and QUIT! With all the ridicule, all those that ambushed you, you never once defended your honor, the honor you carry with the name van Zieks! I am here fighting for my father’s honor, while you sit there not fighting for yours or your brother’s!”

“Don’t you dare involve Klint in this, Asogi!”

“But, if you were the Reaper, then you have already soiled your honor with the blood of its victims. Some consider it the ghost of your brother.”

“I KNOW THAT! Do you believe I haven’t defended my brother’s honor for that!”

“Then, why haven’t you defended yourself until now?”

Barok had no answer to that, other than it did lower the crime rate. That’s what Lord Stronghart had told him anyways and he was right. He turned his eyes away from Kazuma shamefully.

“No answer? So, you will allow your name to be dragged through the mud? You won’t even put in the smallest amount of effort to defend yourself!?” Kazuma shouted, banging his fists on the iron bars, which made a horrid loud sound. He closed his eyes. “Now, I know why you refused Ryunosuke’s service at first, you selfish coward.”

“I thought you wanted to drag me through the mud. Isn’t that why you’re prosecuting me?”

“I’m prosecuting you, so I can know if you truly are the Reaper! If any other Prosecutor were to take your case, you’d either be labeled innocent or guilty without question. I’ve been having to ignore all of Lord Stronghart’s orders to keep this trial going, because unlike the Prosecution’s Office and all of Scotland Yard, Gina and I care about the TRUTH! If my lord is the Reaper, I want to know the truth, the full truth! If I have to drag you through the mud and back to find it, I will.”

It was then that Barok began to notice tears pouring from Kazuma’s cheeks. It was hurting him, the both of them. Kazuma sniffed, finally saying, “I love you. I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’ve perhaps been betrayed in one of the worst ways, but I love you. It’s been my duty to serve and honor you. I…” His hands gripped the bars, trembling.

Even with his voice back, Barok could see that expression, the way Kazuma postured himself. He couldn’t ignore this. His student always looked like this when he was scared, helpless. Through the iron bars, he gently wrapped his arms around Kazuma, who buried his face in Barok’s chest. Taking his glove off, Barok gently combed through Kazuma’s chopped hair. It felt smooth and silky. He wondered what Kazuma would look like, if he grew his hair a little longer, perhaps braided or tied it. He could certainly pull it off.

Is it ironic that Barok, the man who hated all Nipponese, found himself fond of and loving one of them, who also happened to be the son of the man that killed his brother? What a cruel irony. Perhaps it was fate.

“I love you too. Your horrid image of me doesn’t change that,” Barok replied to Kazuma in a quiet, fond voice.

“In what way?” Kazuma asked in a muffled hoarse voice before looking up towards Barok, his face having been buried in his chest.

“This,” Barok replied fondly, gently caressing Kazuma’s face. Kazuma exhaled, his face leaning toward that callused hand. He felt a lot of things, but for this moment, he didn’t mind.

“If you’re not the Reaper, then prove it,” Kazuma said. “Defend yourself in court. Gina already lost her boss. I can’t bear losing you.”

“Kazuma…” Barok muttered, feeling his heart shatter to pieces. He laid a kiss on Kazuma’s head lightly. “I promise.”

Perhaps this broke some sort of conflict of interest, but Kazuma shared a light kiss with Barok on his lips. It was short and brief, but it conveyed the emotions needed. Even in the darkest of moments with inflicted wounds, Kazuma and Barok found the smallest bit of hope and happiness shared between the two of them. No matter what either of them had done, they could always find that small bit of love blossoming between the two of them. It was that small bit of happiness that made Barok and Kazuma believe that things were going to be all right in the end.

After five years of prosecuting, Barok van Zieks is about to retire. He can no longer bear the burden of so many deaths under his name. Just then, a mysterious enigma appears, exposing the organization responsible for the Reaper Killings. Barok will get to the bottom of this and find the answers behind this masked man, even if it means turning to Herlock Sholmes for help.

Since taking the job as Prosecutor, Barok had spent endless nights in his office at home. He had once believed, since solving the Professor Case, that the Professor Killings were gone for good. Though, it seemed he was wrong.

It did seem strange that many of the defendants that Barok had prosecuted, those that were declared Not Guilty through unlawful means, were mysteriously being killed one by one. It was disturbing, to say the least. But then, just as Barok was contemplating retiring from prosecution, not willing to bear the burden of so many deaths that seemed to be under his name - now the title Reaper of the Old Bailey, a mysterious enigma appeared in the midst. This enigma was often seen in Barok’s presence, stopping the deaths that seemed to be from the hands of the Reaper. The organization responsible for the Reaper Killings was now revealed, thanks to this enigma - who forced this organization out of the shadows.

This enigma was a mysterious man in a cloak and white mask, trained in combat and sword-fighting that Barok recognized as being of Japanese origin. He couldn’t shake the notion that this enigma was somehow connected to the Professor, Genshin Asogi. He couldn’t ignore those skills in swordsmanship and combat. At one point, Barok even witnessed the sword. It was the same sword he recalled Genshin wearing on his belt, the one he called Karuma. It was from that moment that Barok was certain that the Professor was not dead, not completely at least.

One fact that Barok was certain of was that this enigma was likely the son of Genshin Asogi. He remembered the former detective speaking about his son. At the time of his execution, the young lad would’ve been 14 years old. It had been five years since the Professor’s execution, meaning the lad was now 19. He likely had boarded a ship and traveled to London at some point. The problem with this theory was that every search of the crew members of every ship ported to Great Britain had never listed anyone under the name Asogi. He could only conclude that the lad had illegally stowed away in one of the ships. Thus, he decided to search for records of anyone with the name Asogi and when they disappeared. Thankfully, he found a name, Kazuma Asogi, who was a student at Yumei University before mysteriously disappearing about a month and a half before the mysterious enigma appeared.

Unfortunately, Barok was without evidence to prove this or why the young lad would go so far as to illegally travel to Great Britain, dawn on a disguise, then proceed to save the defendants that got away from Guilty verdicts through unlawful means. This action was beyond Barok’s imagination as to why this young man would do this. Of all the things, he’d expect someone close to Genshin Asogi, the Professor, to finish what he started or at least eliminate Barok for leading Genshin to the gallows. This enigma, however, did just the opposite and even did the one thing Barok would never expect from the son of Genshin Asogi to do in a million years, save him.

It felt like only yesterday, Barok was making his way to Scotland Yard to meet with Tobias Gregson about a case he was working on. He just so happened to come across one of the men that was proven Not Guilty in a recent case. This man just so happened to have friends with him, pursuing to take down the Reaper of the Old Bailey before he made it to the courtroom. Barok, of course, drew his sword to defend himself, but the number of his attackers overwhelmed him. He proceeded to retreat and run, but his assailants weren’t so merciful as to allow him to escape this easily, even proceeding to call him a coward. Eventually, Barok found himself cornered, wounded, unable to get up. That was when heappeared.

Barok was so wounded from his assailants’ attack that he could barely get up, but he watched as the masked man proceeded to fight mercilessly against the assailants. While their numbers were overwhelming for him, just as much as they were for Barok, he was still able to hold them off until Scotland Yard arrived to arrest the men. They were about to go after the mysterious enigma too until he jumped into the Thames River and escaped.

To this day, Barok still couldn’t understand this mysterious enigma. Why did he save him that night? It was as difficult to answer as to when Genshin Asogi also saved him the night of his arrest. The Professor still cursed Barok to no end. Even after death, Asogi’s spirit somehow lived within that boy, who proceeded to stop the Reaper Killings by any means necessary. There was one difference, however… the mysterious masked man never took a life.

A week had passed since the night Barok was saved by this mysterious man. He had done everything he could to find out more about this man. While he was certain of his identity, he couldn’t coordinate where he was lodging or his motivation for saving him that night. It was clear he was stopping the Reaper Killings, but why didn’t he consider Barok an enemy then? As such, Barok did the one thing he never thought he’d have to do – he sought help from the man he had once blacklisted from asking for any help, Herlock Sholmes.

Hearing the knock on the door to his office, Barok said, “come in.”

The door burst open as the detective proceeded to announce, “Mr. Reaper, I presume? Might I ask what has led you to be in search of myhelp?”

“…. haven’t you already figured it out, knowing you?”

“Ah yes, so it is about your mysterious friend?”

“I’d hardly call him a friend. More like an annoyance and a headache.”

“That’s too bad, really. He seems to be a very useful ally for you.”

“What makes you believe that? He’s a wanted criminal making havoc in all of London!”

“Yet, according to Scotland Yard, he seems to be doing more help for them than they care to admit. He’s preventing the Reaper Killings from taking place in ways they cannot. Doesn’t that strike you odd, my good fellow?”

“… perhaps. I’ve had my… suspicions, admittedly,” Barok admitted. Herlock seemed to make a very good point. What truly made this enigma a menace? If anything, he’s been stopping these Reaper Killings that had been mysteriously happening since the execution of the Professor. Yet, he was treated as a criminal, not a hero. “So, Detective, how much do you know about him?”

“Him? I’m assuming you know his identity?”

“… Kazuma Asogi.”

Herlock Sholmes looked at Barok with a knowing smile on his face. So, he was aware of the identity of this enigma. Of course he was! He was friends with that other Japanese student, who was friends with Genshin Asogi, right? Yujin Mikotoba, was it? If anyone, Herlock Sholmes would know more about Kazuma’s disappearance and location than anyone in London.

“So, you knew. Perhaps, you may even know where the lad is lodging?” Barok asked.

“Perhaps. Mr. Asogi is very careful, expertly so. I have to say, I’m highly impressed. I didn’t even know he had appeared in London until his first appearance.”

“I thought you were close friends with those Nipponese exchange students! Certainly, you must have close contact with them and the son of the Professor- ugh!” Barok shouted, before facepalming and shaking his head. “Forgive my impatience.”

“Yes, well, they don’t know where he went off to, after his disappearance. He completely closed himself off from them, after running away from there. I can only assume he has friends here, London citizens or citizen, that are lodging him at the moment. Whether or not they know of his escapades or that he’s lodging with them at all is a mystery. I truly doubt they do, though.”

“Have you looked?”

“Of course I have! The first place I searched was the East End of London. Perhaps, he figured he could blend in with the homeless to attract attention away from Scotland Yard?”

“But, he wasn’t here?”

“Not that I know of. Then, I proceeded to search in the markets and workplaces that would offer to house their employees. Perhaps he is lodging in one of the most convenient places?”

“Doubt it, since not many would be willing to hire a Nipponese to work unless they were desperate.”

“That’s what I thought too, but never say never as I always say. Anything is possible. Unfortunately, none of them have ever seen a Japanese man of that age ask for work. Mr. Asogi must have known I’d search in that direction. I also thought to search around seaports, but I got the same result.”

“In other words, he’s nowhere to be seen in London. I thought you were a detective.”

“Ah, I never said he wasn’t seen in London. He most definitely was. I’m just simply narrowing down my results.”

“And, where have those results led you? As far as I know, I’m at a loss.”

“Don’t think too hard on this one. Mr. Asogi is nowhere in the poorest part of London, he’s not in the markets, and he’s not found around the middle class.”

“Obviously.”

“Yet, he’s able to obtain the needs every human being must have for survival: food, clothing and shelter. Think of the times he’s fought his battles. Certainly, he must have had his share of injuries, yet they are miraculously healed or patched at the very least.”

Barok began thinking. The obnoxious detective, once again, made a good point. This enigma was able to gain food, shelter and clothing. While they certainly were not fancy, they were simple enough to have been obtained from somewhere. With all the injuries he’s taken, certainly his clothing would show wear and tear after a while, yet they seemed to be just as usable as they were the moment the enigma was first introduced. He had to have obtained these somewhere. That was why the detective was searching around the market streets.

“I doubt it’d be the East End, then. It is filled with the poor parts of London that are unable to provide the mysterious man with the needs you described. At most, maybe a shelter, but the food and clothing would not be as desirable. Not to mention I have noticed the wear and tear miraculously do not exist when he returns. No one from the East End would provide another cloak for him.”

“Very true. Meaning, he must be sheltered by someone with the means of protecting him, even from Scotland Yard and yours truly. That narrows it down to one place… perhaps person. Said person would likely have missing clothes and food that he’d not be able to keep track of if it were to go missing,” Herlock Sholmes declared, pointing his finger to the corner of his forehead before turning to the Prosecutor. “Tell me, Mr. Reaper, do you have any clothes that you consider unusable, perhaps food that is so abundant that you cannot possibly keep track of?”

“What’s that supposed to-” Barok asked before understanding the significance. The idea made his blood turn as ice-cold as his glare. He placed his hand almost over his face with his fingers spread apart. “You cannot possibly be saying…”

“Yes, it’s likely that Mr. Asogi is residing at your abode, possibly in the shadows among your servants and maids.”

“IMPOSSIBLE! I don’t have any maids with m-”

“In that case, it would be much easier for Mr. Asogi to hide in such a large house with only one person living inside. You could be awake and not even know there is a stranger living amongst you.”

“P-Preposterous! I have set my home in the exact order I expect it and nothing has changed, not even the food in my pantries!”

“And, how much corn do you have? Potatoes? Carrots? How much meat is in storage? They say, if you have a large quantity, it would hardly matter if one person took a few carrots, potatoes and meat. Mr. Asogi would just simply cook his food, while you were asleep, eat after the cooking is done, then save up the leftovers for his masked man missions. Those would likely be the only times the Reaper Killings would not happen and when he would have the time to get some needed sleep.”

Barok began thinking deeply. The more he heard, the more Herlock Sholmes began making sense. Was it possible that Kazuma Asogi had been living in his household this whole time without his knowledge? But, if so, then…

“… why?”

“Mr. Reaper, I think you know the answer just as much as I do. Think back to all your encounters with him.”

Again, Barok began thinking deeply. Yes, it did make sense for the enigma to be inside his household, being he was the Reaper of the Old Bailey and likely the most suspicious culprit responsible for these killings. He was also the one responsible for sending Genshin Asogi to the gallows. Where better to target the man responsible for his father’s execution than his own household? But then… why did he save him that day?

“I think the rest of your answers can only be given by the mystery man himself, my good fellow. And with that, I bid you adieu,” Herlock Sholmes finished, taking a bow before making his way out the door.

“Mr. Sholmes,” Barok called as Herlock turned. “If it turns out you are right, expect full payment by the morrow.”

“As expected. I’ll be sure to give dear Mikotoba the good news. He’s been beyond sick with worry, since Mr. Asogi’s disappearance,” Herlock said, tipping his hat down to cover his eyes. He then looked up at Barok with a more serious expression. “Please, look after him. Despite his skills, he is still a young man that lost his father at a very young age. Unfortunately, I cannot convince him to trust me.”

Barok took some time to think. It was clear Herlock did care about the young man. He had no doubt his Nipponese friend had been worried for Kazuma Asogi. Barok would never stop hating the Nipponese, but he could at least sympathize with them. He knew what it was like to lose a dear member of his family he looked up to so highly. He had no doubt that Genshin Asogi was Kazuma’s Klint van Zieks.

“I will do my best, but I make no promises,” Barok said.

“Thank you. Something tells me you may have more success than you believe,” Herlock replied before leaving the office.

Barok continued his work. Luckily, there was no trial or investigation he had to do today. He began thinking over Herlock Sholmes’s deductions. Had Kazuma Asogi truly been living in his household all this time? He was certain he kept track of his food and clothing, but then again, perhaps one person didn’t need to take that much to make it noticeable. Even so, how would he be able to find Kazuma Asogi in his own household, especially if he was hiding in the shadows?

One thing that stood out to Barok was when Herlock mentioned Kazuma likely sneaking in food for himself while Barok was asleep. In that case, Barok would have to go to bed, perhaps allow some time to pass, then search his household to see if anyone was inside his home. Then, he would know for sure if anyone was there. He also considered if this Kazuma Asogi would react in violence or try to escape from his grasp. He had to formulate a plan to find and prevent this mystery man from escaping. This was the only sure way of knowing if Herlock Sholmes’s deductions were correct, which was likely possible.

That night, when Barok returned home from work, he performed his normal routine of arranging his living space, then preparing himself for bed. From there, as soon as he laid down on his bed, he proceeded to wait for some time to pass. Unlike all the other times he slept, he kept his ears open for any subtle sounds he often ignored at any other point in time. For this moment, it all seemed quiet. Aside from the natural noises or creaks from outside, nothing seemed obscure. This young man may have learned useful stealth techniques that even he wouldn’t be able to pick up. Then again, perhaps he just needed some time to pass.

After about 30 minutes or more, there were still no sounds Barok could hear, so he decided to check his entire household. Quietly, making as little noise as possible, he lit a candle to use as a source of light for his search. He made sure he wore decent sleepwear and socks to be able to stealthily look around. He also kept his ears open to listen for the most subtle of sounds. He considered that, if Kazuma was inside his home, then he’d likely keep his ears open at all times just in case Barok couldn’t sleep that night. He’d be lying to say he never had a sleepless night.

Avoiding any flooring that would make creaking sounds, Barok quietly walked down the hall from his room and towards the kitchen, where Herlock Sholmes predicted the young man was. So far, all the lights were out and there were no subtle sounds he could hear. Then, as he began making his way to the kitchen, he heard something. It was the sound of a pan or kettle being placed on a stove. Someone was in the kitchen.

Barok knew if he was to go inside the kitchen the normal way, the stranger would likely notice him. As such, Barok took the secret passage he was familiar with that was made for security measures for if he had to escape or hide from trespassers. He entered one of the hall closets, then opened a secret door located behind the line of cleaning towels. From there, he made his way toward the kitchen area. As he got closer, something began catching his eyes: lit gas lamps along the secret passage ahead. Did this enigma know about the secret passages too!? Was this where he’d be sleeping!?

The image of this mysterious enigma living in the secret passages of his home to avoid Barok’s presence was enough to make Barok’s blood boil. It was no wonder this mysterious man was able to come and go whenever he pleased. He could run around in this part of the mansion without Barok’s knowledge of it. He wouldn’t make any noises, even if he were running, eating or anything of the sort. The only time he’d be outside of these passages was when Barok was asleep and likely would only be using the kitchen. If Barok came during one of his sleepless nights, this enigma would just have to turn off the stove and hide inside the secret passage. Of course, there was the risk of Barok noticing something was amiss inside the kitchen if he was to ever look and find some food cooking or the mess left from it.

Barok began making his way to the kitchen area where a small eye hole was made for him to peek through. Inside, he could see a man with an apron, a buttoned shirt that looked slightly too big for him and regular pants that were also too big. Herlock Sholmes was right on the mark. This man was using his clothes. They looked to be average, perhaps found in the storage somewhere, explaining why Barok didn’t notice any clothes disappearing. Barok blew out his candle, waiting outside the door to the secret passage located inside the kitchen, behind the dumbwaiter. Of course, it was made for someone of Barok’s size to fit in naturally, but not strong enough to carry him to the second floor.

Thinking it over, annoyance filling his head about the fact someone had been living in the secret passages of his home for all of this time, he began thinking of why this man would save him. It was clear why he’d go through the trouble of living here in the shadows. But then, why didn’t he use any of the opportunities to take him out? If anything, it was almost as if these actions of malice could just as much have been to protect him. But then… why would this man want to protect him?

The small door to the secret passage opened. Out came the mysterious man, whom Barok could now see clearly. He turned around to get the food he left outside of the dumbwaiter, then froze in place as soon as he saw Barok. It was at this moment that he began noticing the man’s full features. His dark brown eyes matched his father’s, his hair was choppily cut and his build matched perfectly with the mysterious enigma that had saved him. He was truly a well-dignified man of his caliber.

“I have to commend you for successfully living in my abode without my knowledge. It seems Mr. Sholmes was right,” Barok said as the man’s hand made its way towards the sword Barok recognized. “Don’t. I’m not here to hurt you and, if you try to draw your sword, I won’t hesitate to stop you. I want answers.”

“Will you wait for a moment?” The man spoke, eyes narrowed as Barok’s eyebrows rose in surprise, waiting. The man reached for his sword once more, but not in the way he had originally thought. He twisted a small knob on the hilt of the sword. The knob came off and, with it was a rolled-up parchment paper written in red ink.

“What is that?” Barok asked, eyes fixated on the document.

“The reason why I’m here,” the man stated, handing the parchment to Barok. “My name is Kazuma Asogi.”

“I know,” Barok replied, surprised by how softly the man spoke. He had expected this man to see him as a threat, but he didn’t. Barok took the parchment and unrolled it, then began to read. The title made his eyes widen, his face break out in sweat and his blood turn to ice. It… It couldn’t be… The Will and Testament of Klint van Zieks? He glared at Kazuma. “You had my brother’s Will!?”

“Read it. All of it!”

Barok glared at the man before proceeding to read the will in its entirety. It wasn’t just a will, but a confession, a confession of the identity of the Professor, the killings, the hound that took its prey, everything, even the one responsible for placing the orders. He also read the last part his brother wrote to him, apologizing for everything. Kazuma knew. How long? Why?

“Where did you get this?” Barok asked, his voice choked.

“My father sent his sword to me as a part of his will. I was messing with Karuma one day, then notice its head could twist off. I thought I broke it at first. That was when I saw the will. I traveled over here to find answers and to stop the one who sent my father to the gallows,” Kazuma stated, his eyes filled with fire. Then, his face turned away. “However, it turns out he is much more dangerous than I anticipated. At the moment, he is the Lord Chief Justice, practically untouchable. I knew, if I was to defeat him, I’d have to do so in the shadows. Unfortunately, much like what he did with your brother, he is using you to continue his killing spree. I’m only doing what I can to stop him. He already has his minions under his cane doing his bidding.”

“… Lord Stronghart. You believe he’s responsible for the Reaper Killings?”

“Iknow he is! It says there in the will that he blackmailed your brother into doing his dirty work. He’s doing the same to Scotland Yard! Why do you think I’ve been labeled as a wanted man?”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous this is!?”

“What else can I do!? This is the only weapon my father has to bring justice and I can’t allow any more innocent people to die by that scoundrel’s hands!”

“I’d hardly call them innocent, but that aside, why didn’t you say anything to me before? Why wait until I caught you red-handed inside my own home!?”

“Had I approached you any other time, you’d likely have fought with me. I… wanted to be sure you knew I was a friend. My identity and origins don’t provide me much to be in your good graces. That’s why I appeared as the vigilante that’s being talked about in all of London. I… I figured you’d set your sights on me after some time.”

Barok couldn’t help but admire this young man’s dedication to keeping the truth safe from the man that would destroy it. It was also clear he was, indeed, trying to protect Barok while stopping the Reaper Killings. However, the idea of this young man going out to stop Mael Stronghart, who was currently the Lord Chief Justice, from killing any more people was dangerous.

“It will only be a matter of time before Lord Stronghart finds out who has been wreaking havoc in preventing his killing spree. Do you think your father would be happy to know his son is recklessly putting his life in danger?”

“Don’t you bring my father into this! This is my choice! If I die trying to prevent any more murders, then that’s exactly what I’ll die on my sword for!” Kazuma shouted with a voice full of threats.

“For how long? Lord Stronghart will not stop and you know this.”

“I… I know,” Kazuma said, his voice now in defeat, turning his face away.

Barok gently took the young man’s face, turning it to face him, as he gently spoke, “we’ll think of something, a plan to expose him so that he will no longer be able to take any more lives. However, I need your word that you will stop putting yourself in danger like this.”

“You-” Kazuma replied, showing a slight glare of disapproval before Barok continued.

“Furthermore, if you know the ones that have been assassinating the defendants of my trials, that knowledge will be enough for me to deter them from another Reaper Killing, so you will no longer have to interfere.”

“…”

Kazuma stared at Barok with widened eyes that were now filled with hope. He exhaled as Barok now began to take notice.  His fingers were still on the man’s chin, releasing them. Admittedly, the young man was very handsome with a well-built figure. He was also Genshin’s son, someone the former detective treasured. Barok had lived these years believing that man had betrayed him. It made it hard for him to accept that any of Genshin’s actions were out of genuine care, but now it seemed different. Barok felt disgusted that he hadn’t trusted Genshin enough to believe in his innocence. Now, because of him, Genshin’s most beloved treasure was putting his life on the line daily for his sake.

Kazuma bowed his head, now showing the genuine fear and helplessness he likely had been keeping to himself for all these years. He pleaded hoarsely, “please help me and I shall do what you ask of me, my lord.”

“Of course,” Barok replied calmly, signaling Kazuma to follow him.

Kazuma followed Barok out of the secret passage and into one of the guest rooms. For the first time in a long time, Kazuma finally had a comfortable place to rest his head. Barok kept his brother’s will on his person, intending to send this to Her Majesty. If anyone could dethrone Mael Stronghart, it was the Queen Herself. In the meantime, Barok vowed to Genshin in his head that he would ensure Kazuma’s safety. He was young… so very young. No man should have to suffer or hold the burden of protecting lives from a criminal organization.

Kazuma glanced back at Barok, saying, “Tobias Gregson… he’s the tactician of the Reaper Killings. He’ll be planning his next killing tomorrow night.”

“Thank you,” Barok replied, allowing the young man to sleep, while he made his way out the door. He intended on paying that Scotland Yard detective a small visit, then schedule a meeting with the Queen. Just a little more time.

I hate this game

more doodles of the reaper and his apprentice (ft. leg slam practices) because i can’t get enough of their awkward dynamic

I want to know how Barok like communicated that he wanted his wine bottles to be opened in this specific way. These two are so dramatic

nicandragon:

Return of the Great Departed Soul

shino-dgs:

cafe costume

demon-snqw:

It’s him…Herlock Sholmes. Official now

ALT

ALT

partners…

What can I say, I’m absolutely smitten by these two. I finished dgs2 and I have a lot of post-canon ideas that I may doodle out someday. For now please accept my offering of heart-shaped hachimaki and Lautrec-inspired But There Was Only One Bed

tiny bitch moment

Kazuma fails a kickflip and dies

Kazuma has an announcement to make

They are                     boyfriends

♡ If you use these as icons reblog and link to my account in your bio please! ♡

layz-chipz-blog:

I’m digging up all of the dgs related things I’ve ever made.

These were for a 7 day winter drawing challenge that I really wanted to participate in but couldn’t find the time to make actual art so these were born.

In this world, all I know how to do is direct my transification beam at ace attorney characters. The first two are based on Sherlock Hound screenshots which I will include in the read more along with the image descriptions !!! It was exceptionally fun to draw furniture (said no one ever) and I’m quite proud :0))

[Image 1 Description: A digital drawing of Yujin Mikotoba and Herlock Sholmes based on a Sherlock Hound screenshot. They are drawn in their sitting room. Herlock is sitting on a red settee, slouched forward. He has an opened letter in his left hand and two sheets of paper. In his right hand is a small brown pipe which he is smoking from. His light purple shirt is unbuttoned, and draped to the sides, revealing his boobs. He is looking at the letter with a slight smile. To his left, Yujin is leaning down to look at the letter. His left hand is on the back of the couch and his right hand rested behind his back. Similarly to Herlock, his white shirt is unbuttoned revealing his transmasculine chest. He has an anticipatory expression on his face. In front of the settee, in the foreground, is a chest. On top of the chest is an off white colored cloth with notes, a teacup, and a bar of soap. In the background is a lit fireplace. There is a stack of reddish brown books in front of it and stacks of multi-colored books on top. The walls are light red and Victorian patterned. Decorating the wall (from left to right) is an opened letter (hung up by a knife), two small notes, two bullet holes, and four framed sepia photographs between two wall sconces. End Description] 

[Image 2 Description: A digital drawing of Yujin Mikotoba and Herlock Sholmes based on a Sherlock Hound screenshot. They are drawn in their sitting room. On the right, Yujin is sitting in a green armchair, his left arm is laying on its rest, and a warm orange colored blanket is draped over him from the chest down. He is sleeping with a peaceful expression and his white shirt is unbuttoned to show part of his chest. To his left is Herlock sleeping on a red settee. Herlock is slumped over, his right arm draped loosely over the side of the couch. He has a blue blanket over his middle and his legs stretched out over the chest between them, his left leg folded over his right. His light purple shirt and purple bow are undone and partially revealing his chest. Both of them are trans masculine. In the background is a lit fireplace. On top of the fireplace, starting from the left, is a stack of multi colored books, an unlit candlestick, a mirror, and two framed photographs. Above this is a single piece of paper and two bullet holes. To the left of the fireplace, hanging on the wall, are four sepia photographs with a cluster of miscellaneous notes, red string connecting them and a wall sconce. To the right of the fireplace is a wall sconce, a shelf, a note, and a desk ¾ out of view with a stack of paper, a notebook, and a pen resting on its top. End Description] 

[Image 3 Description: A digital drawing of Herlock Sholmes, Yujin Mikotoba, and Iris Wilson. In the left half of the page is Herlock Sholmes in his pink robe. He is drawn younger and with a disgruntled sleeping expression on his face. To his left is young Yujin Mikotoba. He is wearing a blue robe and has his right arm draped across Herlock’s left side and his leg pulled up. He is sleeping peacefully. To Herlock’s right is baby Iris Wilson. He has one hand supporting her back as she lays across his shoulder and in the crook of his neck. She has her legs curled and pressed against his chin. She is pinching Herlock’s cheek with her right hand and pulling his hair with her left as she sleeps. In her mouth is a pacifier. At their feet is a warm orange blanket with white stripes and beneath their heads are two white pillows. The background is their sheets. In the remaining half of the canvas is Herlock Sholmes. He is slouched over, his left hand gesturing in the air, and his right hand splayed against a chalk board in the background. On the chalkboard, simple stick figures are drawn with horizontal lines beneath them. Above the chalkboard are speech bubbles with no actual dialogue to show that Herlock is talking. In the foreground are the black silhouettes of Yujin and baby Iris. None of this is colored. To the left of this scene is a small drawing of Yujin and baby Iris from the front with the dialogue: “Sholmes, forgive me, but… what.” End description]

thinking endlessly about herlock making clothes for baby iris and then inevitably teaching her how to sew and then missing when he got to dress her up in cute outfits (all of her outfits are entirely inspired by cherished teddies because I will have them all one day. i will)

[Image description: A digital drawing of Iris Wilson and Herlock Sholmes. In the top left is a waist up drawing of young Herlock in his out of coat attire, his left hand resting on toddler Iris’ middle and his right hand holding her elbow. Iris is dressed in a yellow raincoat, light blue shorts, and a sea foam hat. Embroidered on her coat is periwinkle colored simple flowers and her pink mouse mascot on the pocket. Additionally, Herlock’s bunny mascot is embroidered on her hat. She is smiling with her eyes closed and holding her right hand up in a stagnant wave. Herlock is smiling as well. The background is made to look like the inside of their home in 221B, a black and white family picture, a shelf with books, and dried flowers on the wall. Around this scene is a white border meant to imitate a photograph. On the upper right is toddler Iris wearing a pale pink winter coat, hat, and boots with light purple gloves, pants and a purple striped white scarf. She is holding her hands close to her chest and looking at the snow in awe. On her coat is embroidered purple flowers and her hat resembles her mouse mascot. The background is a blue sky and a snowy ground and around it is a white border. Below this, toddler Iris wears a baby blue coat and hat with a light yellow brim. Underneath the coat is puffy white shorts. She is also wearing bright yellow rain boots and is holding out a baby blue umbrella with her left hand. Iris has a closed eye smile. The background is a stormy blue sky with yellow light coming through. It is raining and on the dark ground there is three small puddles. Around this scene is a white border. In the bottom left is Herlock in his out of coat attire and his goggles on. He is looking down, focused, and sewing Iris’ baby blue coat, a needle in his mouth. Above him is a piece of letter paper that reads: ‘Dear Mikotoba, I have taken up sewing in the pursuit of constructing clothes for young Iris. If my endeavors prove fruitful, I shall hope to send you photographs of such evidence. As always, I miss you dearly and hope you and Susato are in good health. I shall write again soon, Your legendary partner.’ In typewriter font. End description]

[Image 1 description: A digital drawing of Susato Mikotoba, Herlock Sholmes, Iris Wilson, Yujin Mikotoba, and Ryunosuke Naruhodo. Starting from the very left is Susato Mikotoba shown from the waist up smiling and looking at the camera, a hairpin of her bunny mascot clipped in her hair. Beside and in front of Susato is Herlock Sholmes, his left arm is reaching back over his shoulder to hold Yujin Mikotoba’s hand. In Herlock’s hair is a hairpin of Iris Wilson’s mouse mascot. Behind Herlock and to his right is Yujin Mikotoba. He has his left hand resting on Herlock’s and his right arm reached around to rest on Iris Wilson’s shoulder. In Yujin’s hair is a hairpin of a grey bunny mascot made to resemble him. In front of Yujin, Iris Wilson is sitting with Wagahai in her lap looking up at her with a smile. In Iris’ hair is a hairpin of Herlock’s bunny mascot. All the way on the right end, behind everyone, Ryunosuke Naruhodo stands with the index finger of his right hand pointed up. In his hair is a hairpin of his mouse mascot. There is a white border around the image to resemble a photograph. In the top left corner is white text that reads: ‘The Legendary Family.’ In the bottom right corner is a signature that reads: ‘Zed Bear.’ End description]

[Image 2 description: A digital drawing of Kazuma Asogi. Kazuma is looking over his shoulder with a slight smile on his face and a hairpin of his masked cat mascot in his hair. To the right of Kazuma is Barok Van Zieks. Van Zieks is looking off to the right with a slight frown, a hairpin of his cat mascot in his hair. Between Kazuma and Van Zieks is a small Gina Lestrade. Gina is teary eyed and snot nosed, holding up a hairpin of her hedgehog mascot with the dialogue: ‘I love it, ‘s ‘mazin’.’ End description]

[The text from top to bottom:

Mikotoba: “Why don’t you let me read to you? I’ll make some tea too… would that help?”

Sholmes: “Mmm…”

Mikotoba: “You seem a little too pleased about this, Sholmes.”

Sholmes: “How could I not? You take such excellent care of me.” ]

Some Granada Holmes inspired Homumiko :,0)