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“It's about time.”
Kazuma nonchalantly set a letter on the desk.
“I've had enough. I don't want to stay here anymore. I hope you understand, and may grant me your approval.”
Barok picked up the sheet of paper, his eyes flitting across Kazuma’s handwriting. Kazuma wrote like he wield his sword, all firm, clean strokes, the letters gracefully compact, neat and easy to read.
It was a resignation letter.
Barok’s expression shuttered off, the emotions behind it immediately impossible to discern. “How do you mean?”
“Wasn't my letter clear enough, my lord?” Kazuma sneered. “Or perhaps you have contracted a sudden case of onset illiteracy?”
He shrugged, and continued on. “I've had enough of playing a student to you, that is all. It's a complete waste of time for me, and it can't be pleasant for you either, tolerating me. It would be best for the both of us if this came to a stop.”
Barok’s shoulders stiffen, his quill-holding hand stilling in place. His lips parted, and he paused for a long moment, as if aborting the words on the tip of his tongue.
In the end, he simply said: “Fine.”
His nonchalance rivaled that of Kazuma’s. He nodded his head, completely unbothered. “If you no longer wish to be here, I see no reason in forcing you.”
He picked up Kazuma’s letter, signed it with the very quill in his hand, carefully stamped it with the Prosecutor's Office crimson sigil, and then handed it back.
“This should be sufficient, no?” Barok asked just for the sake of asking, his tone too flat for a real question. He didn't even look at Kazuma again before turning back to his paperwork.
How he could act so unconcerned before his only apprentice’s massive decision was beyond Kazuma. Once the surprise had passed, Kazuma frowned.
“Don't you have anything else to say?” he asked, his voice dropping low.
“Nothing in particular,” Barok said in a monotonous voice, not even lifting his head to spare Kazuma a glance. It seemed the report and paperwork had his full attention, and nothing else mattered.
“You really don't want to question me back?” Irritation was beginning to flare. Kazuma kept it hidden, but only barely, as he ground out, “Don't have anything to ask at all?”
“Didn't you already give me an explanation just now? Any question of mine would end up quite redundant, I think.” Barok finally looked up at him, his eyes as coldly calm as a frozen lake. His noble face, ever graceful, showed not a single emotion.
It infuriated Kazuma, the more he looked.
“Well, Lord van Zieks, I am very ready to answer all the questions you don't deign to ask out loud!” He slammed the table.
“First of all, I can't stand your face.” Kazuma’s mouth twisted bitterly.
Barok trembled almost imperceptibly.
“Your arrogant, holier-than-thou attitude really grates on my nerves. And what's with that blasé look on your face at all times? You think being aloof makes you more distinguished?”
Kazuma said in a flurry, then huffed and finally quieted down as he crossed his arms. He observed Barok’s expression.
“How very unfair it has been for you.” There wasn't a hint of anger in Barok’s voice, not even the smallest sign of irritation on his face. He spoke steadily, his tone flat and unwavering. “I didn't realize I'd wronged you so much during all of our time spent together. My deepest apologies, the fault lies with me.”
“What are you saying?” Kazuma staggered.
“I shall make haste to arrange you a spot with another senior prosecutor of London, as well as prepare a personal recommendation letter from myself. Hopefully your new mentor would suit you better than I. I wish you nothing but success in your career, Prosecutor Asogi.”
“Barok van Zieks, you would…!?”
“It is quite late, I think,” Barok cut him off, the way he never did. “You are free to leave starting from this moment, and I'm confident that you could begin work at your new position as soon as tomorrow morning.”
He didn't look at Kazuma anymore. He looked down at his paperwork, entirely unaffected.
“There is no need to finish whatever remains of your work here. You may go now – I imagine you would like to have some rest after packing your belongings.”
Kazuma's fists tightened.
“Is that it?” he almost growled. Perhaps part of him still hoped that Barok would react – but such hopes were futile. “Well, then! Splendid! You surprised me with your kindness, my lord!”
He turned tail, footfall heavy as he stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Leaving Barok alone with mountains of work unfinished.
________________________________
Not long after their row (or, rather than a ‘row’, one should call it a series of Kazuma’s one-sided attempts at provocation and Barok’s impassive responses), Kazuma began to feel guilty.
He really only intended to joke around a little bit; tell a grand lie just to see the look of panic on Barok’s face before smiling and soothing Barok’s worries… Yet somehow, it had turned into this. All because of his big mouth.
It really had gone too far, it seemed.
April’s Fools? To hell with it, Kazuma thought bitterly, sighing through his nose. He swore to himself he would never listen to Gina Lestrade and her damnable anecdotes ever ever again. Look what all that talk about ‘pranks’ had done to him! What was he to do now?!
Kazuma’s head fell between his hands, his fingers tugging helplessly at his hair in frustration and obvious guilt.
No, he shouldn't place the blame on others. Gina told him about April's Fools, but the lie and the way he handled Barok's reaction was all on him. He was the one who let his temper get the better of him and said injurious words. It would be more than reasonable to apologize, and he was ready to do so.
Kazuma considered it carefully, as though devising court strategies.
He could still salvage it if he went to explain himself right now.
Kazuma sighed again and, with resolve, rose to his feet. It was time to find Barok.
_______________________________
It was well into the night by the time Kazuma found his venerable master. He had searched the entire manor before he came upon the guest bedroom inside which Barok had stowed himself.
The entire room smelled of alcohol. The usually pleasant aroma of wine coalesced into something strong and far more bitter than sweet. Even from the door Kazuma could see empty bottles and chalices scattered across the floor, though the majority of them formed a little berth around the man in the room.
Barok sat on the bed, his head lolling forward. He was beyond tipsy at this point.
This couldn't be good.
“Have you finished packing?” Barok asked, his tone cool and as unruffled as ever. There was only the slightest waver to be heard in his voice.
“Uh, well… About that…” Kazuma scratched the back of his head, internally cursing at himself for his foolish little feat. He stepped closer, painful guilt rising in his heart like tides of glass shards. “There is something I need to tell you, really…”
Barok picked up a bottle with one large hand, his long, slender fingers as elegant as ever. But they don't belong there, wrapped around a beverage that he had had far too much of, and Kazuma frowned.
Out of worry, he acted without thinking. “It's time to stop. You've had a lot to drink, haven't you?”
He held Barok’s wrist and pried the bottle out of his hand.
“Give it back!” Barok exclaimed, all the finesse gone in his annoyed, slurring voice as he leaned forward and tried to take the bottle. Kazuma didn't let him.
“No,” Kazuma said sternly. “What are you doing? Don't act like a child now.”
“And what does that have to do with you, pray tell? You cannot tell me what to do.”
Barok rarely got drunk. Intoxication made him act juvenile, easy to provoke – the complete opposite of his usual cool, calm and collected demeanor. But he had never allowed himself to go this far. Perhaps the earlier fight had added to the stress, made him even more prone to lashing out.
It was as though all of his usual patience had been converted into outward irritation, almost hostile.
“Barok, please, listen to me…”
“I won't! I don't want to!” Barok pressed his hands to his ears and shook his head profusely.
How very childish. If the situation wasn't so dire, Kazuma might have found it very endearing. As it stood, he still had to explain the misunderstanding stemming from his own foolishness, yet it was nigh impossible to get through to Barok when he was drunk and stubborn like this.
He could frankly weep from frustration.
“Wait, calm down, listen to me…”
“Don't you loathe me to the core? Why waste time here – just leave! Get me out of your sights!”
Barok’s voice rose to a shuddering cry. It was more emotion than he'd ever shown; a shame that said emotion was resentment, and pain. Like a volcano that had gone dormant for too long, he erupted.
“No, that's not…”
“No? But didn't you say it yourself? You called me unbearable, said my attitude was unpleasant, quite frankly you i-insulted me…”
Kazuma slapped a hand over his forehead, beyond angry with himself. Barok was still hung up on Kazuma’s failed attempt at an April's Fools lie – and, quite honestly, he had every right to.
Barok slumped as he continued to speak, his eyes red and glistening with unshed tears. His lips trembled, the corners of his mouth etched with a deep frown. He was veritably wounded.
“I know you must be unhappy here. I know you have nothing but distaste for me…”
Kazuma shrank in his spot. Good Lord, even a valedictorian of the faculty of law wouldn't be able to get himself out of this misunderstanding.
“But I hurt, too, alright? I can feel pain, can feel sorrow, like everyone! I never wanted to say these things, yet you keep bringing up the matter and it… is a lot to bear…”
This was all Kazuma's fault. He really shouldn't have spoken without thinking like that. His nails dug crescents into his palms as he stared at the pink hues dusting Barok’s face, the brimming tears at the corners of his eyes. He had to say something now, but he really couldn't get a word in while Barok was so upset...
“You could take it out on me with your fists, I wouldn't oppose it. But to choose to leave…”
No, that was supposed to be a prank, I swear!! Kazuma’s mind screamed.
“I wish you'd have told me a little beforehand.” Barok wiped futilely at his tears as he spoke. He was curled in on himself, shoulders trembling visibly, while drop after heavy drop rolled down his cheeks, tear marks overlapping. “So that I could brace myself, that's all I ask…”
Kazuma surrendered. He dived in and gathered Barok to his chest, wrapping his arms securely around him. His lips pressed against Barok, finally stemming the tide of his lamentations.
He pressed Barok down into the mattress. He deepened their kiss, slow and sweet, his tongue slipping past the seam of Barok’s lips. The wine was flavorful, sweet, but none of it could rival the taste of Barok himself.
Barok could do nothing but part his lips and allowed him in. He laid soft and pliant in Kazuma’s arms, trembling a little, his mind blanked out in the kiss. By the time Kazuma drew back, he was breathless and trembling and confused beyond words.
He looked up at Kazuma with wide, tear-filled eyes. The ice had melted on the frozen lake, revealing the clear water beneath, the wounded tenderness in his soul.
“Everything I said earlier was false…” Kazuma began, still picking his words. Nothing he said felt right, no matter how long he spent workshopping them in his mind.
“I don't despise you at all. I don't dislike your face, or your bearings – or anything about you, really… Just, today is April 1st, and I wanted to try lying to you, to see how you'd react, but I truly went too far.”
He took a deep breath, stroking Barok’s soft hair.
“I'm not sick of you, I never was. And I'm not going anywhere. Please don't cry, I'm so, very sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”
Kazuma thumbed at his cheek, wiping the tears on his beautiful face.
“The fault was all mine. I should've known better than to joke about this kind of thing. I will never do it again,” Kazuma said solemnly. “From the bottom of my heart, I apologize. Barok, would you forgive me?”
Barok blinked owlishly, still taking in everything. He pursed his lips, then hesitantly asked: “You really… don't hate me?”
“Absolutely not.”
“And you aren't going to leave?”
“No, I won't leave. I'm your apprentice, only you.”
“Are… are you certain?”
"I am,” Kazuma said firmly. “More than I've been certain about anything in my life. I promise you,” he added, taking Barok’s hand to hook their pinkies together, “I will never lie to you again, ever. And I shall never ask to go away.”
Barok turned pink, mostly from embarrassment. Still, there must be some delight in there, in the curve of his minuscule smile. “That… is good, then,” he murmurs, quiet and shy.
Barok was so honest like this, disarmed and timid. His flushed face was still streaked with tears, and he laid beneath Kazuma without even an ounce of resistance, his chest rising and falling. He was really quite adorable. Kazuma already felt inflamed with…
The giant grandfather clock in the main hall chimed, the ring echoing through the entire manor. Twelve chimes, announcing midnight. The day had ended.
Barok looked a little wistful. He made to sit up. “It is late. You should perhaps get some rest—ah!?”
Kazuma didn't let him rise. He held his hands and pressed him back down into bed.
“It's the end of April's Fools Day.” Kazuma smiled. “From here on, I shall only say truthful words to you. For example…
“I really like your face. I adore your calm expression. You're so beautiful.”
"K-Kazuma!?"
“But of course, I also love it when you smile~” Kazuma grinned. “Not to mention, how alluring your tears are… You do have such a perfect countenance, Barok. I want to admire you forever, never to let you out of sight.”
“That's enough, Kazuma!” Barok’s face has turned a tomato’s shade of red. “That is quite enough joking for a day.”
“But I wasn't joking. I meant every word I said.” Kazuma kisses his hand. He plucked at the buttons on Barok’s shirt, then slipped his hand inside. “Didn’t I just say it? From here on, every word I say to you shall be the truth, and only the truth. Such as…”
He leaned down, breaths puffing against Barok’s ear. “...I love you the most, my dear master.”
Barok jolted a little. Kazuma smiled and kissed the glowing red tip of his ear. “And also… Right now, I would like to lay with you. I would like us to feel as one.”
Barok’s breath hitched, but he didn't push Kazuma off. He only sighed when Kazuma’s hand settled on his naked waist. Kazuma knew he had made the right call.
“So… you wouldn't refuse this sincere wish of mine, would you, my master~?”
End.