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During the few months that Kazuma lived in Barok’s mansion, without a single memory tying him to his past, he came to care about that man, who tried so hard to do everything on his own and keep his struggles hidden.
Barok never touched that subject, but it was easy to see the pain in his eyes whenever he looked at that painting of a man who, in many ways, resembled himself. Kazuma never mentioned it either—he had been ordered to speak as little as possible—but still tried to aid and comfort his mentor in whatever little ways he could: keeping his desk clean and organized, doing as much as he could as an apprentice to ease his workload, paying attention to his health, making sure he wasn’t pushing himself too far… Things Barok wouldn’t notice so easily, but still—he hoped—made a small difference.
It was the least he could do. Barok was kind to him… Always concerned about his health and well-being, making sure he didn’t work more than necessary and got enough time to rest. For months, Barok was the one closest to him… The one he would do anything for without a second of hesitation.
And then, in no more than a moment, it all turned into a sea of ashes and resentment: he hated that man he once cherished… Wished for his suffering, for his death… For him to regret everything he did to his father. The Reaper… How could he have treated Kazuma with kindness after everything he did? Was it all for his own twisted enjoyment? So he could laugh at that foolish “Nipponese” behind his back?
Part of him—which he tried with all his might to keep silent—knew that wasn’t the case… That Barok wasn’t that kind of person. And that was one of the reasons why Kazuma had to constantly repeat the accusatory thoughts in his head, afraid that his resolve would falter if he ever stopped.
But then, during that fateful trial, he was proven wrong. After the truth finally came to light, thanks to his closest friend, there was no denying that Barok was innocent… Just another victim of Mael Stronghart.
It should be over… Yet, as much as he tried, Kazuma couldn’t let go of his anger: red, burning, suffocating anger.
Since the day he opened that cursed letter, Kazuma’s life had turned into nothing but a pathway leading him to the moment he would uncover the truth about his father. Now that he did, however, there was no pride or satisfaction at the end of the road, just… nothing—nothing but emptiness and that cold, irrational anger toward a man he knew didn’t deserve it.
He had been a fool… Feeding his rage to the point it became stronger than his reason—until it was strong enough to consume him whole. He knew how wrong he was, and yet, something inside his mind kept struggling to find ways to justify his hatred.
So, unsurprisingly, he did: something he still didn’t have the answer to, despite being what had so deeply changed his life ten years before. Unable to rest until he got an answer from the man himself, Kazuma made his way to his office, being received by Barok’s surprised expression.
“Asogi.”
His voice was low, somber… Kazuma wondered if, just like himself, that man tried to conceal his true emotions when saying his name.
“I apologize for the unexpected visit, Lord van Zieks.” Kazuma tried to keep his tone polite, but his voice was unnaturally stiff. “I hoped we could talk for a moment.”
“Of course. What is it?”
For a few seconds, he could say nothing. It was still difficult to look at that man’s face… Part of him sympathized with Barok van Zieks. He hated that man. He wanted to forgive him. He couldn’t look him in the eyes. He wanted to leave the past behind. He was unable to forget. He tried to understand him. He wanted to slice his throat.
Kazuma pushed those thoughts out of his mind.
“Ten years ago,” he said, “we received a letter from someone in London. It didn’t have a name.” He made a pause, meeting Barok’s gaze. “Was it you who sent it?”
“A letter?” Barok repeated. “No, I didn’t know anyone from Genshin’s family at the time. And, even if I did, I was so immersed in my hatred for him that I wouldn’t have sent them my condolences.”
Kazuma’s stomach turned. “It wasn’t a letter of condolences.”
“No?” Barok seemed slightly surprised. “What was it, then?”
“A letter cursing the Asogi name. Calling my father a murderer.”
Neither of them spoke for the following seconds.
“So that’s how you heard of it…” Barok murmured, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, it must have been difficult.”
It was.
“After learning of that letter,” said Kazuma, “the Asogi clan shunned me and my mother. Her health was always fragile, but it became worse once she learned of my father’s passing. After that, her condition only decayed, until…” He felt his voice about to crack, and made a brief, sharp pause. “She died with no one but me by her side, all because of the lies someone from London wrote.”
Slowly, realization seemed to finally fall upon Barok. “You thought it was me.”
“Can you blame me for it?”
“No…” Barok lowered his voice. “I suppose I would have arrived at the same conclusion in your place.”
Kazuma couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed by that turn of events. Part of him already knew: the handwriting on that letter, still engraved in his memory, was too different from Barok’s. Yet, he hoped that confrontation would bring him some sort of closure, one way or another.
But, even if—against all odds—it had been Barok, what would he even do? Kill him? Without hesitating, this time? He couldn’t tell. Kazuma wanted to believe he was stronger than that, but at the same time… Part of him wanted a reason—one single reason to do something he would regret for the rest of his life.
“If you had sent that letter,” he said, “I would never be able to forgive you.”
“It wasn’t me,” said Barok. “I despised Genshin and his entire race at the time, but it never crossed my mind to write a letter to his family.”
“I understand.” Kazuma lowered his head. “And I apologize for my suspicions.”
For a while, neither of them spoke a word, filling that office with an uncomfortable silence.
“What are you going to do now?” Barok asked, finally. “Return to your homeland?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“I see.”
That had been a lie: he had something in mind… Something he had considered before his anger consumed him whole once again. It was strange to think of it now, and the thought of mentioning it only made things worse; however, he forced himself to speak, aware that, if he didn’t ask it now, he would keep finding reasons not to.
“Lord van Zieks…” he said. “Truth is, I had another reason for coming here today. I’ll understand if you’re against the idea, but… I’ve decided to keep following the path of prosecution.” He stopped for a second, preparing himself for the possible response. “And I would be grateful if you agreed to mentor me once again.”
Barok simply observed him for a moment, his expression barely changing at the request. Then, he slowly nodded. “You proved your worth as a prosecutor, and, since you’re not opposed to the idea, I would be happy to act as your mentor for a while longer.”
That simple answer was unexpected, but also a relief: someone like Kazuma didn’t have the right to be a defense attorney, but, since the end of that trial, the possibility of being a prosecutor became stronger in his mind. Maybe that way he could do something good with his life.
“Is something wrong?” Barok’s voice brought him back to the present.
Kazuma shook his head. “I was just surprised that you agreed so easily, after…” He struggled to find the right words, in vain. “You know.”
“Don’t think about it. It’s in the past.”
If only it was that simple… Everything was still too recent, enough to make it difficult for Kazuma to fully accept all those horrible facts. But he didn’t argue, quietly nodding in response.
“You’re already familiar with the schedule,” Barok continued, “so, we can start tomorrow, if it’s fine with you.”
“I’ll be here, then.” Kazuma made a pause, making an effort to say his next words. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Don’t thank me.”
“As you wish.”
Kazuma considered saying something else, but the words dissolved on his tongue. Instead, he walked outside, closing the door behind his back.
Kazuma knew going back to his old routine as Barok’s apprentice wouldn’t be easy. The silence, the heavy tension between them, the resentment Kazuma tried so hard to keep locked inside, but refused to stay in place…
It was agonizing.
A week passed like that, with the hours dragging by, accompanied by the constant restlessness in Kazuma’s chest. He managed to do his work, but was constantly counting the seconds until he could finally leave. Ironic, given how it had all been his idea, to begin with…
But he had been through much worse, and his mind was set on becoming a proper prosecutor under Barok’s guidance. So, no matter how much time and effort it took, he would face it without a single complaint—even if that meant dealing with the frequent headaches, countless nights with little to no sleep, and a constant pain in his stomach that kept him from eating properly. Hopefully, with time, those things would also fade, along with his resentment.
Kazuma noticed the sound of steps approaching, but kept his gaze on the papers in front of him until Barok finally spoke.
“You look tired. Have you been sleeping properly?”
The question, his concerned voice… Every time Barok approached him in that compassionate manner, a sharp pain took Kazuma’s chest. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” asked Barok. “You can leave early, if you’re feeling unwell.”
“You don’t need to treat me so carefully.”
His voice sounded drier than he intended. Barok stayed silent for a while, his expression unchanged.
“It wasn’t my intention,” Barok said, finally.
His response made the guilt weigh inside Kazuma. “I know… I apologize for my rudeness.”
“There is nothing to apologize for. If nothing is wrong, then I’ll leave you to your duties.”
Without another word, Barok returned to his desk. Kazuma didn’t raise his eyes: he tried to ignore it most of the time, but sometimes it was difficult to contain that unfair resentment still lingering inside him.
It was strange… Barok had always been gentle to him, but… Not like that. Since he went back to that office as “Kazuma Asogi,” Barok treated him with an unnatural concern that, more often than not, left him feeling suffocated instead of safe. The genuine concern that Kazuma once cherished now seemed motivated by nothing but guilt—and, as exhausting as it could be, part of him liked it. He wanted Barok to feel that pain… to regret everything he did. Whenever those sharp words escaped Kazuma’s mouth, there was a faint satisfaction deep inside his chest.
Even worse was how Barok never retorted, quietly accepting all of Kazuma’s childish words and actions, dismissing his apologies as unnecessary. He made it all so easy… So easy for Kazuma to turn all his anger against him, and hurt him in those small ways he always came to regret.
Kazuma sighed, trying to keep those thoughts out of his mind, turning his attention back to his work. For the following minutes, the only sound in the office was the one of their quills scratching the paper. Once he was done with that report, he stood up, approaching Barok’s desk.
“Excuse me, my lord.”
Barok looked at him. “Are you done?”
Kazuma nodded, handing the report to him. He stayed there, unsure if he should touch that subject or not. Barok’s slightly curious gaze and words were what motivated him to speak.
“Is there something else?”
“If you don’t mind me asking…” said Kazuma. “Why did you agree to it? Having me as your apprentice, I mean.”
“As I said, there is great potential in you.”
“Is that really all?”
Barok didn’t answer for a while, lowering his gaze to the papers in his hands without paying attention to them.
“It’s the least I can do to atone for my sins,” he muttered.
“Atone?”
“I have wronged you and your family in many ways. I owe you at least this much. Besides…” Barok showed a small, pained smile. “Genshin would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you.”
His answer brought a bitter taste to Kazuma’s mouth. “Lord van Zieks, my father is gone. He can’t blame you, or offer you forgiveness.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to, even if he could.”
“Then what? Do you expect me to forgive you?”
“That’s not what I—”
“I can’t forgive you,” Kazuma said in a sharp voice. “No matter how much time passes, I’ll never forgive you for what you did. I don’t care if you weren’t the one who pulled the trigger… You should have believed him. You should have known that he wouldn’t do something like that.” He gritted his teeth. “You were the only one who could have saved him, but you chose to let him die. Everything… Everything that happened is because you refused to believe in him.”
Kazuma regretted those words as soon as he stopped speaking, as if his uncontrollable rage had run its course, leaving nothing but a cold trail behind. Barok simply looked at him, his usually impassible expression betraying how much those words hurt.
“I know,” he said.
That reaction only made Kazuma’s guilt much worse. “No, I… I didn’t mean to…”
He struggled to find the words: no matter what he said, it would sound hollow after all those accusations.
Barok shook his head. “You’re right. I should have known better.”
“That’s not true… I know you didn’t…” Kazuma averted his gaze. Why was it so easy to say things he didn’t mean, and so difficult to take those words back? “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re right.”
“I’m not!” Kazuma raised his voice. “You’re not the one I should be blaming… I know how painful this must be for you, and I didn’t want to…”
“It’s fine.”
The way he simply accepted those terrible accusations made a small voice inside Kazuma’s head tell him to keep going, push that man to his limit until he either broke or reacted in some way. That was so wrong… He didn’t want to feel like that—be like that. Alongside the remorse, the irritation started to grow inside him.
“Why do you keep doing this…?” asked Kazuma. “Taking in everything I yell at you won’t make things better.”
“I simply want to compensate for the pain I’ve caused you.”
“Compensate…” Those words made Kazuma’s stomach turn. “Do you really think you can…?”
“I suppose not.” Barok let out a small sigh. “But I’m willing to do whatever I can for your sake.”
A burning feeling took him whole, replacing every thought in Kazuma’s mind with hatred toward that man. He gritted his teeth, reaching for his sword, raising it with the tip just a few centimeters away from Barok’s throat.
“Would you allow me to kill you, then?”
Barok didn’t move, staring at Kazuma with that impassive expression. When he finally spoke, his voice was equally devoid of emotion. “Would that bring you peace?”
His answer made a cold feeling spread throughout Kazuma’s body. He lowered his sword, taking a step back. “Are you serious…?”
Barok said something, but Kazuma could barely understand his words. When he was with Barok, he was plagued by a constant feeling that he was just one bad day, one bad fight away from doing something terrible. He didn’t trust himself after what he almost did to Tobias Gregson, and Barok made it too easy for him to continue.
He felt sick… He couldn’t stay there another minute…
“This can’t keep going…” he muttered.
“Asogi?”
Without another word, he dashed to the door, leaving the office, walking away from that building with hasty steps. He should have known being around that man was a bad idea… There was no way things would simply get better by themselves.
As hard as being close to Barok was, though, being alone in his tiny apartment, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, wasn’t much easier. No matter how much he tried, it was difficult to keep his mind from creeping into dark places.
The worst part to accept was Jigoku… For so many years, Kazuma had seen him as an uncle figure, who—unlike Mikotoba—didn’t avoid mentioning his father. He always felt… approachable. Kind and funny, but also always willing to help Kazuma in his journey to become an attorney.
How could he… How was it possible that the admirable man he once knew and the murderer who tried to incriminate Kazuma for his crimes were the same person…?
Kazuma wished he could stop thinking about him, but there was too much of that man in his life… Much more than he could possibly leave behind. What had Kazuma even meant to him? Had part of Jigoku truly cared about him? Was his kindness just a result of the guilt he felt? Or had he seen Kazuma, from the very beginning, as someone he could easily use and sacrifice for his own gain?
“You’re just like Genshin…”
A bundle of feelings crushed his chest from the inside. Kazuma fought against the urge to throw up, struggling to breathe at a steady pace.
How could he have been so blind?
Kazuma curled into a ball on his bed. Back in Japan, no matter how bad things could get, he always had his revenge to keep him going. But now… There was nothing left. He thought things would get better after a while… That his anger would dissipate, and he would be able to, if not forgive, at least stop hating Barok—that time would finally start moving again, not only for himself, but the two of them.
Why wasn’t he happy? What else did he need to do to find some relief?
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find an answer. He had done everything wrong in his life… He lied to those who offered him kindness in his time of need. He trusted his life to the man who murdered his father in cold blood. He used the only true friend he had in the world. He tried to get an innocent man killed—and he still blamed that man for all the misery he brought upon himself. And now, as a result, he was completely alone.
God… He hated the person he had become.
Kazuma stayed in bed for the rest of the day, simply allowing time to crawl by; he wasn’t sleepy, but didn’t feel like moving either. After feeling miserable for hours on end, it was like all his energy had been drained, as well as his capacity to care about any of it. He didn’t want to think anymore… It would be good if he could just fall asleep.
The sound of someone at the door brought him back from his half-daze. Probably the landlord… There wasn’t anyone else in that country who would want to pay him a visit.
Kazuma considered pretending he hadn’t heard it, but when the knocks echoed a second time, he gave in, standing up with a frustrated growl. He opened the door, and the sight made him freeze in place.
“Asogi,” said Barok.
For a few seconds, Kazuma could do nothing but stare at him. “Why are you here?”
“I was concerned.”
Kazuma averted his gaze, slightly annoyed. “I said you don’t have to take care of me.”
Instead of answering, Barok observed him for a long while. “What’s wrong?”
What wasn’t wrong? Kazuma had threatened him… Raised his blade against his throat… Why was he acting like nothing had happened…?
“Leave,” Kazuma muttered.
“Please, allow me to go inside.”
“Why?” Kazuma forced a bitter laugh. “Do you enjoy it that much when I treat you like shit?”
He hoped Barok would just get tired of dealing with him and go away, for good this time. Instead, he stayed there, his expression unchanged. “Please.”
Kazuma didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to deal with Barok, especially after what had happened in his office; if he stayed close to that man, he would keep doing things he would regret later.
Yet, more than anything, he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts again.
“Do whatever you want.”
Kazuma walked back inside the apartment, sitting on his bed with his legs bent and back against the wall. Barok followed him, closing the door behind his back.
“Excuse me,” he said.
Kazuma didn’t answer, staring at the mattress in front of him. Without another word, Barok pulled a chair, sitting close to the bed. Neither of them spoke for the following minutes, and the silence only made Kazuma’s anxiety grow.
“Are you just going to stay there?” he asked without looking at Barok.
“I don’t know what else I could do.”
“Why are you here?”
“As I said, I was—”
“The real reason,” Kazuma said in a sharp tone. “You don’t expect me to believe you’re here just out of the goodness of your heart, do you?” He inhaled sharply. “If you think this will change anything…”
He cut his words short—if he didn’t shut up, he would say something terrible again. Barok observed him for a long while, but Kazuma refused to meet his gaze.
“Asogi…” said Barok in a low voice. “You’re clearly not yourself at the moment.”
“And what makes you think you know me?”
“I don’t. But I knew Genshin, and—”
“Stop talking about him!” Kazuma raised his voice. “My father is dead. No matter what you do, he won’t see it. He won’t give you the forgiveness you want so much. It’s too late for that.” He paused, repeating through gritted teeth. “It’s too late.”
As expected, Barok said nothing. Kazuma observed him, the anger quickly giving place to remorse.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say those things.” Kazuma struggled with the words. “I know it wasn’t your fault…”
Why was it so difficult…? He always regretted his words later, so why couldn’t he just stay quiet?
“I never meant to hurt you,” he continued in a low voice, “but I keep doing it… And every time I do, I just hate myself even more…” He lowered his head, hugging his knees. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already did… I don’t even blame you for what happened. But this is stronger than me, and I don’t know if I can stop it.”
Barok stayed silent for a few seconds. When he finally spoke, his tone was little more than a mutter. “I didn’t realize how much this was hurting you. I thought…” A brief pause. “I thought turning your hate against me would make things a little easier to bear.”
Kazuma shook his head. “I know you don’t deserve it… And I don’t want this to keep going.”
“Asogi…”
Barok seemed about to say something else, but didn’t. Kazuma raised his head, looking at him.
“Please, leave,” he asked.
“I can’t do that.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I almost got you killed… I’d say we’re even, after that.”
“That’s not why…” Barok stopped, letting out a small sigh. “I can’t leave you alone… Not like this.”
“Please…” Kazuma insisted. “I just want this all to be over.”
Barok thought for a moment, then stood up. Kazuma thought he would leave as he said, but instead, he sat on the bed, beside Kazuma, placing a hand on his back.
“It is over,” he said in a low, reassuring tone. “That nightmare of ten years has finally come to an end. All we can do now is keep going.”
Kazuma didn’t know how to respond. Things would be so much easier if Barok just left without another word… If he wasn’t going to blame Kazuma for his actions, he should at least leave him alone to rot with all his hatred. Instead, he chose to stay there, his light, comforting touch keeping him from sinking again into his dark thoughts.
Why? Why him, from all people…? Kazuma silenced that angry voice before it could take over again. Those kind actions were moved by guilt, he already knew it… But it didn’t change the fact that Barok was there, by his side, when he needed someone.
The thought made his chest tighten: Ryunosuke would be there if he knew Kazuma needed him… Susato and Mikotoba too. He was the one who hadn’t let them get close, hiding his true feelings behind confident words and a wide smile. No matter how much they tried, Kazuma kept pushing them away. Barok wasn’t special… He was simply the only one who hadn’t given up yet.
That realization hurt more than anything else.
Time passed quietly. Barok stayed there, sitting on the border of the mattress, while Kazuma lay on the bed with his legs curled, facing the wall.
“For how long are you planning to stay?” asked Kazuma.
“For a while longer.” A brief pause. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“No, not really.”
“You need to eat something.” Noticing Kazuma’s low groan, Barok quickly added. “And I’m not trying to take care of you. I’m just worried.”
Kazuma considered it for a moment. “I will. But not now.”
Barok nodded. Kazuma was sure they would go back to that awkward silence, but instead, Barok soon spoke again.
“I believed allowing you to let your anger out would help you feel better. After all the pain I’ve caused, I thought it was the least I could do for you.”
Kazuma didn’t answer immediately, thinking about those words. “I think I understand, but… I don’t want things to stay like this.” He let out a humorless laugh. “You keep mentioning my father… If he was here, he would be ashamed of me.”
“No,” said Barok, “I’m sure he would understand how you feel. He loved you above everything else.”
Those words made his throat close, a bundle of feelings weighing in his chest.
“I miss him…” said Kazuma. “I was just a kid when he left, but… I loved him. I wanted to see him again…”
He almost stopped there, but, almost as if he had taken the lid off those feelings he tried to keep safe inside his chest, the words kept coming.
“When we received that letter, I… Everything else… The things I wanted, the dreams I had… None of it made sense anymore. I was ready to find the truth, no matter what… I didn’t think there was a chance for me to get out of this alive, but… I’m still here, and now… I don’t know what else to do with my life.”
“I felt like this as well,” said Barok. “Ten years ago, after I lost Klint. I was ready to sacrifice everything to find the one responsible for his death… I was so blinded by my pain and rage that I couldn’t see what now feels obvious.”
“I did the same thing. If it depended on me, you’d be dead, and Stronghart would still be doing whatever he wanted. I’d probably be dead too…” He hugged his arms. “There’s no way he would just let me go home after all that.”
“Probably not…” Barok seemed hesitant for a moment. “I won’t deny that I resented you during that trial. Not only for your accusations, but for being his son. But I’m not lying when I say that I’m worried about you.”
“That’s the problem… I don’t want you to be kind to me, or worry about me. If you do that, I’ll…” Kazuma’s voice failed, and he continued in a lower tone. “I’ll keep doing things that’ll hurt you.”
Barok stayed silent for a while. Kazuma looked at him, but couldn’t read his expression in that dimly-lit room.
“You were right,” said Barok, finally. “I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. After learning the truth, I was lost. Klint, Genshin… I was so wrong about both of them. I couldn’t accept it… That Klint was a murderer, and that I condemned an innocent man to death… A friend. The more I thought about it, the more the despair inside me grew. I feared that, once again, I would find myself trapped in that same dark place I was a decade ago.” He looked at Kazuma, meeting his gaze. “But, this time, it was different… There was you, Genshin’s son. I thought if I helped you, I would earn your forgiveness… And then, I would finally be able to forgive myself.”
“That’s selfish of you.”
“I know.”
“I’m not judging you.” Kazuma looked away, facing the wall once again. “I spent ten years hating a faceless person, who I blamed for everything that was wrong in my life. Now that it’s over, I don’t know how to feel anything but anger. I don’t know how to keep living.” He paused, continuing in a lower voice. “I wanted you to give me a reason… One single reason to put an end to everything.”
“I know. And I won’t give you one.”
“You shouldn’t…” Kazuma smiled bitterly. “You don’t need another death weighing on your consciousness. I was just desperate to blame it all on someone… It’s the only thing I know how to do.”
“I understand… I spent years of my life seeking reasons to end my life. I became terrified of myself…” He hesitated briefly. “I once drank until I lost my senses, and woke up with my gun in hand. I got rid of it after that… I didn’t know what I could do if I kept it.”
Kazuma stared at him, unsure if he was more surprised by the confession or his calm tone. “I’m sorry…”
Barok shook his head. “I didn’t say that to earn your compassion. I simply wanted you to know that I understand what you’re going through. At least in part.”
Still, to imagine how that man must have felt to get to that point… “Lord van Zieks…”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry. I imagine how difficult it all is for you right now, and I didn’t make things any easier. I truly regret it.”
Barok’s expression relaxed a little. “I understand, and I forgive you. I can only hope that, someday, you might forgive me as well.”
“I want to… I just don’t know if I can. I understand it wasn’t your fault, but this is stronger than me.” He took a deep breath. “But I’ll try… I’ll keep trying.”
“This is more than I could have asked for.”
When Kazuma woke up, the sun had just started to rise. He looked to the side: Barok was still there, asleep on that same position. That didn’t seem comfortable… He could have left, now that they had sorted things out. There was no reason to stay there.
Still, that wasn’t surprising: Barok had always been like that, even back in his nameless apprentice days—when he had no guilt to motivate his actions—he was always there, quietly looking over him.
With a bittersweet feeling in his chest, Kazuma sat on the bed, moving closer to Barok, carefully touching his arm. “Lord van Zieks…”
Barok opened his eyes, seeming lost for a moment, until he looked at Kazuma. “Oh… Forgive me, I fell asleep.”
“You should go home and rest properly.” Noticing his reluctant expression, Kazuma offered him a smile. “Don’t worry… I’ll be fine.”
Barok simply looked at him for a while, thinking. “Would you mind spending some time in my residence?”
That question was enough to light up the anxiety in his chest again. “Why?”
“I wouldn’t be at peace if I left you alone right now.”
Kazuma lowered his gaze. “You know how this will end.”
“I won’t let it happen again. I promise.” Receiving no answer, Barok added. “Only for a few days. If you feel too uncomfortable there, we can return here.”
“You plan to come back with me?”
Barok nodded. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you while you’re under my care.”
Something in his words caught Kazuma’s attention. “Not Genshin this time?”
“As harsh as your words were, there was truth to them. Genshin isn’t here anymore… He cannot offer me forgiveness for what I did. But it doesn’t change how I once considered him a good friend.” He paused, looking at Kazuma. “And you…”
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to forgive me, either. Just, please, allow me to help you in what little ways I can… You shouldn’t be going through this on your own.”
He said all that as if he wasn’t suffering as well…
“You don’t need to do this,” said Kazuma.
“Only for today, then. If you feel better tomorrow and prefer to be alone, I won’t insist again.”
Kazuma still didn’t like the idea, but one day seemed like a fair enough deal.
“Fine.”
They left his apartment a few minutes later, stopping on their way to Barok’s mansion to eat something. Having warm food in his stomach made Kazuma finally realize how hungry he was; he used to complain that Barok didn’t take proper care of himself, but it seemed that he wasn’t much better, after all—but Barok didn’t mention it, so neither did he.
From there, they made their way straight to Barok’s residence. Walking inside that place after almost two weeks brought him a strange sensation of relief, as if part of him still thought of it as his home.
“You can stay in your old bedroom,” said Barok. “Please, let me know if you need anything.”
Kazuma agreed. He had feared that Barok would stay glued to him during his entire stay, so it was a relief to be given some space. Besides… Despite not being in the same room, sharing a place with another living being, if only for a day, was a welcome change.
His bedroom in the van Zieks mansion was exactly how he left it. He fell over the bed, unable to hold back a slight smile at how comfortable it was. How he had missed that place… Maybe not even the place itself, but the feeling of belonging somewhere.
He rolled to his side, thinking. Even without a single memory of his past, he was so much happier back then, living with Barok… He used to think that, as long as he had his mentor by his side, things would find a way to sort themselves out. His chest hurt: why had things changed so much since then?
If only he had talked to Barok after his memories returned… Listened to his side of things, instead of jumping to conclusions. That could have saved the two of them some unnecessary pain.
However, when he thought better about it, there was the possibility that Barok would be the one not wanting to listen to his words… It was easy to forget it now, but at the time, that hatred was mutual.
Either way, there was nothing they could do about it. Kazuma still couldn’t forgive Barok, but he didn’t want that man to keep suffering either. And, more than anything, Kazuma didn’t want to go back to how he was… He wanted to move on, away from that life filled with nothing but anger and despair.
As hard as he tried, he doubted those negative feelings would ever leave him for good. It was painful… It was unfair… Yet, as Barok said, they could do nothing but try to leave the past behind and keep going.
And, no matter what happened from then on, he would keep going.