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London seemed colder that day, at the border of the Thames. The small body rested on the ground, pale and lifeless, his clothes still wet. Gina observed the boy with a rigid expression, but Kazuma could notice the slight trembling of her lips. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and she didn’t try to move it away.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
The answer was obvious, of course: Gina had lived most of her life as a street child, just like that one they had found a few hours before. There were no signs of violence, so the conclusion was suicide: not unreasonable, considering the kind of life that child probably lived.
“This is bullshit,” Gina muttered.
Kazuma didn’t know how to respond. She raised her eyes, and, alongside the pain, there was a furious glint in them.
“You need to listen,” she said. “Something’s wrong here.”
“What do you mean?”
Gina glanced around, then reached for his collar, pulling him closer. “I can’t trust anyone here, Kaz…” she whispered. “They’ll just say I’m exaggerating. But…” She glanced at the child, quickly averting her gaze again. “This is the second one in just a few months… They keep saying it’s suicide, but… You don’t know how strong these kids are! They wouldn’t…”
Her voice failed for a moment.
“Gina…”
Gina shook her head. “This is too weird, but they keep acting like it’s nothing!” She inhaled sharply. “They don’t care because they’re from the streets, just like me!”
Her loud voice made some officers look in their direction, but a glare from Kazuma and a growl from Toby were enough to make them go back to their duties. Kazuma looked at Gina again: suicide or not, that had really gotten to her.
“I’ll talk to Lord van Zieks…” he said in a gentle voice. “See what we can do.”
Gina nodded. “Right.”
The sound of voices caught their attention. Not too far, a few kids looked their way, while an officer kept them from getting closer. Judging by their clothes, they lived on the streets as well. Kazuma’s heart sank, and he looked at Gina, whose flustered cheeks and teary eyes betrayed her true feelings.
“I’ll… talk to them,” she said. “No one’s gonna explain what happened to them if I don’t.”
“Alright.”
He wished he could say something else, but before he got the chance, Gina had already stood up, walking away. Toby watched her for a moment, then turned his sad gaze to Kazuma, as if asking him to do something. Kazuma sighed, patting his head.
“Keep an eye on her, alright?” he said.
Toby let out a small whimper, then dashed toward Gina. Kazuma lowered his eyes to that child again: he was so young… Shouldn’t be older than ten or eleven.
Just like Iris.
Something burned inside Kazuma’s chest, bitter and painful. He carefully pulled that sheet over the child, covering him. It was terrible enough to think that such a young child could think of taking his own life, but…
What Gina said came back to his mind. Could it really be something else? He had lived long enough in that place to know better than to doubt anything. Still… He was just a child. Why would anyone…?
Kazuma took a deep breath, then stood up, back to his professional attitude. There wasn’t much else to do at the crime scene: to everyone but Gina, that case was already closed. Her words, however, followed him all the way back to the office.
As soon as he walked inside, Barok looked at him. “Welcome back.”
Kazuma nodded in response. He approached Barok, whose expression quickly changed to concern.
“Is something the matter?” asked Barok.
How should he begin to explain the situation? His mind was still a mess of thoughts when the words found their way out of his mouth.
“It was a child.” His voice was low, far from his professional tone. “A boy around ten, who lived on the streets. Possibly suicide.”
Barok slightly widened his eyes. “I… I see. It must have been difficult.” He went silent for a moment. “How is Lestrade?”
“It was… hard for her.”
Barok nodded. Neither of them spoke for a while, until Kazuma inhaled deeply, regaining his composure.
“Lord van Zieks,” he said, “Gina said it’s the second case like this in the past few months. Apparently, they have ruled both out as suicide.”
“It seems plausible, given the circumstances.”
“Gina doesn’t think that’s the case, though,” Kazuma continued. “She believes that something is amiss.”
“Amiss?”
“Yes,” said Kazuma. “She is sure it wasn’t suicide, and I trust her instincts.” He made a small pause. “Not only that, but she knows those kids better than either of us.”
“Indeed.” Barok considered it for a while. “We should give the autopsy report a thorough look, to make sure we’re not letting anything slip by.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me,” answered Barok. “If there happens to be more to these deaths, it is our duty to uncover it.”
Kazuma couldn’t hold back a slight smile. He admired that about Barok: as long as there was a chance they had let the truth slip by, he wouldn’t willingly give up on a case. He valued the truth above everything else—something that, unfortunately, few lawyers could honestly say about themselves.
Kazuma was about to return to his desk to write a proper report, but his eyes fell upon that letter Barok was reading, and something about it grabbed his attention.
“What’s this?”
He reached for that letter, taking it before Barok could stop him.
“Kazuma…”
It was a short, clear message: stop disturbing old graves, unless you wish to end up in one. Kazuma scowled. Graves…? It took him a moment… Could they have meant those old cases that had been reopened after Mael Stronghart’s arrest? Of course, many people had been against it, especially considering all the rotten truths they had uncovered thanks to those investigations. And Barok… He was the one at the front of it all, facing all opposition without fear, as usual. It wasn’t news that many hated him for it, but to openly threaten a man like that…
Kazuma looked away from those words, at Barok. “Who sent this to you?”
Barok sighed. “I cannot tell. There is no shortage of people who resent me. This is the fourth warning I receive this month, and I cannot even say for sure if they are coming from a single person or not.”
“Fourth…?” The lack of concern in his tone bothered Kazuma. “Lord van Zieks… You should take these threats more seriously.”
“I’ve received enough threats in my life for them to seem like all bark and no bite. If someone truly wants me dead, they will attack me on a dark street, like the others.”
The thought brought a bitter taste to Kazuma’s mouth. “That’s far from reassuring.”
“I apologize.” Barok reached for that paper, calmly taking it from Kazuma’s hands. “What I mean is, this is not the first letter of this kind that I receive, and most certainly won’t be the last, either.”
“Even if it was proved that you’re not the Reaper?”
“To many, I still am.” Barok offered him a faint, humorless smile. “Please, don’t look so dejected. I’m already used to this sort of treatment.”
“That’s the problem… You shouldn’t be.”
Barok’s expression softened. “I’m glad at least you think that way.” Before Kazuma could answer, he pulled out his watch, checking it. “It is getting late. You should write that report so we can leave for the day.”
Kazuma averted his gaze, slightly frustrated. “What a clever way to avoid the subject.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“If you say so.”
Despite his frustration, Kazuma did what Barok said. They left the office soon after he was done, boarding a carriage together. They took their seats across from each other, and for the first few minutes of that trip, stayed completely silent.
“Are you angry at me?” asked Barok after a while.
His words made Kazuma finally notice the deep crease between his eyebrows, and how tightly his arms were crossed against his chest. Yes, of course he was angry… At countless different things, but not at Barok.
“No, that’s not it…” He uncrossed his arms, turning his gaze to the window. “I just wish I could do something about all this.”
“I appreciate the concern.”
Kazuma didn’t answer immediately, considering the situation. He looked at Barok. “Have you ever considered leaving London for a while? At least until these rumors die down?”
Barok shook his head. “I cannot do that. Especially not now, with our justice system the way it is.”
A disappointing, but not surprising answer. “I thought so.”
Barok observed him for a long while, seeming hesitant. “Do you regret becoming my apprentice?”
The question caught Kazuma off-guard. “No. Why?”
His answer seemed to make Barok relax a little. “Good. I’m grateful to have at least one person I can trust without any doubts by my side.”
His words were unexpected, but not unpleasant. Still, it was difficult for Kazuma to find a response.
“It’s always strange to receive these compliments from you…” he murmured.
“More reasons for you to take them with great relish.”
The hint of amusement in Barok’s voice made Kazuma chuckle. “Oh, certainly. I might even write them down and frame them on my wall. This way I’ll have something to appreciate when you go back to your usual, cranky self.”
“In that case, I should do the same to your words of kindness, as a reminder of the reason why I endure your disrespectful manners.”
“Sure, you can do it…” Kazuma shrugged. “But I’ll just deny ever saying them in the first place.”
“Says the man who was beside himself with worry for me just a minute ago.”
Kazuma hated that he couldn’t argue with that.
“To be fair,” he said, “you give me enough reasons to worry.”
“A fair point, indeed.” Barok thought briefly. “But being cared for isn’t a bad feeling. Perhaps I should give you more reasons to worry from now on.”
Kazuma narrowed his eyes. “Lord prosecutor Barok van Zieks, sir…”
Barok slightly raised his eyebrows. “It doesn’t sound respectful when you say it in that tone.”
“That’s the intention.”
“I appreciate you proving my previous words for me.”
Kazuma grinned. “You’re very welcome, my lord.”
Barok simply observed him for a moment. “Barok. Outside of the office, please call me Barok.”
The request caught him by surprise. “Are you giving me permission to be even more disrespectful?”
“You would do it regardless of my will.”
“That’s not true…” Kazuma shrugged. “I would be disrespectful while using your full title, Prosecutor van Zieks.” He paused, smiling. “But, if that’s your wish, then… Thank you, Barok.”
Barok’s expression slowly softened into a small, but honest smile. It was a strangely cute expression, especially coming from someone who was perpetually scowling—and Kazuma quite liked it.
The moment was interrupted by a loud, cracking sound. The carriage turned violently. Kazuma was thrown in Barok’s direction, and then to the side, his body slamming painfully against the walls of the carriage again and again.
It all lasted but a few seconds. Kazuma tried to move, his ears still ringing from that noise. An explosion…? He opened his eyes, disoriented, and it took him a moment to realize that the carriage was upside down. His chest tightened, and he looked around, his gaze soon falling upon the man next to him.
“Barok!” Kazuma leaned in his direction, looking at his face. “Are you hurt?”
Barok was still conscious, but his face was contorted in a pained grimace. He cradled his ribs, taking in some shallow and quick breaths.
That… didn’t look good…
“Just a light injury…” Barok muttered.
Kazuma doubted there was anything light about it, but didn’t argue: getting Barok out of there was more important.
“I’ll help you out of here…”
He had to kick the door open, then grabbed Barok, dragging him out of the wreckage. Barok groaned in pain.
“Sorry…” said Kazuma. “Just endure it for a moment.”
Barok didn’t answer, but his breaths were hasty and shallow. It was difficult to move such a heavy man, and the fear of making his injuries worse didn’t help. He managed to get him out of the carriage, but had no time for relief.
“Kazuma…!”
The urgency in Barok’s voice let Kazuma know what awaited them even before he followed his gaze. A small group of men quickly approached them, and any foolish hope that they were there to help faded as soon as he caught a glimpse of their swords. Kazuma jumped to his feet, reaching for his sword.
Five… It wouldn’t be easy, especially when he was already in pain. But Barok couldn’t fight in that state, so he had no choice but to face them on his own. He raised his sword, stopping an attack from one of those men; he wasn’t weak, but his lack of technique made it clear that he wasn’t an experienced swordsman. Good… That disadvantage in numbers was bad enough by itself.
A second man approached the first, carelessly attacking from the side. Kazuma managed to push the first man away, turning his sword against his other opponent, cutting his forearm with the blade, making him let go of his sword. Surprisingly easy… unfortunately, the other men didn’t seem to be as careless as that one, waiting for an opening to act.
Kazuma almost increased the distance between him and those assailants by instinct, but stopped himself in time: those men were there for Barok… Kazuma couldn’t leave him on his own.
So, he stood his ground, staying between Barok and those men. A long, tense moment passed before one of them finally acted, but Kazuma managed to avoid his sword, grabbing his arm, using the men’s own momentum to make him fall. Kazuma had barely recovered from the action when another man was already upon him, attacking with his sword raised high. Kazuma stopped the attack with his blade, but the man didn’t back away, trying to win that duel with nothing but pure strength. And he was strong… With some effort, Kazuma managed to push him away, in time to stop another man from attacking him from behind. The tip of Kazuma’s sword cut the man’s chest, and the wound, despite not being deep, made the man step back, covering his chest with a hand, wide-eyed.
That strong man from before attacked again, but this time he didn’t try to use a sword, grabbing Kazuma by the shoulder. “You bloody dog…!”
Kazuma threw his weight against the man, pushing him against the wreckage, and the impact made him let go. Kazuma stepped back, readying his sword. Before he could attack, however, he noticed another assailant approaching him from the side, and, without thinking, raised his left arm, feeling a sharp pain. Moved by instinct, he hit the man’s torso with his knee.
The man near the wreckage recovered from the impact, and dashed toward Kazuma with a raised fist. Kazuma let go of his sword and took a step to the side, grabbing the man’s arm with both hands, throwing him over his shoulder to the ground. His arm stung, and the move was far from graceful, but still made his opponent groan in pain. Kazuma took his sword from the ground, turning his body toward a man who was still standing, pointing it toward his face. The man instinctively raised his hands, taking some steps back before running away.
Kazuma quickly returned to his place near Barok, sword in hand, staring at the three men still there. The strong one stood from the ground, but didn’t act for a moment, considering the situation.
“It ain’t worth it.” He gestured for the others. “Leave the freak, this ain’t worth the coin.”
Before Kazuma could question them about those words, the men fled from the scene. His instincts made him want to chase them to get an answer, but something stronger than it kept him in place. Kazuma sheathed his sword, then approached Barok, crouching by his side.
“Kazuma…” Barok muttered. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Thank God…”
Barok shut his eyes, hugging his own torso. His breaths were still shallow and pained… It made Kazuma fear his injuries were worse than they seemed.
“Stay with me…” said Kazuma. “I’ll take you to a hospital.”
His words made Barok stare at him, grabbing his arm with whatever strength he still had. “No… Not to a hospital…”
“But…”
“Please…” he insisted. “It’s not safe.”
Kazuma didn’t answer, unsure of what to do. He knew Barok had a strong aversion to hospitals, but… No, it wasn’t as absurd as it initially seemed: if those assailants had gone as far as to use explosives, a hospital door certainly wouldn’t stop them. Still, they couldn’t leave those injuries unattended.
A feeling of anxiety threatened to take over him, but Kazuma fought against it. A deep breath helped him clear his mind a little: they weren’t too far from Baker Street… Iris was a doctor, so… If he could take Barok there…
“Alright…” said Kazuma. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
Barok didn’t protest.
“Can you stand?” asked Kazuma. “You can lean on me.”
He simply nodded in response, placing his arm over Kazuma’s shoulders, while Kazuma did the same to his waist. They had barely walked a few steps when Barok tripped, almost taking Kazuma down with him.
“Forgive me…” he muttered. “I lost my balance.”
He hadn’t simply lost his balance… the man was almost passing out from the pain. He wouldn’t be able to walk all the way back like that.
“It’s alright.” Kazuma crouched with his back turned toward Barok. “Here… I’ll carry you. Hold on.”
For a moment, Barok seemed about to protest, but a few seconds later he simply nodded, doing as Kazuma said, putting his arms around Kazuma’s neck while Kazuma supported his thighs with his hands. He was heavy, and their sizes made walking slightly difficult, but nothing Kazuma couldn’t handle. Despite the pain he still felt from the accident and the recent battle, he managed to take step after step toward Baker Street. His left arm seemed to be burning and cold at the same time; the sleeve of his shirt felt damp against his skin. Kazuma had a bad feeling about it, so he chose not to look down, trying to keep his breaths steady as he moved forward. Just a little more…
It felt like an eternity had passed before they finally reached that familiar apartment. He finally let Barok down, opening the door, dragging Barok alongside him. Being in that safe, familiar place, made Kazuma’s body relax. His legs gave way, and he stumbled forward.
“Kazuma…!”
They clumsily fell together when Barok tried to catch him. Barok groaned in pain, but quickly reached for Kazuma, holding his shoulders in an attempt to help him sit up.
“What’s wrong?” Barok’s gaze fell upon Kazuma’s arm, and his face lost whatever color it still had. “You’re bleeding…!”
“It’s nothing, I…”
Following Barok’s gaze made Kazuma go silent. His left sleeve was stained by blood. His blood. Kazuma’s stomach turned at the realization, and everything seemed to spin around him. Before he could fall, Barok pulled him closer, holding him against his chest. That proximity was strangely nostalgic… Of a time he never thought he could miss, when, despite his empty mind, things seemed much simpler—in his life, and between the two of them.
But, despite everything, Barok’s careful embrace hadn’t changed. Kazuma exhaled, resting his head on Barok’s chest, pressing his ear against his heart. Beating… Alive…
He hadn’t failed him… Not yet.
The sound of steps, followed by a familiar voice, brought him back to reality.
“Kazie?” Iris looked in their direction from her bedroom door. “Is that…?” She went silent, widening her eyes. “What happened?”
Without waiting for an answer, she dashed in their direction. Iris glanced from one of them to the other, as if trying to understand the gravity of their injuries as quickly as possible. Without stopping to think, she reached for a small decorative towel, wrapping it tightly around Kazuma’s injured arm.
“Keep pressing it.” She looked at Barok. Try not to move, and keep your breaths slow and steady. I’ll–”
Her words were interrupted by the sound of another door opening, and in a second Sholmes was approaching them. “Is something the matter, Iris?”
“Daddy…” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I need your help!”
Sholmes’ expression darkened as soon as he looked at them. He forced a slight, reassuring smile to Iris. “Go get what you need, dear. I’ll take them to my bedroom.”
“Right!”
Sholmes approached them, the smile fading from his face. “What happened?”
It took Kazuma’s mind a moment to find the answer. “There was an explosion on the street. Some men attacked us…”
“An attempt against Barok’s life, I presume?”
“So it seems…” said Barok.
Sholmes exhaled, silent for a second.
“Can you move?” he asked.
Kazuma shook his head. “He is injured… He’ll need help.”
“What about you?”
“I’m fine now. I can walk.”
“You shouldn’t,” said Barok. “You almost fell a moment ago.”
“I was just dizzy.”
“Because you lost much blood.”
He looked away from Barok, unwilling to argue over something like that. “Mr. Sholmes, please help him to your bedroom.”
“Very well.” Sholmes held Barok’s arm, placing it over his shoulders. Then, he glanced at Kazuma. “Stay here. I’ll return for you in a minute.”
Kazuma nodded. He still felt light-headed, but, slowly, some pieces started to fit together in his mind. That attack, those letters from earlier, that assailant’s comment on someone paying them to finish the job… It couldn’t just be a coincidence. Soon, Sholmes returned to the front door, helping Kazuma stand.
“Mr. Sholmes…” said Kazuma. “I need to tell you something.”
“Go on, my dear boy.”
He made a brief summary of that incident, as well as all those apparently connected details. Sholmes listened in grave silence until he was finished, then sighed.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “Now, come… We must take care of that injury.”
Kazuma agreed, allowing Sholmes to help him walk to his bedroom, where Barok was already sitting on the bed. Sholmes gestured for Kazuma to sit at the lower border of the mattress. Moments later, Iris dashed inside the bedroom with a first-aid kit and some clean bandages.
“I think Mr. Barry might have broken a rib…” She glanced at them. “Daddy, can you take care of Kazie’s injury?”
“Of course.” Sholmes took some items from the first-aid kit, then pulled a chair, sitting in front of Kazuma. “Allow me…”
He helped Kazuma take off his shirt, then examined that injury attentively.
“It looks like a knife injury,” he said.
That seemed to bring something back to Kazuma’s mind. “Ah, yes… I think someone stabbed me during that fight.”
His words made Barok stare at him. “You were stabbed? And you said nothing?”
“What was I even supposed to say?” Kazuma sighed. “And it didn’t seem that bad at the—”
Barok tried to stand up, but fell back with a grunt.
“Don’t move!” said Iris.
But he didn’t even seem to hear her words, glaring at Kazuma. “What were you thinking? Carrying me with an injury like that?”
His loud voice caught Kazuma off-guard. “You couldn’t walk on your own.”
“Then you should have left me behind!” Barok continued. “You don’t have to protect me… If your life is in danger, then run!”
Kazuma opened his mouth, but couldn’t answer for a few seconds. “I can’t do that…”
“You can and you will.” Barok retorted. “This is a direct order.”
His initial shock slowly grew hotter inside him. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you really ordering me to leave you to die?”
Sholmes placed a hand on Kazuma’s shoulder. “There, there… Let’s calm down.”
“I’m ordering you to place your life before mine,” said Barok.
Something in his answer made that hot feeling overflow in Kazuma’s chest. He stood up, but before he could do anything else, Sholmes held him by the shoulders, keeping him in place. Kazuma gritted his teeth, looking at Barok.
“Listen here…” he muttered. “You may not give a shit about your life, but there are people who do. So you better stop acting like this.”
Barok narrowed his eyes. “And what right do you have to say this to me?”
Iris looked from one of them to the other. “Please, stop fighting!”
Kazuma looked away. He didn’t want to turn that into a fight, but that man… He always said those things. Always acted like his life was worth nothing. Always endured everything Kazuma put him through quietly. He was always like that… Every single time. At that rate, he would end up getting himself killed, and believe he was doing the world a favor. Kazuma couldn’t watch it anymore.
“Just to make it clear, my lord…” said Kazuma. “I’m not taking any orders from you.”
Barok lowered his gaze. “Then, perhaps you should return to your homeland, since I have no need for a dead apprentice.”
“And what makes you think I need a dead mentor?”
“Stop talking about dying!” Iris yelled. “No one is going to die… You’re both fine!”
Her voice had the same effect as cold water over those burning feelings. Kazuma looked at her, lowering his head.
“I’m sorry, Iris…”
“Yes,” said Barok. “I apologize.”
She didn’t answer for a moment, then looked away from them, reaching for those bandages.
“Just don’t say these things again,” she murmured.
They agreed quietly. Sholmes guided Kazuma back to the chair, searching those medical supplies for a needle and some thread.
“I’ll need to stitch your wound,” said Sholmes. “Stay still… This will hurt a little.”
Kazuma nodded, gritting his teeth as Sholmes disinfected and stitched his wound. Despite the pain, however, the thoughts wouldn’t stop tormenting his mind, even more as his anger subsided.
So many times he had wished Barok would yell at him… Blame him, say whatever it was on his mind, allow Kazuma to fully feel the guilt that consumed him since that trial.
But not like that…
He didn’t say another word until Sholmes was done with his wound. Not much later, Iris took a step away from Barok, placing the supplies back inside their bag.
“You should avoid moving for at least two weeks,” she said.
“I will,” said Barok. “I apologize for the trouble I’ve caused.”
“Speaking of which,” said Sholmes, “you shouldn’t go back alone to your residence in this state, dear Barok. Stay here until your ribs heal properly.”
His words seemed to surprise Barok. “I couldn’t—”
“Mr. Barry, please…” Iris crossed her arms. “It’s not the time to act stubborn.”
Barok lowered his gaze. “I wouldn’t wish to impose.”
“You’re not,” said Sholmes. “Besides, we wouldn’t be at peace if you went back on your own. Isn’t that right, Kazuma?”
His words caught Kazuma off-guard. “Ah… Yes.”
“See?” Sholmes continued. “We would probably follow you to your residence, and make you furious at us in the process.”
“And I would go with them, of course,” said Iris. “You need medical supervision, after all.”
“Please, my dear prosecutor. I can guarantee you that it is of no trouble to us.”
Barok considered it for a while. “If you’re sure I won’t be troubling you, then… Very well, I shall stay for a few days.”
“Marvelous.” Sholmes smiled. “You can use this bedroom, so you can avoid the stairs. I shall temporarily move to our dear Susato’s old bedroom.”
“I deeply apologize.”
“No need for apologies,” Sholmes insisted. “Just relax and enjoy your days of much-needed rest.”
“I don’t know if I can enjoy them in this state…”
“Fair point, my dear Barok.”
Sholmes swiftly stood up, moving to the door.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I’ll make a brief trip to the crime scene. I may still find some clue overlooked by the police.”
“Alright, daddy… Be careful.” Iris looked at Barok, then Kazuma. “I’ll prepare supper for us. Call me if there’s any problem, alright?”
She left the bedroom, her faint smile doing little to mask her upset expression. Kazuma’s heart tightened: he had gone too far… No matter how frustrated he was at Barok’s self-loathing, he shouldn’t have dragged Iris into all that.
“Kazuma…” Barok’s low voice called his attention. “I know I was harsh, but I won’t take my previous words back.”
Kazuma’s heart sank. “Did you mean it, then?”
“What?”
“That I’m no longer…”
It took Barok a few seconds to understand what he meant. “Oh.” He slightly widened his eyes. “No, of course not.”
“Good.” Kazuma crossed his arms, looking away. “Good…”
Kazuma’s throat closed. He wanted to say something else, but the words didn’t come. Barok didn’t speak either, keeping his gaze down. After a minute of heavy silence, Kazuma finally walked away, leaving that bedroom. He walked upstairs, sitting at his desk, staring at its empty surface for a while, trying to make sense of that mess of thoughts.
He could have died that night… Barok could have died. What in hell was he doing…? Someone he loved could die at any moment… He should know that better than anyone by that point. Not only that, but if he died without saying everything he needed to say, his soul would never find peace. He couldn’t keep it all inside anymore… If he tried to, all those feelings and unsaid words would crush his chest from within.
As if moved by something stronger than him, Kazuma reached inside his drawer. He took a blank piece of paper and his quill; then, ignoring the trembling of his hand, started to write those words meant for Yujin Mikotoba.
He wrote about his constant regret, and the fear that he wasn’t strong enough to face those demons he had fed for such a long time. About that feeling that something was broken in his mind, and he didn’t know if it would ever be fine again. About how it seemed like, whenever he started to believe things were starting to get into place, he felt as if he was losing control of himself. About how he doubted his own existence, and how unreal everything felt to him during those terrifying moments.
About everything Barok did for him, and how much guilt his kindness made Kazuma feel after that trial. About how scared he was of something happening to Barok, and him being unable to do anything to help him. About how much pain he had caused that man, and how much he regretted it. About how conflicted he was for caring so much for the man who sentenced his father to death.
About how much he regretted everything… How much he wanted to go back in time, so he could properly enjoy his time with Mikotoba and Susato as a family. How guilty he felt for disappointing them. How much he wanted to compensate for all those terrible choices he made, and all the pain he caused them, but had no idea of how to even begin.
About how much Kazuma wanted to see them.
He kept writing, word after word… Even if it didn’t sound perfect, or if the words failed him halfway… What mattered was telling him what he failed to say again and again.
I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, but I needed to tell you this at least once: to me, you were always like a father. I know I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you did, but I at least want you to know how much it all means to me.
He stopped for a second, then brought that quill down one final time.
I love you.
Kazuma took an envelope, sealing those many messy pages inside before he could think better about those words he wrote. He leaned back on the chair, staring at the ceiling; his throat was dry, his eyes stung, but no tears came. In fact, he had no idea of what he was feeling… All he knew was that he needed them: Mikotoba, Susato, Ryunosuke… He wanted to be with them again, so much it hurt. He needed to see them, hear their voices… Even if he didn’t deserve their love and forgiveness, he still needed it more than anything.
Kazuma stayed in his bedroom for a while, trying to calm his mind down. When the anxiety finally subsided, he was left with a strange sensation similar to a hangover—how much of it was a result of the exhaustion and blood loss, and how much was because of all those feelings he had forced out of his chest, he couldn’t tell for sure.
But he couldn’t just stay there forever… He needed a bath, and to properly apologize to Iris. His entire body protested when he left his bed, and as soon as he stepped outside the bedroom, he almost bumped into Sholmes.
“Careful, my boy,” said the detective.
Kazuma looked at him, slightly surprised. “You’re back already…”
“Unfortunately, the police wasn’t willing to cooperate.” A small pause. “But I think you will be glad to know the coachman survived the incident. He suffered some burns and fractures, but his life is out of risk.”
His words made Kazuma stare at him, speechless. He had been so worried about taking Barok somewhere safe, that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he should have checked on the unfortunate coachman until that moment. As if guessing his thoughts, Sholmes lightly patted his shoulder.
“You did well bringing Barok here,” said Sholmes. “From what you told me, it would be unwise to rely on the authorities to keep him out of harm’s way.”
Kazuma nodded, hesitating for a moment before speaking again.
“I didn’t expect something like that.” He lowered his eyes. “I know there are people who want to harm him, but…”
“I understand your surprise,” said Sholmes. “I didn’t expect his enemies to go this far, either. It was a risky move… If not foolish, considering how they faced you in a sword fight instead of immediately fleeing from the scene. An explosion like that is bound to catch some attention.”
Kazuma’s stomach turned. “Are you saying…?”
Sholmes nodded. “Whoever did it, either were fools or truly wanted our dear prosecutor to die tonight.” A grave pause. “And the circumstantial evidence we have leads me to place my bets on the latter.”
Kazuma’s heart dropped. “But they failed, so… It could happen again.”
“Indeed.”
The thought was nothing but disquieting. “Is there anything we can do?”
“For now, we can only keep an eye on our stubborn friend, and make sure he has enough rest until he recovers.”
At least Barok would be safe there, with them, for a while. Nothing but a small relief, but it was still something.
“You should rest too.” Sholmes offered him a slight smile. “But only after you change those clothes and eat something. Supper should be ready soon… You need some food after all that blood you lost.”
He seemed about to leave. Before he could, however, Kazuma took a deep breath, gathering his courage.
“Mr. Sholmes…” he said. “I have a favor to ask you.”
Sholmes faced him. “And what is it?”
Kazuma approached him, handing him that recently sealed letter. “Could you please send this for me?” He averted his gaze. “I don’t think I can do it myself.”
Sholmes held the envelope, glancing at the name it carried. He smiled. “Certainly.”
Kazuma hesitated. “And…”
“Yes?”
Kazuma looked at him, meeting his gaze. “I wanted to thank you for everything.”
Sholmes dismissed his words with a gesture. “How many times have I told you? There is no need for such formality.”
“No… I mean it.” Kazuma lowered his voice. “If you hadn’t offered that I stay here when you did, I…” His voice threatened to crack, inhaling deeply once again. “Thank you… Really.”
Sholmes observed him in silence for a moment. He took a step in Kazuma’s direction, then held him by the shoulders, gently pulling him closer into a hug.
“It was nothing, my boy,” he murmured. “It was nothing.”
At first, Kazuma couldn’t react. Hesitatingly, he raised his arms, leaning forward, resting his forehead on Sholmes’ shoulder, slowly relaxing into that hug.