Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Asougi returned to his flat after work, he noticed a paper hanging from his front door. In bright red letters it read: Eviction Notice.

He knew, logically, he should be more upset about this, but he felt nothing as he stared at it. Part of him sort of figured this was coming. Though his memory had been spotty since he had gotten it back, he remembered that Vortex was the one who had let him live here, rent free, as he had to make up for it by being Van Zieks's nameless, voiceless servant, something he hadn’t actually been paid for. That, and he was to do whatever Vortex had instructed him, seeing how he was totally reliant on him just to live here. Asougi was more than thankful that that was over, but considering Vortex was in jail now, it was no surprise he was being kicked out. Whoever owned the place now probably didn’t want him here. And really, he couldn’t blame them.

His self-deprecation aside, now he had a new problem on his hands. Where the hell was he going to go?

He could probably ask Van Zieks for the day off tomorrow, then spend the time flat hunting. Surely there had to be something around here that his salary could afford.

Hopefully.

If not, then he supposed his abroad trip would be coming to a close early. That would be sad, considering he had just gotten here. Well, no… he had been here for almost a whole year now. But he had spent a great deal of that time being a nameless amnesiac who was used by others. It would be a shame for his trip to end right when he finally got the chance to do something for himself. Naruhodou would surely be ashamed of him if he went home this early only to have done nothing in the time since he had left. He couldn’t even begin to guess how disappointed his parents would be in him, too.

Honestly, if he got to that, he would prefer just to live in his and Van Zieks’s shared office and struggle for awhile on his own. He didn’t want to admit defeat and go back to Japan, back to the Mikotobas and Naruhodou, until he felt he could face them with confidence, and he could feel as though he had earned the right to call them and that place his home.

Asougi took a deep breath, trying to keep those negative thoughts from consuming him. One step at a time. And step one was to go inside and get his things together so he could focus on moving out when the time came.

However, before he could set foot inside his flat, a bird flew out of nowhere and crashed into his window before falling into the shrubs in front of it. Asougi stared at the shrub, perplexed for a moment, before sighing and heading over there. As much as he wanted nothing to do with it, he doubted the new landlord would appreciate him leaving a dead bird as a goodbye gift. That, and on the off chance it had survived, he’d like to help it out.

He rustled through the shrubbery until he finally found it. It wasn’t moving, so he picked it up. However, he also noticed that it seemed to be… sparking, a little. And that there were gears sticking out of it. And it was rather heavy for a bird. What in the world was this thing?

“Oh, so that’s where it went!”

Asougi turned around and found a little girl approaching him. He recognized her; her bright pink hair tied up in an elaborate bow was unmistakable. This was Holmes’s adopted daughter, as well as Naruhodou and Susato’s friend. He remembered she had been present during Naruhodou’s final trial, and had been there to see them all off when they had departed for Japan. However, Asougi couldn’t remember her name. After all, he had hardly talked to her back then and he hadn’t seen her since. He just hoped the feeling was mutual, lest he embarrass himself by not remembering.

She stopped in front of him and gasped.

“Whoa, hi Mr. Asougi!”

Damn. She did remember him.

“So this is where you live! I’ve been wondering about that. How are you doing?”

“…I’m doing fine. How are you, um…” What in the world was her name again? Van Zieks was her real last name but she didn’t know that. He remembered she didn’t go by Holmes. What did it start with again? Was it W? He felt like it was W. “Miss Watts?”

“It’s Watson.” She corrected. “But you can just call me Iris, y’know.”

“Hmm.” Damn, he was close. But at the very least, she didn’t seem to mind. However, he couldn’t really bring himself to call her Iris. It felt too… informal. He didn’t even call the person he was closest to by his first name, and this little girl hardly knew him! He didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, especially considering he likely wasn’t going to be spending much time with her. “Anyways, this is yours?”

“Yes, thank you!”

He stooped down a little so she could take it from him.

“What is it, anyways?”

“It’s an invention. I’m trying to create a robotic bird I can fly around with this.” She pulled out a small square-like contraption from her pocket. It sort of reminded him of the base of a kite, but covered with buttons and a stick.

“What’s its purpose?”

“Does it need one? It’s just a toy. I thought it’d be fun.”

“Right.” It was easy to forget that despite her genius, she was still a little kid.

“But unfortunately it flew out of control and crashed. It didn’t break anything, did it?”

“Aside from itself, no.”

“Well that’s good! It’d be awful if it were to break your window…” She trailed off, her eyes meandering to his soon to be old front door. “Mr. Asougi, what happened? Are you being kicked out?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” He said, taking a step in front of the door. She pushed past him and got a better look anyways.

“You’re being evicted?” She gasped. “That’s awful! What happened?! Did you not pay your rent on time?”

“No, it’s not that! It’s… uh. Complicated. New owners, I think. Guess they didn’t want me here.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I’m sure I’ll find something soon.”

She didn’t reply. She looked at him skeptically before putting the broken toy back in her bag. She then dug through it, looking for something else. Finally she found it: a small pink bear stuffed animal, made to resemble her likeness.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh.” She raised her finger to tell him to wait, then pressed a button on the back of the doll before bringing it to her ear and waiting another moment. “Hello, papa? …Yes it’s me! Who else would it be? …Yes, it’s an emergency! So you know Narudie’s friend, Mr. Asougi, right? Well I accidentally bumped into him and – what? No, he’s fine. Yes, he’s fine. …Why would something be wrong with his neck? He's fine. Anyways I just found out he’s being evicted and he needs a place to stay, so -”

“Miss Watson, that’s not –”

“Shh.” Iris said again. “Anyways, I know there’s room for him upstairs but can you make sure it’s not too dusty up there? We haven’t really touched it since – okay, thank you! …Oh, I dunno, probably sometime tomorrow? Thanks again, Papa! I… Yes, I was just about to say that myself! I love you, too. Bye!”

She put the phone away and Asougi just stared at her, perplexed.

“So I guess Papa and I can come over sometime tomorrow to help you move your things over, and – ”

“Miss Watson, that’s really not – ”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Papa’s in between cases right now and I don’t have any plans for tomorrow.”

“That’s not the problem. The problem is I can’t live with you.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“It’s such a short notice; there’s no way I wouldn’t be a burden.”

“And it’s such short notice that you’re being evicted, too. Did you even read the notice? They’re only giving you a week to move out! That’s not nearly enough time for someone to pack up their things and find someplace new.”

“That may be true but… why in the world would you want me to stay with you? You hardly know me!”

“And? I hardly knew Susie and Narudie when they moved in with us. And now I consider them to be as close as family.”

“Yes, but… I don’t need help. I’m fine on my own. I wouldn’t want to trouble you and Mr. Holmes like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Papa prides himself on helping people who need it, and I want to do the same.”

“But…”

“Look… you don’t have to stay with us forever. It can just be until you’re able to find someplace on your own. But we want to help, as one friend of Narudie’s to another. How about it?”

Asougi was still skeptical, but he didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to keep saying no and fighting back; after all, he knew better than anyone just how untrustworthy people could be, and he had reason to be apprehensive. …But Iris was just a little girl; how malicious could she be? Besides, he didn’t want to be rude to her, either. And he supposed if Naruhodou could find it in his heart to trust these people, then he should at the very least try.

“All right, Miss Watson. Thank you.”

“Is that really all you have?”

The very next day, just as promised, Iris had showed up to Asougi’s old flat to help him move out. Originally, Holmes was supposed to come too, but Asougi insisted he didn’t have much on him and could do it on his own. Iris still came anyways, if only so he wouldn’t get lost on his way to their flat.

“Yeah. I was serious when I said I wouldn’t need any help.”

For once, he wasn’t making things up as an excuse for his pride and his inability to trust others. He had very little to his name, and all of it fit neatly inside a single box; a box that Iris could likely lift on her own, too.

“You don’t even have any furniture of your own?”

“No. The furniture was there when I arrived. I doubt they’d want me taking it.”

The flat that Vortex had gotten for him was already furnished when he had gotten there. Of course it was sparse and far from luxurious, but it was livable and that’s what mattered. He wasn’t too attached to anything there and doubted he’d get away with stealing the armchair or the bed, so he let it all be.

“Well… if you don’t mind me asking, what do you have in there?”

“Oh. Uh… Some books and files from work. Toothbrush and soap, that kind of stuff… My prosecutor’s outfit. Like I said, there’s not a lot.”

“No offense, but how did you live like that?”

“I don’t know. I had my own things on the voyage over but… they’re probably all with Naruhodou now. I guess I was so busy with work that I didn’t really think about getting new things. Honestly, I lived more at the office than I did there. It’s complicated.”

“Well, it’ll be different with me and Papa! I can guarantee that!”

He believed that, but he still found himself wondering if different meant it’d be better or worse. Perhaps it was pathetic of him, getting nervous from the help of a child, but he couldn’t help it. As of late, it seemed all the people that offered him a helping hand used it to stab him in the back later on. Jigoku had promised to help him travel to England so he could pursue the truth of what happened to his father… only to coerce him into attempted assassination when he had been the true killer all along. Vortex had promised to keep him safe and help him live here in England… only for him to treat him like dirt and plan to use him for worse.

Now of course he didn’t suspect Iris of such treachery; she was just a little kid and her kindness seemed genuine. It was Holmes he suspected of ulterior motives. But he still felt anxious around Iris. It was her idea to let him stay with her. And if life taught him anything, she was going to regret that soon.

He had accepted, a long time ago now, that he just wasn’t a very likable person. He didn’t even like himself so how could anyone else? He had spent years trying to hide away everything he hated about himself from those around him so they could tolerate him. And it had worked, for a while at least. He doubted the Mikotobas or Naruhodou would want to give him the time of day or see him as their friend if they knew he wasn’t really always cool and calm and perfect all the time. But of course, the ugly truth had come out and now they didn’t care for him anymore. Their leaving England as soon as Naruhodou’s final case had ended when they had initially planned to stay was proof of that. He had shown that sometimes he got frustrated and angry and impulsive and just like that they had wanted nothing to do with him anymore. It served him right, he figured, for being stupid and naïve and letting people get close to him in the first place. He should’ve known by now that the only people who would ever love him were his family, his real one; and they were long gone and he wouldn’t be getting another one.

So he had a hard time trusting that things were going to be okay. After all, why would they be? Life had proven again and again that things simply didn’t go that way for him. Either Holmes was up to something with letting him stay here, or he himself would inevitably do something stupid and horrible to make them kick him out. Either way, this wasn’t going to be his home for long; he could just feel it.

When they arrived at the flat, Holmes wasn’t there; she informed him that this was normal. He was often out and about at odd hours of the day for cases or… whatever he wanted, really. He tended to act on whim. Either way, Iris was certain he’d reintroduce himself to Asougi soon enough.

But enough about him, she asserted. As soon as he had placed his meager belongings up in the attic, Iris insisted that the two of them go shopping, explaining that Asougi needed more than just two sets of clothes and hardly anything else to his name. That, and Iris said she had a surprise for him. He bought himself some new books to read, as well as a new waistcoat and shirt – something heavier for the winter that was coming – and then treated Iris for lunch afterwards for being so kind to him.

She chatted away the whole time, extremely nonchalantly, as if they were old friends. He couldn’t comprehend it. Even Naruhodou had been a little anxious around his intimidating aura when they had first met. But Iris seemed to think nothing of it and treated him like a friend. It was jarring. He had never had someone be so friendly so quickly to him before. Perhaps she was just like this for everyone? He could imagine that; she seemed lively and cheerful and he could easily picture Naruhodou overwhelmed as she chatted away at him immediately. But Asougi didn’t mind her conversation and let her chat away with him.

As she talked, he realized that this was the first time he had really had anyone talk to him of their own volition in England. He had to talk to Van Zieks as well as the detectives and witnesses for his work, but aside from that… there hadn’t been anyone. He supposed old habits died hard and he kept assuming to be silent, like Vortex had initially instructed him to be, so it was hard for him to talk to people, even for something as simple as a hello. He had hoped that he’d get better about it when everything settled down and he had Naruhodou and Susato to talk to but… no such luck. Either way, he kind of liked having Iris to talk to. It was better than the agonizing silence he had been surrounded by for the last couple of months.

On their way back to the flat, Iris stopped by a fabric store and bought a large amount of red cloth.

“What’s that for?” Asougi asked.

“You’ll see.” She replied happily. “Also… Mr. Asougi, what’s your first name?”

“Uh… why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t want to keep calling you Mr. Asougi. It’s too formal.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. I always call all my friends by nicknames…”

“Friends?”

“Yeah. Naruhodou is Narudie, Susato is Susie, before I started calling him Papa, Holmes was Holmsie… I want to do something like that for you too, but that doesn’t work with Asougi. It already ends with an ‘ie’ sound. I can’t do anything with it. So I wanna know if I can work with your first name instead.”

“Oh… well…” He felt skeptical. His first name… no one called him that. Aside from Susato’s formal Kazuma-sama, no one called him that. He was Asougi-kun to Professor Mikotoba, and Mr. Asougi to most people in London, and you there to Vortex and Van Zieks, and even to the person he trusted most in this world he was just… Asougi. His first name was special to him, something family only called him. The last people to call him by it freely had been his family – his parents. So to entrust it to this girl that hardly knew him felt… strange.

But on the other hand, she was giving him her best puppy dog eyes, and he didn’t want to be rude about it. It seemed first names were more commonly given here if her so nonchalantly telling him to call her Iris was any indication. Perhaps he was being the rude one by keeping it to himself.

“It’s uh… Kazuma.”

“Kazuma, huh? That’s a pretty name.”

He paused for a second. The name almost felt… foreign, unfamiliar. How long had it been since he said it? How long had it been since he had heard it?

“Anyways, it works perfectly.” She beamed at him. “Kazumie it is, then!”

“If that’s what you want to call me, Miss Watson.”

“You know you can call me Iris, right?”

“I… know.” He said hesitantly. He knew that, but he didn’t want to say it quite yet. It still felt too informal and far too soon. She hardly knew him, after all. “But, uh…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just leaving it out there.”

“Yeah. We’ll uh… we’ll see.”

If he was honest, he wasn’t planning on it. But what good would it do him to disappoint her early by saying so?

When they got back to the flat, Holmes still wasn’t back. Iris didn’t seem deterred by it and quickly went to work with whatever all that fabric was for. She got out all her sewing supplies and some measuring tape and asked Asougi for his assistance.

“What did you need me for?” He had asked.

“I need you to stand still and hold your arms out for me.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she beamed, “I’m making you a new suit!”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“Why not? I made Narudie and Susie new outfits when they lived here. I want to do the same for you!”

“But –”

“Besides, that suit you wear as a prosecutor looks a little too tight. It’d probably be easier to work in something more comfortable.”

He couldn’t deny that she was right. It was rather stuffy and uncomfortable and he couldn’t hide the disdain he had for it, especially since Vortex had been the one to get it for him. Considering he had just moved out of his dreary old flat, perhaps this was a chance to leave all of Vortex’s influences on him behind.

“Thank you, Miss Watson. That’s very sweet of you.”

He took off his jacket and headed to the center of the room to do as told, holding his arms out. Iris began to take his measurements, writing it down in a notebook in her hand. He stood in silence for moment to let her work but soon enough Iris paused just as she reached his right forearm.

“How’d you get that, Kazumie?” She asked.

“Get what?”

“That.” She poked his right arm, where a thick, bumpy scar ran across it. He recoiled a little; honestly he had forgotten all about it. He had been so used to living alone lately that he had no one to hide it from.

And it was yet another reason as to why he was confused by Iris's and Holmes's kindness.

He remembered, when he had been living under Vortex’s rules, Vortex had instructed him to never speak to anyone, under any circumstances. He was to listen and he was to obey; he could leave the talking to people who actually had something important to say. He was assigned to work silently beside Van Zieks, both in and out of the courtroom. That meant assisting him on investigations and essentially being his bodyguard when he was out on the streets of London.

There was one night that, while walking Van Zieks home, the two of them encountered a mob of people who wanted Van Zieks and his supposed curse gone. While this had happened before and would happen again, that night was different. There were more attackers than usual, and Asougi remembered being very fatigued that night. He hadn’t had dinner, as Van Zieks had gotten chicken and Asougi, even while an amnesiac, would still rather starve than eat it. His hands had been shaky and he had been careless and one of the men had managed to knock his sword out of his grip. With nothing left to defend himself with, he had quickly raised his arms to defend his face from a slash, taking the full force of a dagger to his forearm. Thankfully, he and Van Zieks managed to get away not too long after that, but the knife had torn deep into Asougi’s flesh. He remembered Van Zieks had looked down on him for it, telling him to pay more attention next time, leaving Asougi to go home alone and stitch his arm shut by himself. Vortex was much the same when he saw the jagged scar the next day, informing Asougi that should he get fatally wounded, he would be replaced and forgotten about in a matter of days. No one cared if he lived or died, and he was ultimately disposable so he really should be more careful.

“It’s… uh… it’s nothing.” Asougi finally said.

“Well, you’re no fun.” Iris pouted. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I can show you one of mine first.”

“That’s not really necessary – ”

She ignored him and brushed her bangs to the side. There was a visible scar on the right side of her forehead, though it was small and had long since healed over and he had to squint to see it.

“I got this when I was really little. So little I don’t remember it.”

“What happened?”

“It was just after I had figured out how to walk. Apparently, I was running around the flat when I ran straight into Papa’s work desk. I busted my head open.”

“That sounds awful!”

“Eh, I don’t think it was that bad. For as long as I can remember it’s been healed and hasn’t hurt. I’m sure it gave Papa quite the fright though.”

“I can imagine.” He remembered one time, when he had moved in with the Mikotobas, Susato had accidentally cut her hand open after tripping and falling on her walk home. He remembered he had been desperately worried about her, but that worry hadn’t even compared to Professor Mikotoba’s. Despite being a doctor and having likely seen worse he fussed over her relentlessly until she finally convinced him that she was fine, really. It was nice to see that Iris had such a kind, loving father as well.

“So, what about yours?” Iris asked.

“Oh. Uh…” He hesitated again. “It’s not a fun story.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Um… okay.” He took a deep breath. “When I was working under Van Zieks, I was sort of told to be his assistant… bodyguard… partner… something.”

“Which was it?”

“Let’s go with bodyguard. Yeah. Anyways, he uh… had a reputation for being cursed. And there were multiple times people attacked the both of us when we were walking around outside. One night I was clumsy and wound up getting stabbed in the arm… yeah. That’s all.”

“Kazumie…” She looked deeply saddened by that. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, it’s all right. It wasn’t that bad. Besides, it’s old. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it did, once.” She put down the notebook and her measuring tape and gave him a tight hug instead. Asougi immediately stiffened, not sure how to react. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been hugged at all. Maybe by Susato once when he was a teenager? Or was it his parents, long, long before that? Either way, he was unused to the kind, gentle touch and just stood there in place, frozen.

“Chin up, Kazumie!” She said once she stepped away. “Things will be better here. I promise!”

Asougi was still skeptical, but before he had the chance to mention his doubt, the front door to the flat opened, and Sherlock Holmes walked in. Asougi immediately felt a chill run up his spine. He quickly excused himself and headed back to his room before Holmes had even managed to take his coat off.

Asougi stayed in the attic until long past nightfall, not coming out except to tell Iris he wasn’t hungry when she called him for dinner. He hoped she wasn’t too offended; but considering he was just a tenant and not part of the family, he doubted she’d be too upset. He just… didn’t want to talk to Holmes.

He hadn’t seen Holmes until now, but he had his worries. Even if Iris had been the one to invite him to stay, it was technically his flat, not Iris’s, right? What reason did he have for letting him into his home? What was his ulterior motive? There had to be one, right? There was no way in hell he simply wanted him there, or was doing this for him out of the kindness of his heart. Would he really want to give Asougi a home? Just like that? No one did that without having something more sinister in mind. At least, not for him anyways.

He had neglected to mention one thing when he had told Iris about the scar on his arm. What hurt much worse than that little mark was what Vortex had told him after he had complained about the situation: you got off easy for this, you know. I gave you a life here; I gave you a home. You really should be more grateful.

It made him fearful of accepting help from anyone else. He was already reluctant to seek out help in the first place; it made him feel pathetic and needy and he hated doing it, even when he knew deep down he really needed it like when Professor Mikotoba had taken him in. But compounded with Vortex’s constant use and manipulation of him made him terrified of it. As awful as Naruhodou’s final case here had been, he was happy it had happened. After all, if it hadn’t, who knows what he’d be doing right now? He’d probably still be Vortex’s pathetic pawn, who had no choice but to do whatever he told him – even kill – just so he had the chance to live here.

Either way, the whole mess had taught him something important: the only people who “helped” him only planned on throwing him out later. While he doubted sweet little Iris was capable of such treachery, he didn’t trust Holmes in slightest. He wished he could just be honest about his intentions and be rude up front like Van Zieks. Honestly, he preferred blatant disdain because at least that meant it wasn’t being saved for later.

But Asougi couldn’t stay in his room forever. He had work the next day and he also wasn’t keen on going to bed hungry so later that night, when he assumed that Iris and Holmes would be asleep, he snuck downstairs to get himself a light snack.

Of course, as usual, his assumptions were wrong. Holmes was still awake and was sitting on his armchair, reading a novel. When Asougi saw him he had half a mind to give up, go back upstairs and just go to sleep, but his foot made the stairs creak and it quickly got Holmes’s attention.

“Good evening, Mr. Asougi.” Holmes said with a smile. “What brings you down here at this time of night?”

“Nothing.” He said quickly. Holmes didn’t buy it.

“If you’re hungry there’s some leftovers in the kitchen.”

Asougi didn’t trust this for a second. He had half a mind to ask if it was poisoned but held his tongue, not wanting to anger him.

Whatever. He might as well get this over with.

Asougi finally walked over to Holmes, and asked,

“How much is rent and when do you want it?”

“Pardon?”

“How much is rent and when do you want it?” He repeated.

“Oh.” Honestly, he looked surprised by the question. “Don’t worry about that. You’re a guest.”

That was what Asougi feared. He wanted to pay for his stay here, that way he knew he didn’t owe anything. He didn’t want to be in a situation where he owed something again. He hated feeling like he was indebted and he feared what Holmes would want out of him as a substitute for payment.

“I insist,” he said, “how much is rent?”

“And I insist,” Holmes said with the same tone, “that it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

That just served to irritate Asougi further. Why was he being like this? What could his motive possibly be? He had to do something to make up for it preemptively. He didn’t want to be stuck in a situation like Vortex’s again.

“Please,” Asougi continued, “I don’t want to be indebted to you.”

“And you won’t be. I didn’t make Miss Susato or Mr. Naurhodou pay me while they were here. Why wouldn’t I do the same for you?”

“That’s different. Professor Mikotoba is your partner. He’s your family. Of course you’d treat his daughter as such. I’m not family. There’s no reason for you to do the same for me, and I don’t want to be a problem.”

Holmes looked perplexed for a moment. That just made Asougi all the more anxious.

“I promise I’ll take care of my own meals and things, too. I won’t get in your or Miss Watson’s way. As soon as you tell me what I need to pay, I promise you’ll hardly even notice I’m here.”

Holmes looked troubled now. Finally, he said,

“You’re free to do whatever makes you most comfortable, but know we don’t mind your presence. And if you’re that insistent on paying me back, then how about this: Mr. Asougi, would you be willing to teach me Japanese?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been meaning to learn Japanese; I’ve just never gotten around to it. I would like to visit Yuujin in his home one of these days, but I don’t want to be stuck floundering when I do. Besides… I always did feel a bit guilty that he, his daughter and Mr. Naruhodou worked so hard to know English and I never returned the favor. Teach me some Japanese and that will be your rent.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

“I’m not the best speaker, you know. Naruhodou can vouch for how badly I used to stumble over my words.”

“Well, you seem fine now. I’ve seen you in court, you know.”

“…I guess.”

“Either way, I trust your abilities. So, what do you say?”

Asougi still didn’t trust this, not from a mile away… but if Holmes considered this alone to be compensation, then he wasn’t about to argue further. At current time, he didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives. Besides, Holmes’s words struck something in him. Trust… when was the last time anyone had trusted him? He couldn’t deny it was kind of nice to hear it. Finally, he reached out and shook his hand.

“I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Asougi. And because I didn’t get the chance to say it earlier: welcome home.”

Asougi only nodded, not sure how to respond to it. Home… he doubted this place would ever be such a thing for him, considering he couldn’t even feel at home when Mikotoba had raised him. But he appreciated the offer, and it would have to do.

For now, at least.

As the days turned to weeks then eventually a month and a half, Asougi was surprised to find that nothing had gone horribly wrong with his new living arrangements yet. Honestly, the only bad thing about living here was Holmes chose to practice the violin at random hours of the night. But considering how awful Vortex had been to him that was nothing.

Perhaps that was because Asougi had kept true to his word; he mostly kept to himself, choosing to prepare and eat meals alone rather than trouble Holmes and Iris with his presence. Along with that, as promised, he helped Holmes study Japanese. He already seemed to have mostly memorized the hiragana and katakana alphabets and knew a couple of phrases in Japanese, and at this point in time his vocabulary was getting better. He was getting there; and while he got fed up with himself at times he seemed really determined to learn. Asougi could understand; he was probably eager to see the others again and maybe even impress them, especially Yuujin.

However, despite Asougi’s determination to make his presence as small as possible, Holmes and Iris seemed to be trying their hardest to interact with him. Holmes often invited him to join them at mealtimes and Iris often asked him to run errands with her or simply go on a walk together. He couldn’t understand why they would do that. It would be awkward to eat and spend time with him; he wasn’t family, nor really a friend, and he simply wasn’t that likable. He kept turning him down under the excuse that he was extremely picky and would rather cook for himself; not wanting to waste anything they made.

Iris, on the other hand, he had a harder time turning down. Unlike Holmes, Asougi didn’t worry she might secretly be up to something. That, and he couldn’t bring himself to be rude or dismissive towards a child. Besides, her constant invitations to hang out were probably because she was lonely. He could get that; he remembered being lonely a lot when he was about her age; especially when his dad died and his mom was always busy with work before falling ill. She must have been incredibly lonely now that Susato and Naruhodou were gone after months of keeping her company. If she wanted him to be their replacement, he wasn’t going to tell her no. He’d just wait until she inevitably got tired of him. Knowing what he was like, it probably wouldn’t take long. After all, it had only taken a week or so of Naruhodou reuniting with him for him to grow sick of him.

Today, he had the day off. A pipe burst and the high prosecutor’s office had gotten flooded so he couldn’t come in to work. Thankfully, Asougi and Van Zieks had been in between cases so it wasn’t the end of the world for them to take a couple days off. Iris had asked him if he would be willing to lend her a hand on an invention she was working on. It was a large, strange looking bicycle, and with all of the metal parts she was working with she could use a little help. He of course agreed, not wanting to be rude to her.

“Thanks for helping me with this, Kazumie.” Iris said. “Honestly, I thought you were gonna say no.”

“Now why would I do that? This definitely beats sulking in my room all day.” He replied.

“Yeah, but… I kinda figured you didn’t like spending time with me.”

“Oh… that’s not true. I’m just usually busy with work, is all.”

She stuck her hand out, and he handed her a wrench.

“So, what are we working on, anyways?” He asked.

“A bicycle with a steam-powered engine.” She said it so simply, as though it should be obvious. Asougi almost felt like an idiot for having to ask:

“And uh… that is?”

“You know how modern ships are powered by steam? I wanted to make a bicycle that would run on the same thing. It’d be less work and it’d get you places faster.”

“Well… all right then.” He’d ask her to explain it further but figured it’d be beyond him and didn’t want to come off as an idiot. To him, it just looked like a bicycle but it was held up on a pedestal, its wheels a few inches above the ground, as she worked on a complicated box that was going to be attached to it. But he supposed it was a work in progress and he was sure Iris knew what she was doing.

“Say, Kazumie?”

“Yes?”

“How come you don’t eat with us? I’d be happy to cook for you, y’know.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You wouldn’t be. I like cooking.”

“Yeah, well… I’m really picky. It’s not worth the trouble.”

“You can’t be that bad.”

“I refuse to eat chicken.”

“…Huh. Well, that is odd. But I can work around it.” She smiled. “Well, what’s your favourite food then?”

“Miss Watson…”

“Come on, Kazumie, I insist!”

“Well… it’s gyuunabe.”

“What’s that? I don’t think Susie ever made it while she was here.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I don’t think you can find everything to make it here.”

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s a big, beef hotpot. It’s got shirataki and sometimes udon noodles in it, with vegetables like cabbage and carrots and mushrooms with tofu, all simmered together in sweet soy sauce and rice wine.”

“That sounds really yummy.”

“It is.” He sighed, placing his hand against his stomach. “I could really go for some right now.”

“Maybe I could make it for you sometime?”

“You don’t have to do that. Like I said, it’d be near impossible to find the ingredients here.”

“Well, maybe I could ask Susie to send some over?”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you, or her.”

“Still… I can imagine how much you must miss the food from home.”

“Yeah…” He trailed off. She had a point, though he’d never say it out loud. He missed the food from back home, and it wasn’t even entirely because he was picky. Okay, part of it was because he was picky. He found most British food to be disgusting and when it wasn’t disgusting, it was bland and he just simply tolerated it. He missed the cold soba bentos he used to have at lunch and favored them greatly over cold sandwiches filled with pickles and dripping with mayonnaise. He missed the hotpots and stews and noodle bowls he’d have for dinner, which were far superior to unseasoned, overcooked meats and mushy vegetables. Even down to simple things like tea and dessert he’d miss the tastes of home; teacakes and royal English breakfast just didn’t do it for him like manju and matcha did.

But… now that he thought about it, perhaps it wasn’t just the foods he missed. Perhaps it was the people he ate them with. He missed making bentos with Susato when she was growing up, teaching her how to cut up the apples and sausages in the shape of little octopi or rabbits. He missed eating dinner with his parents, spending the time talking with one another about how their days had gone and what they’d be doing tomorrow. And he missed those few times after good grades on exams where he’d let himself be selfish and let Naruhodou treat him to sweets, and he’d miss chastising his dear friend over how much sugar he drowned his tea in.

Eating was lonely now, and he knew that was partially his fault. After all, Holmes and Iris did offer. As did Van Zieks, but Asougi could tell on that one it was because he felt obligated and was hoping for a no. But he felt like he had to turn them all down. It was just… painful to eat with these people, most of whom he hardly knew, most of whom he knew would hate him sooner or later, some of whom he figured already did. It wasn’t like it was back home. And he was beginning to worry that back home would never be the same, either. After all, his friends had left so quickly… they didn’t even want to stop and take a minute for lunch or something, spend the time reminiscing… Eating alone was for the best, even if it made it forgettable and he often wound up skipping meals because of it. He was beginning to realize that it was no coincidence his slacks were beginning to grow a bit baggy.

“Well, the offer’s still out there.” Iris continued. “Susie did show me how to cook a little when she was staying here. She showed me all sorts of dishes from Japan, and even offered to send some things over once she got home.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

The two of them were quiet for a moment as Iris needed to focus on what she was doing. She had Asougi hold up the box – er, engine, apparently, as she attached it to some wiring on the bicycle. Once she seemed satisfied with her job and made sure it was secure, she flipped a switch on its side, causing it to emit a whirring noise. From where he stood, Asougi could already feel it heating up.

“Is that dangerous?” Asougi asked nervously.

“It can be.” She replied. “Steam power requires lots of heat. It could be a problem, hence why I’m testing it now instead of just giving it to Papa and letting him catch his slacks on fire.”

She spoke that with such a confidence that it lead Asougi to believe it had happened before. That just made him all the more nervous.

“Miss Watson – ”

“Trial and error is all part of the scientific process. I’ve had many failures before; I promise it’ll be okay.”

“Well… if you insist…”

The engine continued to heat up and whirr. Iris stepped forward and began moving the pedal with her hand and, as expected, the device began to work. The wheels began to move on their own, with increasing speed.

“Well, what do you know.” Asougi said. “Honestly, I have no idea how you can just… come up with things like this.”

“Awww, thanks, Kazumie.” She turned around and beamed at him. “But honestly, it’s not that noble. I just want to create things that will make life just a little easier, and - ”

However, as she spoke Asougi noticed that the engine behind her was growing louder and the metal was beginning to turn red from the heat. It began to shake violently and Asougi quickly felt his stomach drop.

“Iris!”

He quickly grabbed ahold of Iris and pulled her close to him before ducking down, hoping to hide her away from the explosion. He felt a quick wave of heat pour over him but thankfully he was far enough away that it didn’t manage to scald him. He felt some metal crash against his back – something he was sure was going to leave bruises later – but he had dealt with worse before and paid them little mind. Instead, his attention was on Iris, who he had heard scream and was trembling in his arms. He backed away, once he was certain the coast was clear, and asked,

“Iris, are you all right?”

She was silent for a moment, staring past him with wide eyes at her ruined invention. For a moment she was silent, her expression unreadable, until he noticed that she began to tremble, tear up, and then finally weep.

“I-iris, hey, it’s okay…” He said awkwardly. “Like you said, it’s all trial and error, right? These things happen, it’ll be okay…”

He trailed off when Iris quietly shook her head and lifted her arm, where a fresh scar ran across it. Her arm must have been exposed when they had ducked away, and some of the metal must have hit it. And while it wasn’t particularly deep, it clearly hurt and upset her to the point of tears. It was easy to forget that despite all her wonderful accomplishments and her staggering genius, she was still a little kid. And things like that tended to hurt more with youth. 

It reminded him of Susato, honestly. When he was living with her, he remembered constantly being floored by how mature and grown up she seemed to be, even at a young age. But at the end of the day, she was still a kid. And when she tripped and scraped up her knee she’d still weep at it too. Asougi always hated to see Susato cry, and watching Iris do the same hurt his heart. He still felt bad for letting himself be in Iris’s way when he doubted she wanted that, but… he had to do something here.

“Here,” he grabbed her hands, helping her up to her feet. “Let’s get that cleaned up, okay?”

Iris just nodded and followed him. Even as they began to walk, she still didn’t let go of his hand. He decided to say nothing about it for now, leading her towards the kitchen. He had her wash her arm at the sink while he rummaged through the pantries for bandages. He pulled up a chair so he was sitting in front of her, and grabbed ahold of her arm.

“Let me know if it hurts.” He said. She just nodded, and he began to gently bandage up the injury. The silence was heavy, and it made Asougi feel uncomfortable. Iris was usually so cheerful and chatty; it felt wrong for her to be so quiet like this. He needed to do something, to bring that smile back to her face.

“Say, Iris,” he said, “what’s your favorite treat?”

“Treat?”

“Yeah… like your favorite dessert.”

“Oh, I dunno… I like cupcakes.”

“I’ve never had them before. Are they good?”

“Oh, I love them. I like the vanilla ones best.”

“Well… are they easy to make?”

“I’d say so.”

“Can you teach me, then? We should make some together.”

“Really? You don’t strike me as someone with a sweet tooth, Kazumie.”

“Normally I’m not, but I don’t mind it every once in awhile. Besides, you look like you could use something sweet. I used to treat Judicial Assistant Mikotoba-san to something sweet whenever something upset her as a kid.”

“…Who?”

“Er… that’s what I call Susato.”

“Why?”

“I just… I don’t know. I want to be respectful.”

“I think it’s weird.”

“I guess. But anyways, let’s make something together.”

“But the mess – ”

“Can be picked up later, I think. Your father has no right to judge considering that mess he calls a desk.”

“I guess so.”

“There we are.” He finally finished fixing up her arm and let go of it. “Any better?”

“Much better.” She moved her arm around for a second, seemingly testing it out, then said: “Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He then stood up, and rolled up his sleeves. “Now let’s make some cupcakes, shall we?”

“Okay!” She hopped off her seat and followed him towards the pantries again. “Say, Kazumie?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been calling me Iris!”

“...Oh. Have I?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I got so worried that it slipped my mind.”

“Well, you should keep calling me that.” She finally smiled at him. “It makes me happy.”

And just like with Susato, seeing this sweet young kid go from tears to a bright smile, all at something he did, managed to lift his spirits as well.

“Then I’d love to, Miss W… I mean, Iris.”

She just laughed at him and tossed him a frilly pink apron so they could get started.

About a month after Asougi started calling Iris by her first name, he had gone out late at night to get supplies for her. She seemingly had given up on the engine-powered bicycle and was working on something new. She asked him if he’d be willing to run out and buy her some copper wiring and aluminum while she was making dinner. Of course he was more than willing to do so, and on his way back he also picked up some cookies for them to share later. While he still didn’t eat meals with her or Holmes, still not wanting to trouble them, he did enjoy spending time with Iris while she worked on an invention or typed away at her manuscript, and he was happy to provide her with treats. He supposed it was a habit of his that died hard – he remembered he enjoyed treating Susato to sweets back when he was living with her, even if he had no reason to do so. He had always wanted to have a sibling, and while he would never admit that out loud to her, he sincerely hoped he had made her happy back then.

Too bad she probably hated him now.

And if it only took one slip up, one instance of him being vulnerable, of him showing his emotions around her for her to hate him. So, he wondered, how long would it be until Iris hated him too? It was foolish of him to believe that that might not happen. He was unlikable; too emotional and stupid and rash for his own or anyone else’s good. Surely, Iris would come to realize that. Soon enough these happy days of Holmes’s hospitality and Iris’s sweetness would come to an end. Things like that – things like good friends, like family, like a home, - he knew better than anyone how fleeting they were, and how they always, always without fail came to an abrupt end. Usually because of something he did.

So logically, how much longer would this last? How much longer until Holmes grew sick of him or he did something to upset Iris and he ruined yet another relationship with someone who dared to get close to him? He had come to terms with the fact that it would inevitably happen again, but having to wait for it was killing him.

His whirlwind of negative thoughts came to a quick and abrupt end when he felt something cool and metal press against the back of his head. He immediately froze at the sensation, recognizing the feeling from his time spent as the Masked Disciple.

“Turn around.” A voice behind him said quietly. Asougi didn’t recognize it. “Slowly.”

Asougi did as told. Before him stood a middle-aged English man he did not know. He was pointing a pistol at Asougi’s forehead. His deep beige coat had a thin layer of snowflakes on in and they dusted his shoulders and head as well – had he been waiting for him? If that was the case, it didn’t come as much of a surprise. The mobs that used to attack him and Van Zieks would do the same, often waiting a block or two away from the High Prosecutor’s Office at night. Honestly, the most surprising thing here was that he was alone.

“You’re not armed.” The man said simply. It was true – Asougi hadn’t kept the sword Vortex had given him on his person since Naruhodou left. He had given Naruhodou Karuma as an attempt of proving himself – he was giving it away to quell temptation from his sullied heart. He had been so close to taking Gregson’s life with it, and he didn’t want to do something like that ever again. So he had ditched his English sword too and chose to walk the streets unarmed – ultimately deciding that he’d rather be killed than dare dirty himself further. He knew deep down that Naruhodou would feel the same.

“Why would I be?” Asougi finally responded.

“How cocky. You really think that you’re invincible, don’t you?”

“Not really.”

“You orientals disgust me. You really think you can just invade our government like this and walk away from it clean, don’t you?”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. Van Zieks had warned him that he might have to deal with radicals like this. There were plenty of people in London who weren’t too keen on two Japanese men essentially overthrowing the judicial system. Based on the curtness of his tone, Asougi got the feeling that Van Zieks wasn’t too happy about that either, but ultimately knew it was what had to happen. Honestly, Asougi was just shocked he hadn’t been attacked before now. But at the very least he was glad Naruhodou and Susato had left in time to avoid it.

“Not really.” Asougi said again.

“Stop being so damn coy!”

“Okay.” Asougi replied flatly. Based on the way the man’s grip on the gun had tightened, it seemed that had only served to anger him further. “What do you want, then?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to kill you.”

Asougi didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure why but the idea of being killed didn’t strike any fear into his heart. Honestly, the idea brought him a strange sense of… relief. If he were to die, that’d be it. There would be nothing left for him to worry about. If he died, he couldn’t do anything to hurt anyone anymore. He wouldn’t be able to further disappoint Naruhodou or the Mikotobas. He wouldn’t be able to inevitably make Holmes and Iris hate him. He wouldn’t have to spend each and every day hating himself, waiting for his next inevitable screw up. And if he died, that meant he could finally see his parents again, and apologize to them properly for being such a disgrace.

“Well, aren’t you going to beg for your life? Aren’t you going to do something?”

“No, I’m not one to beg.” Asougi replied calmly. “And what can I do? I run, you shoot me. I try to fight, you shoot me. Even I know a fight I can’t win.”

“You should have realized that before you decided to set foot on our land.”

“Yeah,” Asougi sighed, thinking about just how quickly his life spiraled out of control the moment he agreed to come here, “maybe I should have.”

There was silence for a moment. It seemed that the man was expecting Asougi to do something, but he didn’t. He just stood there, still awkwardly holding onto his groceries.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” He asked, cocking the gun. “Before I end your miserable life?”

“No… er, wait. Yes, actually.” He slowly put the bag of groceries down, and said, “can you leave this bag out front of the Old Bailey, and write a note on it that says it’s for Iris? She’s waiting on me to bring this home to her, and clearly I won’t be able to do that.”

“…That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“Yes, that’s it. I’m alone here. Who would I cry out to?” He sighed and folded his arms. “Just get it over with. Or do you plan on waiting until the sun comes up?”

Though he didn’t lower his arm, the man looked hesitant now. It was clear he had expected Asougi to be terrified, or desperate, or angry… and honestly, Asougi had figured if he wound up in this situation again he would be. But he felt nothing. There was nothing left for him to fight for at this point, so why should it matter if he lived or died? His mission was over; the life long dream he had came to an end, and he hadn’t even been the one to see it through. He had no friends left; he hadn’t had a family in a long time, there wasn’t anyone left who would mourn for him if he died… so dying here mattered very little to him. All it meant was that Holmes and Iris would have to rid the attic of his belongings, and that would be that. All it meant was that Naruhodou and the Mikotobas would receive a rather dismal letter, and that would be that. Minor things in the long run; like his life, he was sure they would be forgotten about quickly.

The only thing he regretted was dying here. It was rather pathetic to die like this; murdered in the streets of London by a man he did not know while grabbing groceries. But he supposed it was only fitting. He himself was a pathetic person, who had lived a pathetic life. If anyone deserved to die this way, it was him. He was sure his father was laughing at him now wherever he was; his son being such a disgrace that even in death he couldn’t stop being pathetic. Asougi shut his eyes, and waited for the inevitable.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, is there a problem here?”

His death was interrupted by an all too familiar voice. Asougi opened his eyes and found Sherlock Holmes approaching the two of them. He looked as calm as ever, a coy smile on his face, but he approached them slowly. It seemed even he grasped the danger of the situation.

“Who the hell are you?” The gunman exclaimed.

“Just a man heading home for the night.” Holmes replied.

“Yeah? Well get lost already.”

“….Might I ask what you’re doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m killing a pest.”

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

“I think I do.”

“Pardon me for asking, but you have a wife and children, don’t you?”

“How’d you know that?”

“You have a wedding band on your left hand. As for the children, that was just an assumption based on your age, but it seems I’m right.”

“What’s your point?”

“Think about what you’re doing. You kill this man, you’re going to go to jail. And killing an innocent, defenseless man on his way home? How pathetic. I’m sure your family is going to be so ashamed of you.”

“They won’t be. Killing him would do us all a damn favor. I’ll be a hero. And they’ll think so, too.”

“That so. Well then…” Holmes moved forward once again, stepping in front of Asougi so the pistol was pointed at him instead. “Will they still think you’re a hero when you kill a British man, too?”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Holmes stepped forward so the barrel of the gun was pressed directly against his chest.

“You’re seriously going to risk your life? All for this stupid oriental?!”

“I will do whatever it takes to protect him.” Holmes said firmly. “And if that results in my life ending, then so be it. But I promise you – you’re not going to harm a single hair on his head without going through me first.”

There was silence for a moment. Holmes remained ever still, looking utterly unfazed by the situation before him. Asougi’s heart was pounding; just a moment ago he had been resigned to the idea of losing his life. But if Holmes were to lose his life in his place, he would never be able to forgive himself. He wanted to do something to get Holmes to move away, to persuade him that his life wasn’t worth it, but he was scared silent, too afraid of accidentally getting the man to fire.

After some hesitant deliberation the man finally sighed and lowered his gun.

“You win.”

“There we are.” Holmes said. “Now was that so hard?”

Holmes beamed at the man then, in one swift movement, tore the pistol from his hand and held it out of his reach.

“If I ever see you threatening Kazuma again, I assure you I won’t be so kind. Now get out of my sight.”

The man looked angry, but it was clear that he knew he had lost. He scoffed and turned around, quickly disappearing into the night. As soon as he was out of sight, Holmes turned around and finally gazed at Asougi, looking tremendously worried.

“Are you all right?” He demanded. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Uh…” Asougi gulped, trying to find his voice again. Honestly he was dumbfounded by the whole ordeal, and it took him a moment to realize what he had been asked. “No, I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” He replied. “Now let’s head home, then. I’m sure Iris must be so worried about us.” He stooped down to pick up Asougi’s groceries and began to walk towards home. When Asougi didn’t follow he stopped, glancing back at him anxiously. “Are you coming?”

“Y-yeah, sorry.” He caught up with him and the two of them walked side by side in silence. Holmes kept glancing at him every once in awhile as they went. He seemed nervous, but Asougi supposed anyone who had had a gun pointed at him would be. But still, Holmes’s uncharacteristic anxiety was making him uneasy, so he decided he needed to say something.

“You know my first name?” Asougi asked abruptly.

“Of course I do.” Holmes replied. “Miss Susato used to talk about you a lot. She would always refer to you as such.”

“I see.” He bitterly wondered if Susato would still talk about him anymore. He doubted she did, likely wanting to forget about him as soon as possible. But he decided to keep these negative thoughts to himself for now. “Well, why did you call me that?”

“Mr. Asougi,” Holmes asked, “may I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“Why didn’t you fight back?”

“I couldn’t. He had a gun. He would’ve just shot me quicker had I done something.”

“Okay, why don’t you carry your sword with you anymore? I know you gave your katana to Mr. Naruhodou, but you still have another sword.”

“I know.”

“Well, why don’t you bring it with you? You really ought to have something to protect yourself! What if something like this were to happen again?”

“Well,” Asougi shrugged, “I guess I’d just die then.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I’m not going to carry that sword around. I promised Naruhodou I would give up all my weapons so I could never give in to temptation and hurt someone again. If that results in me dying, then so be it.”

“I’m sure Mr. Naruhodou would prefer you protect yourself.”

“I’m sure Naruhodou would prefer if I dropped dead.”

“What?” Holmes asked.

Asougi didn’t notice the horror in his voice and kept talking.

“Oh, don’t beat around the bush. You saw how obnoxious I was being during Naruhodou’s last trial here. And after it was over? He and Judicial Assistant Mikotoba-san were prepared to leave without a single word to me. If I hadn’t caught up to them at the pier, they wouldn’t have said goodbye. I think it’s safe to say they don’t care for me much anymore. And I can’t blame them.”

“Mr. Asougi – ”

“I mean,” Asougi continued, his bitter, negative thoughts taking over him, “if I died, it wouldn’t really matter. It would just mean I couldn’t upset anyone anymore. It’s not like I have a family waiting for me at home. No one would miss me if I were gone. Naruhodou and the Mikotobas already said their goodbyes. If I were to just never return home, they probably wouldn’t notice. I would just become an awful memory, one they’d be happy to forget.”

He kept going, words spilling out of his mouth without him really thinking about it. He had been so close to death, so accepting of it, that he hadn’t really had time to process what he had been thinking, what he had been feeling. He had been so ready for it… and now he just felt confused. …And frustrated. Why was he so frustrated? Perhaps it was because death was a simple answer to his problems. And now that he had been denied it, he was frustrated. Frustrated that he had to live another day to be a disappointment. Frustrated that he had to keep going and living with all the things he had done wrong. Frustrated that Holmes had put his life in danger for his sake when he knew he didn’t deserve it. God, what was his problem? Why did he keep causing trouble for all the people in his life? Why was he still alive when he didn’t deserve to be?

“It’d benefit you and Iris, too. You could clear out the attic and it’d be like I was never there. You two could return to your normal lives. Wouldn’t it be a relief? You wouldn’t have to bother with me anymore. Honestly, the only downside to this is you’d have to write what I imagine is a pretty awkward letter to Professor Mikotoba but aside from that it would be over and you’d all get to move on quickly and – ”

“Kazuma!!” Holmes exclaimed. The usage of Asougi’s seldom spoken first name always managed to catch his attention and he immediately quieted. “With all due respect, stop talking for a moment, will you?”

Normally, Asougi would have been stubborn and kept speaking out of spite but the sternness of Holmes’ tone forced him to hold his tongue.

“Do you really think your life is so worthless? Do you honestly think, that were you to die, none of us would care? We’d all forget about you in an instant, just like that?”

Asougi hesitated. Honestly, he didn’t know. He thought to say yes, but he got the feeling the question was rhetorical.

“Well, I can assure you that Mr. Naruhodou and Miss Susato would be devastated. I was there with them that day you ‘died’, and they were beside themselves with grief. Even after months passed, they still mourned you. I recall Miss Susato talking sadly about you to Iris and me multiple times. And there were several occasions in which Mr. Naruhodou would excuse himself to his room, and I could hear him crying. According to Iris, he’d be clinging to your sword while he did so. Clearly you’ve left an impact on their hearts.”

Asougi was taken aback for a moment. Could he have really left such a mark on their hearts? Months after his supposed death, were they truly reminiscing and mourning over him? He couldn’t imagine them doing such a thing over him. He wasn’t worth it, especially not now.

“Well… that was then. And this is now.” Asougi finally said. “That’s… very sweet of you to tell me all this, but the fact of the matter remains that I didn’t die back then, did I? I continued to live, giving myself plenty of time to disappoint them. Which I did. If I were to die now, what makes you think they’d act the same? They have no interest in reconnecting with me. If I were to die, I don’t think they’d care so much.”

“Hmm.” Honestly, Holmes looked troubled at that. “You know what? I can’t say I understand why they all left so quickly. Even I was a little wounded at their sudden departure. I had hoped that my dear Yuujin would have liked to stay and catch up with me after a decade apart but… I suppose not. And I know Iris would have loved to keep her new siblings around too. I wish I could tell you for certain why they left so quickly, but I can’t. However, I can tell you this: Iris and I care about you very much. And we would both be devastated if anything were to happen to you. Iris has grown very attached to you, you know. She even refers to you as her brother when you’re not around. And I care for you, too. I have for a long while now, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you. So please, never again say that your life is worthless. I can promise you that it’s not.”

He placed his hand on Asougi’s shoulder in a warm, fatherly manner. Asougi felt embarrassed, and chose to look at the ground instead. He couldn’t help it; he knew Holmes was just saying all of this to be kind, but Asougi still felt foolish. He had done it again – getting too emotional for his own good and said things he knew would upset others, even if he believed it. He was acting bratty towards a man who had just saved his life, and he felt ashamed. He felt like a child being scolded, so finally, he said:

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Holmes replied. “It’s all right, really. I’ve had my own fair share of depressive slumps. You’ll be okay.”

“Sure.” Asougi replied.

“Now, I’m sure Iris is worried sick waiting for us.” He began to walk again, and Asougi followed quietly behind him, idly rubbing at the warmth on his shoulder. He appreciated Holmes’s kindness, and it did seem sincere. Yet Asougi still couldn’t help but wonder the intention behind it.

「Let’s go home.」 Holmes said abruptly, in Japanese to boot. It caught Asougi by surprise, and he just stared at him. “I said it right, didn’t I?”

“Oh.” Right. The Japanese lessons. Of course. Honestly, Asougi had figured that Holmes wasn’t paying that much attention to him during them. “Yeah, that’s right. Your pronunciation could use some work, though.”

“I’ll try my best, Professor.”

Asougi couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

They continued to walk, and after a few moments of silence, Asougi finally realized there was something he really should be telling Holmes.

「Thank you for saving me.」 Asougi said.

“Oh?” Holmes thought for a moment. “I recognized thank you. That’s about it, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out the rest soon enough. You’re getting better each day.”

“Well, in any case…” Sherlock smiled and gave Asougi a pat on the shoulder.

「You’re welcome.」

At the beginning of springtime, a horrible cold made its way across England.

Holmes got it first, though he had gotten over it in a matter of days. He told Iris and Asougi that Yuujin had once told him an old Japanese saying that idiots can’t catch colds, and that would explain his speedy recovery. Asougi just rolled his eyes at him at that, but honestly he was thankful he had gotten better so quickly.

Iris got it next, and the poor thing was bedridden for days. Holmes was beside himself with worry, as was Asougi. He had had to watch his mother die of a horrible illness, and the thought of Iris succumbing to the same thing made his blood run cold. He made sure to tend to Iris’s every need, as did Holmes, and only left her bedside when she finally insisted that he get some rest. Thankfully, she was back to her peppy, cheerful self by the end of the week.

Asougi caught it last, though unlike Holmes and Iris who took time off and spent their illnesses resting, he tried his damn hardest to simply ignore it. He still didn’t allow himself to eat with them, thinking he was a burden, so why would he trouble them with his being sick? He could take care of himself and he was dead set on not bothering them. So each day, he continued his usual routine. He got up early, he ate by himself, he went to work and went home. The only difference was that he tried to avoid Iris now instead of spending his evenings helping her with inventions or playing games with her. He knew she had already been sick but he certainly didn’t want her to catch something again, so he kept his distance.

However, the days soon turned into a week. Then a week and a half, and he still wasn’t feeling any better. If anything, he just felt worse and worse. His cough still hadn’t gone away, his chest hurt every time he breathed, and his fever still hadn’t broken. It didn’t help that when paired with his constant fatigue, he found his work and daily routine beginning to suffer.

Even though he had gotten his memories back, he was still pretty forgetful from day to day. Now that he was constantly feverish, it had only gotten worse. One morning, he had gotten lost in the high prosecutor’s office and had waited until Van Zieks sought him out to find his way back to their office. One evening, when Iris asked him if he was okay, he accidentally referred to her as Judicial Assistant Mikotoba-san when assuring her he was all right. There had been a few occasions where after leaving Holmes’s flat or the old Bailey, for a moment he had felt confused and wondered why he wasn’t still in Japan.

Despite all that, he figured he’d be okay. This was just this pesky cold messing with his already feeble mind. He just needed to hurry up and get over it. It would have to happen sooner or later, right?

Two weeks after he had initially fallen ill was the braking point.

While at work, Van Zieks had asked Asougi to mail something for him. While on his way to the mailroom, Asougi felt awful. He was struggling to breathe and he was just so exhausted and feverish. All he could think about on his way there was how horrible he felt and while descending down a flight of stairs his exhaustion finally overwhelmed him and he collapsed, bashing his head against a railing.

When Asougi woke up, he had no idea where he was.

He was laying in a soft bed with white sheets. There were other beds in the room too, leading him to believe he were in a hospital or some kind of clinic. Made sense; he felt awful. His head was pounding and he was covered in sweat. What confused him more so was the architecture of the place. Oil paintings on the wall, chandeliers hung up above him, hardwood floors and walls painted white. This… wasn’t Japan. Where was he? How did he get here?

“If you’re so sick you should stay home.” A voice said, in English for some reason. A man was sitting beside him; he was a tall, white man with lavender hair and a nasty scar running across the center of his face. He was glaring down at Asougi, and for some reason the look of disappointment was a familiar one. He got the feeling he knew him from somewhere but was simply too delirious to remember where.

「Where am I?」 Asougi asked. English had always been a language Asougi found easier to read and write and listen to than speak himself, due to his difficulties with speaking. He was too tired to translate his words back into English, let alone say them correctly and just had to hope that the man would understand him.

“Speak English.” The man replied curtly. “You know I don’t understand your primitive language.”

「Fuck off.」 Asougi replied.

“Listen. I contacted Holmes and he’ll be here to get you soon. Do you understand me?” He over enunciated that last sentence in a slow, condescending manner.

「I understand you.」 Asougi replied, glaring daggers at him.

The man sighed.

“Look,” he said, “if you’re going to keep talking like that, I’m not going to keep you company. I have better things to do with my time. Go home and get some rest. We don’t need you getting everyone sick. Don’t come back until you’re better, you hear me?” He stood up and began to head out. He muttered something beneath his breath as he left, though Asougi wasn’t sure if he intended on him hearing it or not: “though if this killed you, I wouldn’t complain either.”

Asougi didn’t say anything else, not wanting to waste his words on this man who seemed to hold so much disdain for him. Asougi still didn’t know where he was or who he had even been talking to, but one thing was for certain: wherever he was, he clearly wasn’t wanted. He had no idea what would happen to him should he stay here so, as soon as he figured the man had gone away, he slipped out of the bed and attempted to find his way out. He was tired, and feverish, and his breath was hoarse and there was only one thing he needed.

He needed to go home.

It seemed he had been in an infirmary because when he stepped out of the room, he found himself in a large, busy building, full of people he didn’t recognize going to and fro about their business. If Asougi were to guess, he would assume he was in some kind of office building, or maybe a government facility of some kind. Either way, he didn’t recognize the place, nor any of the people who roamed the halls. He continued onward until he finally found the front entrance.

When he stepped outside onto the street, he was even more confused. If he had any doubts before, they were long gone now: he definitely wasn’t in Japan. It was foggy and dreary; it looked as though it were going to rain soon and he could smell smog. The buildings here were taller and Victorian in fashion, and fancy English typography lined the shop windows. Men in three-piece suits and women in flowing gowns walked the streets around him. None of them looked like him, and none of them looked at him, either. He was at a complete and utter loss for where he was and how he got here.

He needed to go home.

He quickly began walking. He didn’t know what direction he was going but surely something would look familiar sooner or later, right? However, as he got further and further away from the office building, there was still nothing that he recognized. It was just more and more of the confusing, unfamiliar same. More buildings with English signage. More British ladies in pretty gowns. More English men in top hats. Not a single soul who glanced at him when he passed by. If anything, it seemed like many of them were trying their hardest not to look at this disheveled, sick Japanese boy wandering the street.

He needed to go home, but he was starting to worry that perhaps he didn’t even know where that was anymore.

He had no idea how long he had been wandering when finally he retired to a park bench, too exhausted to keep going. He was completely and utterly lost. He felt like an alien, isolated and trapped on a planet he did not know. Nothing here was familiar. No one here looked like him. No one here would even look at him. What he would give for a familiar face, a familiar voice – something that would remind him of home.

Did he even have a home anymore?

He wasn’t sure. He felt like he didn’t but he was too tired to remember. Perhaps this whole ordeal was just some horrible, confusing fever dream. Maybe when he woke up he’d be at his home in Shikoku, with a kind mother who would scold him for playing outside in the rain when he was feeling so sick and a loving father who had just prepared him some warm soup to make him feel better and for the first time in a long he’d feel safe and loved and like he was finally home. He wanted that more than anything in the world. He’d give anything to feel like he had a family again and that he was home again and hoped now that if he shut his eyes, when he opened them next he would be someplace familiar.

“Kazuma!”

Asougi’s eyes shot open at the sound of his name, spoken by a familiar voice. He noticed a man approaching him, one he knew well – his father, looking desperately worried. Once their eyes met, his father rushed over to him.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! Why did you – ”

Asougi used what little strength he had to get up and embrace him. He held him close, resting his head upon his shoulder with a heavy sigh. He was happy when his father held him back; honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been held like this. It had to have been years, at least. His father was still taller than him, he noticed. As childish as it was, that made him feel the slightest bit happy. He was small in his father’s arms; he felt safe. He had longed for this reunion ever since he was a little boy, and now that it was here, even if it was a dream, he wasn’t about to let it go.

「Dad...」 He said gently, his voice hoarse. 「You finally came back! I thought… I thought I’d never see you again! I’ve missed you so, so much!」 He pulled away, cutting himself off to nearly hack up a lung. Genshin began to pat his back as he slowly managed to catch his breath. 「D-dad, I’m so sorry. I-」

「Shh. It’s all right.」 Genshin finally replied. He reached his hand out, sweeping Asougi’s bangs out of the way before placing it on his forehead. 「You’re really hot. Let’s go home.」

「Okay.」 Asougi replied. He began to walk forward, but immediately felt dizzy. Genshin grabbed his son’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, then grabbed his waist as a means of supporting him on their walk back home. Asougi was thankful for it and leaned into his touch.

They walked home in silence for the most part. Asougi still didn’t recognize anything or anyone around them. People sometimes gave him and his father suspicious looks but for the most part, they were ignored. However this time, it didn’t bother him. He didn’t feel isolated and lost like he had earlier. With his father holding on to him, guiding him and keeping him warm, he was unafraid.

Quite frankly, it had been a long time since he was this happy.

「Dad?」 Asougi asked.

「Yes?」 Genshin replied.

「Thank you for coming back for me.」 Asougi said. 「Honestly I thought you never would. There’s been so much I’ve wanted to talk to you about… I don’t even know where to start. I was so lonely after you left, after mom… I… It’s been so lonely! I’ve missed you so much! B-both of you. And I just –」 Asougi stopped once again to cough.

「Stop talking, please.」 Genshin replied firmly. 「You’re sick.」

「I know… I’m sorry. But please, let me say one thing? Please?」

「Yes?」

「I love you, dad.」 Asougi said. It was something he had longed to say for so long, and regretted not doing it when he had the chance. He loved his father, his family, and even if this was just a fever-induced illusion, he wanted to tell him. He just had to tell him.

He expected his father to scold him once again for talking so much while he was this sick. But when he glanced over at him, he noticed he looked… surprised. But that surprise quickly melted into a warm smile, one that always managed to lift Asougi’s spirits too.

「I love you too, Kazuma.」 He replied.

Asougi squeezed onto his arm tighter.

They wandered through the busy streets until finally they reached home. Asougi couldn’t quite remember this place, but he trusted his father. Besides, he couldn’t deny that the place had an air of familiarity and homeliness to it. His father led him up a flight of stairs until they reached a bedroom. He then left Asougi to change into his pajamas and once he climbed into bed, Genshin returned with a wet washcloth, placing it on his son’s forehead after sweeping his bangs back.

「Get some rest.」 He said gently. He got up to leave but before he could get too far, Asougi reached out and grabbed his father’s sleeve, stopping him in place.

「Can you stay with me?」 Asougi asked weakly. He knew it was stupid of him to ask, but… he was very sick and perhaps this wasn’t even real and he was just dying and imagining all this. If this was all just a feverish dream, then he could be selfish for once, couldn’t he? 「I’m sorry, but please... Just for now…」

「It’s okay.」 His father replied. He grabbed a book from one of the shelves to read and pulled up a chair beside the bed. 「Goodnight, Kazuma.」

「Goodnight, dad.」 Asougi replied. He weakly reached his hand out and held onto his father’s sleeve once more. He shut his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly.

When Asougi woke up next, he realized he was in his bedroom in Holmes’s attic. He felt horrible, as usual, but for the first time in ages he felt marginally better upon waking rather than worse. There was a wet washcloth on his forehead; one that was still cold, he noticed, which meant someone had tended to it recently. A large, pink plush bear was tucked lovingly into the bed beside him; if he were to guess it looked like one of Iris’s toys, if not one she had made herself. Obviously he hadn’t taken it from her but he didn’t recall it being placed next to him, which lead Asougi to wonder how long he had been laying here and how he had gotten here in the first place. The sky outside the window was dark; the last thing he remembered it had been daylight and he had been at work and he was running errands for Van Zieks when… when…

「Good morning, Kazuma.」 Holmes said. His voice startled Asougi, who gasped and went into a coughing fit at it. Holmes looked concerned at it and got up, quickly returning with a glass of water for him. Asougi took it from him and drank it greedily, trying to soothe his burning throat.

“H-Holmes?” Asougi finally managed after setting the glass down. “What… H-how did I, uh… What are you doing here?”

“You asked me to stay here with you, don’t you recall?”

“No, I didn’t. I asked my father to…” Asougi trailed off as he realized what he was saying. His father was long dead; he hadn’t asked him to do anything. But that dream he had had, where his father had found him and taken him home… hadn’t been a dream, had it? He had really wandered around London aimlessly, cold and sick, and had nearly passed out on a park bench until he had been found and escorted home and put to bed like a child.

Only instead of his father, it had been Holmes, hadn’t it?

Asougi felt like he might just vomit from the embarrassment. Of course that was Holmes and not his father – what was wrong with him? He should have read into the fact that his father’s speaking had been rather simplistic and choppy. He should have noticed the fact that he was much taller than his father had been. And he should have questioned why his father would be here at all when he had been dead and gone for a long, long time now.

But no, Asougi continued to be an idiot and had actually thought his feverish vision to be real and here he had gone and thrown himself into Holmes’s arms and spilled his soul to him and told him he loved him like some pathetic child. How could he do something so embarrassing to a man who had done so much for him?

“I’m... I'm really sorry.” Asougi finally said.

“For what?”

“For acting so childishly earlier.”

“Oh, it’s all right. I could tell you weren’t feeling well. Speaking of,” Holmes leaned forward, pressing the back of his hand against Asougi’s forehead, “your fever seems to have cooled a bit. How are you feeling?”

“...A little better.” Asougi replied.

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve called for a doctor to come visit you tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t need a doctor.”

“You’ve been sick for two weeks. I think that’s reason enough for concern.”

“But -”

“No buts; I’ve already called the doctor and it’s too late to cancel. You’re going to get help whether you like it or not.”

“Okay.” Asougi sighed. He really did feel like a child being scolded again. When he had first met Holmes it had baffled him that someone so silly and aloof could be a father but now he was beginning to see it come out. “Say, Holmes?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you play along with me earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mistook you for my father and acted accordingly. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Why would I? You were clearly in a daze. You needed help more than anything, so correcting you really wasn’t a priority.”

“I guess…” Asougi trailed off, still feeling horribly embarrassed. He pulled the large stuffed bear in the bed closer to him to bury his face in.

“You like that?” Holmes asked. “Iris and I made that together when she was really little. She says it’s her favourite stuffed animal.”

“Then why did she give it to me?”

“She thought you could use the company. She’s told me that clinging to that bear has made her feel better on nights when she was sick or sad, and figured it would do the same for you.”

“Ah…” Asougi smiled to himself. “I’ll try to return it soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. She was happy to do it – she told me herself, anything to make her brother feel better.”

“Brother…” Asougi muttered to himself. Holmes had told him a while ago that Iris referred to him as such but honestly, he thought he might have been making that up to make him feel better. But he supposed he was telling the truth if the large plush was any indication. That, or Holmes had dragged that in here himself, but he doubted it. From the looks of it, Holmes had sat here for as long as he had been sleeping.

Why would he do such a thing?

Sure, Asougi had asked him to, but he had asked him to while he was delirious and exhausted and mixing him up for someone else. Why would he stay there when Asougi was out like a light and it wouldn’t matter? Holmes’s behavior continued to stump him.

...Could he really care that much?

“Holmes?” Asougi asked. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“A few months back ago… why did you risk your life to save me?”

“You were in trouble. Wouldn’t you step in if you saw the same?”

“Step in, maybe. But step in the literal line of fire and point the gun towards myself for a stranger? Maybe not.”

“A stranger…” Holmes muttered. “Kazuma… do you recall that I referred to you as such that night?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Have you ever wondered why I called you that, rather than Mr. Asougi?”

“No, I haven’t. I figured it was just a slip of the tongue.”

“In a way, it was.” Holmes leaned back in his chair. “So, that day I lied to you. I did not learn your first name through Miss Susato. I’ve known it for a long time, long before I even met you. It’s what Yuujin referred to you as when we talked over letters. He did that as a way of differentiating you from your father, whom I also referred to as Mr. Asougi.”

“Okay, and?”

“Yuujin talked about you a lot during our years apart. He only ever had good things to say about his children, and he loved to show off.”

“But I’m not his son.”

“Maybe not by blood, but he still saw you as such. Anyways, in between praises for Miss Susato, he would go and on about you as you grew up too. Long before I met you, I already knew you as Kazuma, the young man who excelled on almost every test he took, who taught Miss Susato kendo at a young age and let her knock him down every time, even when she barely came up to his waist. I knew you as Kazuma, the boy who was much too responsible for his young age, often forsaking hobbies and fun with friends for the sake of studies and acting like a second parent to Miss Susato, making her lunches for school when Yuujin was much too busy himself, and even going out of your way to cut the apples up into cute shapes for her. I knew you as Kazuma, the boy who worked much too hard and it was a shame how rarely he smiled; because whenever he did, it always managed to light up the whole room.”

“He…” Asougi mumbled, “He really said all that about me?”

“Yes, he did. I remember as I read his letters, I grew anxious to meet you and Miss Susato. Just like how Yuujin saw Iris as his own child, even from across the sea, I felt the same way about the two of you. I cared for you deeply. And I still do.”

Asougi just lay there in silence for a moment, a little dumbfounded. So all this time, behind every strangely kindhearted action… Holmes truly held no ill will towards him? There were no ulterior motives? He did all of this from the warmth of his heart? And… he even loved him, as if he were actually his son and a part of his family?

“So… when you told me you loved me…”

“I meant it.” Holmes said firmly. “And I mean it still. I always will.”

“Holmes…” Asougi squeezed onto the plush tighter, his heart pounding. Honestly, he was very touched. To think this whole time, long before he had even gotten here, Holmes cared for him – even loved him – like a son… it was the last thing he had expected. He had sort of thought, for a long while now, that he was just incapable of being loved. He was just too wretched, too impulsive, too stupid… but he was wrong. Holmes cared for him and had for a long time, and even after he had seen first hand what he was like, he still loved him. Asougi had just been too caught up in his self-hatred to even see being loved as a possibility. “I think I’ve misjudged you, and I’m sorry for that.”

“You have?”

“Yeah… honestly, I thought you were up to something by letting me stay here with you.”

“Well, normally I’d take offense to that but… I get it. I’ve been told I’m a bit aloof. And based on what you’ve been through… it’s understandable. I just hope one day you’ll be able to trust me.”

Asougi was beginning to realize now why his feverish mind had imagined Holmes of all people to be his father. His voice was familiar and kind and caring, just as his father’s had been in life. As much as he had denied Holmes’s care for him at every instance, deep down he had really wanted it. His heart had longed to be loved and be part of a family once again after years of living without it. His father’s case may have finally been solved but that simply did not fill the glaring, lonely hole in his heart that his family’s demise had caused.

He wanted to be loved again; he wanted it more than he could bear. But years of self-isolation, and then being manipulated or utterly rejected by those he trusted or cared most for only served to harden his heart. His cold, logical mind figured that at the end of the day, being loved again was simply impossible for someone like him. The only people who would ever be close to him would either want to use him, or would grow tired and disdainful of him soon enough.

And yet, Holmes and Iris hadn’t.

They had loved him from the start, no strings attached. Iris loved to spend time with him and play with him and saw him as an older brother almost immediately. And Holmes, whom had loved him long before he had even met him, was willing to take him in and care for him and even risk his life for him – and expected nothing in return. He did it all simply from the kindness and love in his heart. He saw Asougi as family. They both did.

And maybe, just maybe, Asougi could learn to open his heart and try to see them as such, too.

“I think…” Asougi smiled at him, “I think I already do.”

Asougi spent the next week bedridden. After a doctor examined him, it was determined that his cold had developed into pneumonia and aside from water and medicine he would need lots of rest if he hoped to recover and was told to stay put. He absolutely did not want to do that but Holmes and Iris were adamant about keeping him in bed. Iris went out of her way to make Asougi soup so he wouldn’t have to cook for himself, as much as he had insisted he’d take care of himself. She even ensured there was no chicken in the soup, lest he refuse to eat it and only make his condition worse. It was the little, kind things that made it impossible to say no to her.

Though he had to spend the week essentially stuck in one room, he was rarely bored. He spent most of his time sleeping, but when he couldn’t do so, he always had company. Iris lugged her typewriter upstairs and would work away at her manuscripts and chat with him all the while. Holmes would join them occasionally, too. He would reminisce and tell stories about old cases he had investigated with Yuujin when they were younger, some of which he hadn’t even told Iris before. It was hard for Asougi to imagine calm, level-headed Yuujin tagging along on such antics, but he supposed Holmes was charming enough to bring that kind of lively spirit out of anyone. He would have to ask Yuujin about some of these stories once he returned back home again.

Except, was the Mikotoba’s residence really home to him? He would always appreciate their hospitality and selflessness, but it had never felt like it was. When he first got there, Asougi tried to make himself as small as possible so he wouldn’t burden them, and it made their ever becoming something like a family kind of unlikely. And now he worried that they would want nothing to do with him once he got back there.

No, no. Asougi needed to stop thinking that way and assuming for others when he didn’t know for certain how they felt. While he was struggling with hating himself, he had no reason to project that self-hatred onto others. He needed to be better about this and look at it with an open mind. Sure, he hated himself. But that didn’t mean everyone did. Holmes and Iris had proven that. And while he still didn’t know how Naruhodou or the Mikotobas felt about him, he’d just have to take it one step at a time. They weren’t here right now, so he should focus on other things instead of dwelling on and assuming the worst of people who weren’t here to tell him otherwise. He assumed they hated him, but he had thought the same of Holmes and Iris and had quickly been proven wrong. He needed to have an open mind about all this. He needed to focus on the people he could see, the people here who he loved, and he knew loved him, too… and maybe one day, he’d slowly be able to love himself. He worried it might be selfish of him but one day, he’d like to get to that point. Or at least try.

But one step at a time. And step one was simply feeling better, physically.

After one week had passed, Asougi felt tremendously better. He still had a bit of a cough and felt a little weary, but his fever had broken and he didn’t feel like he was going to collapse simply by standing. As long as he spent the coming weeks relaxing rather than exerting himself, he should be all right.

To celebrate his finally feeling better, Iris decided to make him something nice for dinner. He had been practically living off soups during his illness, and while they were always good when she made them, he was getting a tad bit tired of the same. He offered to make something for himself but she had insisted, claiming that since he had such an awful week, he deserved a treat. When she pouted, he knew better than to argue with her.

When she called him down for dinner that night, he noticed the aroma smelled familiar. And when he reached the dinner table, he realized why. Strewn out on the table before him were three large bowls, each with rice and topped with shirataki noodles, chopped vegetables and beef with an egg on the side. Though it was a little haphazard and improvised, it was clear what it was: gyuunabe.

“Surprise!” Iris exclaimed.

“We made you your thing.” Holmes said.

“It’s called gyuunabe, papa.”

“Right. Anyways, we made that.”

“How?” Asougi finally asked.

“After you told me it was your favourite food, I wanted to make it for you sometime. I decided to ask Susie about it. She sent over some of the dry ingredients and a recipe to make it. I had to improvise with some things and I know it’s not perfect, but I hope you still like it.”

“I… Thank you, Iris. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

For the first time since arriving here, he joined Iris and Holmes at the table and began to eat. Just as expected, he loved it. It was a little bit on the sweeter side, but delicious nonetheless. He couldn’t believe she’d go out of her way to do something so thoughtful, and was going to say thank you again but ultimately couldn’t. Instead, he found himself staring at the sight before him. Iris and Holmes were chatting away happily while they ate, though for once, Asougi didn’t feel excluded in his silence. It was like when he was younger, when he would listen in to Susato telling Professor Mikotoba about her day at school, or even younger than that when he’d listen to his parents talk at dinner. He knew now like he knew then that if he spoke up, he wouldn’t be ignored. The people sitting with him wanted him there and were happy to have him with them.

Honestly, he liked being around people. As much as he had spent his life trying to hide away, he liked being near others. He liked to spend time with friends and people he cared for and chat away with them and simply feel like he had a place with them, even when he wasn’t talking. It… had been a long time since he felt this way, surrounded by happy chatter, good food and good people; people who cared about him and had proven time and time again that they did, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

For the first time in a long time… he felt like he actually belonged somewhere.

“Kazumie?” Iris spoke up abruptly. “Is something the matter?”

“Do you not feel well?” Holmes asked.

Asougi hadn’t realized it, but he had begun to tear up. He realized he must look foolish, sitting in silence and weeping at a nice meal he had only had a few bites of, but he couldn’t help it. This had been the first time in a long time that he actually felt as though he were part of a family again and the feeling had overwhelmed him.

Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been so happy.

“I-it’s nothing,” Asougi said finally, quickly wiping his eyes, “it’s really good, Iris. I mean it. Thank you. And thank you too, Holmes. It… really means the world to me.”

“Aww, it’s okay, Kazumie. It really wasn’t that hard to make. I mean, I guess it would help if I had an actual hot pot to cook it in, and – ”

“Iris, I don’t think that’s what he meant.” Holmes said gently. It was clear from the soft look in his eyes that he knew precisely what Asougi was thanking them for. “You’re welcome, Kazuma.”

Asougi smiled at them, finally feeling like he was home.