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The British night air was cold. But you would not be blamed for saying that the inside of the carriage on that faithful night was colder. The Reaper and his disciple travelled in their typical silence, the day’s events allowed to wash over them as they both mulled them over.
That man. The Masked Disciple couldn’t help but think about him. That student from Japan, the way he looked at him, it had a gentleness and a level of affection behind it. His dark hair had an unruly messiness to it which was deeply endearing. He seemed nice, kind, if a little oblivious at times. There was no harm in him, not one bit. Not intentional anyway. He’d been glad to be facing away from him and the small girl accompanying him, as they’d gone on their unwitting tirade around the office against Lord Van Zieks. Had he been watching them, he’d have been unable to maintain his professional composure.
Funny, really. First he felt as if he could not remove his gaze from the man as he stood awkwardly in Lord Van Zieks office. Now he felt as if he couldn’t remove him from his thoughts. There was something so warm, so familiar, so comfortable about his presence. That comfort felt distant to him in London, like it was a land in which he didn’t belong. Yet it was the only place he could really remember in any sense. Maybe that’s why a part of him was looking forward to tomorrow in court, when he’d finally see him again. With his dark, scholarly garb and that red headband that fluttered on his side, he was sure he’d spot him at some point.
Ever discontent with the silence, he turned to the window on his left, the weak light of the gas lamps dotted across the street illuminating the corners and shapes of the buildings, casting long shadows behind whatever figures crept beneath them. He watched absentmindedly, looking for figures wandering the street. That was one of the things he actually enjoyed about these silent travels, watching the different people gone by. There went a noble lady, excessive feathers adorning her hat as her legs shifted swiftly, clutching her purse in worry. A gentleman strode behind her, his nerves less visible, but his grip on the brim of his hat was certainly tighter than what you’d typically expect. Then, metres behind them, ran a small girl with pink pigtails and a wide skirt, followed clumsily by a man in black, a red ribbon flowing by his side.
Wait a moment.
No, that was them. The small girl from before and the lawyer, the disciple was certain of it. He leaned forward, straining his neck to watch them as they ran. Panicked and stumbling, the grown man seemed to be following the small girl in pigtails, turning sharply into an unlit alley on their left. Not far behind them a flock of men followed, lurching forward towards them. Disorganised in their speed, some desperately trying to keep up, their clothes rough and torn, their hats mostly covering their faces.
By this point, Lord Van Zieks had finally taken notice of the window and joined him, watching with an unmoving expression on his face. The disciple felt his heart drop as those pursuing the pair turned into the same alley that they did.
“That dingy little alley is a dead end. It leads to nowhere.” Lord Van Zieks muttered to himself. He looked at his apprentice for a moment, reading what little he could of his face, before moving back away from the window. The disciple continued to watch as the whole group had filed into the small entranceway, disappearing into a veil of darkness. He felt utterly sick to his stomach, he couldn’t just sit in this carriage and watch from a safe distance. He had to go save him, that man. His disposition was one of clumsiness, could he really defend himself from this?
His mind was set, as was his heart. He turned to reach for his cloak, finding it being offered to him from the arms of the Reaper. The carriage had begun to slow to a halt as the horses’ hooves fell slower before coming to a stop. The pair exited the carriage in their typical silence, descending quickly upon the dark alleyway ahead.
***
It was very rare that Ryunosuke was glad for the coldness of the London nights, but it just happened that this night was one of them. The icy air gave relief to how flushed he felt running for so long. He’d dared to look back roughly three streets ago, and their pursuers were still there. He didn’t think his stamina could handle him turning around once more, and he was sure he could still hear their footsteps.
“How are we- going to lose them- Runo?” Iris asked between breaths, her small lungs pushing out could have steam in front of her face.
“I’m- really not sure- they just- won’t stop-“ He panted back, feeling the fatigue of all the exercise beginning to seep into his muscles.
“We don’t even- know why- they’re following us. It must be- something really important.” Iris gasped. And she wasn’t really right, because Ryunosuke knew exactly why they were so insistent on following them.
They’d needed to stop by a small tea shop on their way home to pick up some specialty leaves that Iris was dying to try. As they’d left, their pursuers had begun to trail behind them, out of sight, but ever behind them. It hadn’t taken Ryunosuke long to notice them. Random groups of men following him around London wasn’t unusual, he did carry a massive blade by his side at all times, but this time was different. Their faces had been gruff and dirty, some littered with scars and bruises. And they weren’t looking at him constantly.
No, he’d caught their gazes on him a few times. But they were more often than not watching Iris, grinning and whispering. So, in a move he would have to give credit to Sholmes for, he’d slowed his pace down just enough to overhear what they were saying, while still watching Iris as he did.
“We can take the bloke, grab the kid, right?” One of the men had said with a unsettling sense of enthusiasm
“Yeah, yeah. ‘e doesn’t look like much. But ‘e’s one of ‘em Japanese by the looks of it, they’re decent in a fight, ‘ave ‘em massive sword thingys an’ all.” One of the others had replied, as Ryunosuke felt his hand drift down to the hilt of Karuma. He’d never used it in a fight, and didn’t plan on it. But it might just dissuade them from trying anything further.
“‘Massive sword thingys’, ya mean - a sword, mate?” A new voice teased gruffly
“Nah, nah. There’s a proper word for it. A real fancy one an’ all-“
“If you two are done.” The first voice said with chilling authority. Ryunosuke felt his fingers, slightly numbed by the cold, grip around Karuma tighter as he spoke.
“The kid’s gotta be worth a pretty penny on ransom. What, with that dress and them curls, she’s someone rich’s darlin’. So it should go without saying, but the kid comes as unharmed as we can. We find out who her parents are, they cough up for her safety and all.”
“Yeah, nice plan, but what about the fella? I mean, he must be her protection, right?” A fourth voice chimed, their seemingly ever increasing number making Ryunosuke’s heart beat at a deafening volume
“And what if the kidda dinnit know who ‘er parents are. ‘Appened before like. Messy business that was.” The second voice joined back in. There was, at most, four of them, by Ryunosuke’s glances. Although he made his glances as swift as possible, so he barely had time to look at the men properly. They were all a bit taller than him, some with much broader shoulders. If it truly came down to a fight, Ryunosuke was not liking his chances.
The first man, who had the air of a ringleader, didn’t speak for a little while, only his laboured breathing being audible.
“Well, the bloke’ll know, won’t ‘e? We can’t kill ‘im, not with that Reaper still floating about. So we rough ‘im up a bit, toss ‘im to the side, get our money from the kid. There. Solved both’ve your problems.”
Ryunosuke caught back up to Iris slowly. It was no use trying to listen in any further, he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his mind screaming. Iris hadn’t even noticed he’d crept back and was too happy with her purchase to notice the extra footsteps and voices that had been tailing them for too long by this point.
There was a lot wrong here. Firstly, Ryunosuke was not capable enough to protect Iris and himself, but they were under the impression he was, in some twisted way, as if he was capable of protecting someone in a professional capacity.
Also, they thought Iris was the daughter of some rich Lord or Lady, which was unfortunately untrue. She was the child of Herlock Sholmes, a famous, and currently close to penniless, great consulting detective. Even combining Ryunosuke’s stipend and Sholmes’ wages from his new job, they’d be unlikely to match the kidnapper’s demands.
That’s what they were, kidnappers. Professional ones by the sounds of it. Ryunosuke heard the murmur of their voices disappear, the silence making every hair on his body rise. He subtly slipped his hand into the gloved one of Iris without saying anything.
“Runo? What’s wrong?” She asked, looking directly at his face, which must have been one of obvious stress and panic.
“We’re being followed.” He said, deciding it was best to leave out the why. Iris was mature, having a doctorate, but she was also still ten. No need to cause unnecessary upset.
“When I say so, we have to run. And keep running until we lose them. We can’t lead them back to Baker’s street, got it?” Iris nodded, her grip on his hand becoming tighter as Ryunosuke listened behind them. The mens’ footsteps seems to deviate very little in pace from their own.
Until they did. And the footsteps became quicker and heavier and closer and closer. Ryunosuke whipped his head around to see the group of four, definitely four, now running towards them at a breakneck pace.
“Run. Now”. He managed to shout, before he and Iris were rushing forward through the streets, wind rushing through their ears as they went.
They were still running, Iris’ hand slipping out of Ryunosuke’s as she ran a few strides ahead of him. Her head turned to their right for a moment.
“Through here, Runo. We can lose them in here.” She said as she turned into a shadowy backstreet, the light from the nearest streetlamp barely meeting the mouth of the alley, shrouding it completely in darkness. Ryunosuke didn’t have time to argue as Iris had already barrelled through the shadows and into the darkness, leaving him to follow as closely as he could behind.
They took a left
And a right
And a left
And a left
And a another left
And-
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
Only vaguely visible grey bricks stood in front of them, to the left and to the right, leaving nowhere else to run.
As the sound of those accursed footsteps drew ever closer, it truly sank in.
They were stuck at a dead end.
“I was meant to take a right, not a left.” Iris whispered tearfully. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok. Just get behind me.” He said softly, his voice staying as consistent and confident as it could as he turned to face where they’d came from. He didn’t have to wait long to look properly at their attackers, the four of them turned the corner shortly. They looked unassuming, the kind of people you’d expect to see in any crowd. Their clothes were plain, with their caps and jackets only standing out with the occasional patch or rip along the seams. Their faces were mixed, a couple of them in the back looked apathetic, with the smaller man on the left looking irritated and the largest, a broad and foreboding man with bruises all across what little visible skin he had, had a twisted mix of glee and rage in his eyes. Ryunosuke slipped Karuma out slightly, enough for the metal to be noticeable.
“Just hand over the kid, little fella.” The ringleader growled.
“Stay back.” Ryunosuke managed to cry, his voice giving away how terrified he was. Even if it hadn’t, he was sure his wide eyes and the fact that he was physically shaking would.
“Come ‘ere, little’n. Come and be a good girl for mummy and daddy.” One of the men from behind said, taking slow and purposeful steps forward past the rest of his group. In his hands, a small metal blade flashed in the dim light from a nearby closed window. Iris gripped onto Ryunosuke’s shirt, hiding herself further behind him as the man continued to approach.
“I said stay back.” Ryunosuke repeated, his hands shaking as he dragged Karuma out more and more. The other three, who’d remained mostly stationary up until this moment, nodded amongst themselves and began to inch forward, revealing similarly small weapons of their own. Ryunosuke stepped back, Iris shuffling with him as they grew closer and closer to the cold brick behind them. She whimpered quietly as Ryunosuke looked down at Karuma, looking for someone else. Only his frightened eyes met him.
“When you get an opening, I want you to run, Iris.” He whispered behind him
“But Runo-“
“Run, and try to find whichever officer is on their beat tonight.”
“But you might get hurt all alone here.” He looked down at him. At the blade.
“I’ll be alright. Just focus on yourself.” Finally, he unsheathed Karuma, the strong, curved blade glinting slightly as it moved, standing with the pride of generations. It felt heavy in his hands. Too heavy for him. But its weight was a crutch. And one he desperately needed right now. The kidnappers backed off slightly, their eyes now locked on the sword as Ryunosuke held it as still as he could to hide how furiously his hands were shaking. Iris’ grip loosened as she readied herself.
“Now!”
Ryunosuke charged forward, moving towards the left where the more forthcoming man had approached. He waved his knife weakly in their direction, still moving backwards as he did.
“Go, quickly!” Ryunosuke called, putting himself and Karuma between the now sprinting Iris and their attackers. Any sense of doubt or caution had morphed into something much darker. Anger. Four on one, or two, however you counted it, it still a disadvantage.
But thats what you’d do, wouldn’t you, ‘partner’? Ryunosuke thought, breathing as he felt the comforting squeeze of his armband.
I hope you’re watching over me, Kazuma. Because I really need you right now!
***
They crept silently through the shadows, as they always did. Their swords were already bared as they kept their footsteps light, following the gang of men through the disorienting backstreets.
“We shouldn’t engage with any fighting until necessary. The sudden change in their advantage may cause them to act more rashly, leading to unnecessary casualties.” Lord Van Zieks said in a low tone, as to not be overheard. His disciple knew he was right. But some sort of instinct inside of him wanted to just rush in and save him. And the girl. God, there was an actual child involved in all of this and his focus was on saving the lawyer with a sword? It was ridiculous. It went against every ideal he was being taught under Van Zieks.
And yet, it was the most normal and familiar he had felt for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t just let that go for some reason. He begrudgingly continued in the echoing silence to follow on the heel of Lord Van Zieks, listening closely. They didn’t hear much at first, discontent but low voices, then they heard it. The lawyer, he yelled something out loud. His voice had this piercing projection that was recognisable by the sounds of it. The yelling put him on edge for some reason, making him lurch forward suddenly. An arm flew in front of him just as suddenly, halting his movement as it pushed against his chest, pushing it back.
“Wait.” He commanded, with the patronising tone of training a disobedient dog.
So he waited, though the night seemed to be running faster tonight as he didn’t need to wait long at all. Small footsteps pounded against the ground, too small to be an adult for sure. Gasping for air and panicking, the small girl with the pink, curly pigtails turned the corner sharply, coming face to face with the Reaper and his apprentice, who, as much as they tried to hide out of sight, were surprisingly visible in the dark. She froze in front of them, her mouth open wide as she screamed.
***
He swung the blade cautiously, keeping more than an arm’s length between him and his attackers. None of them had mustered the courage to approach any further. If they did, they’d soon realise that they were facing someone who had lacklustre skills in combat. His aim wasn’t to wound, just to hold back long enough for the authorities to arrive. Or long enough for Iris to get far away enough. He didn’t need to be anything but enough in this moment.
“Just tell us who the kid is, mate.”
Ryunosuke said nothing. Daughter of a poverty-stricken detective isn’t what they’d want to hear right now.
“C’mon, mate. Is this really worth getting hurt over?” The ringleader said, approaching slowly as Ryunosuke backed up. His stride was oozing with confidence as he got within striking distance. Numb fingers hanging desperately around the hilt, Ryunosuke couldn’t bring himself to swing it.
“Don’t.” He said as threateningly as he could manage, backing up further and further.
“Or what?” He taunted, moving even closer.
And still he was paralysed. He couldn’t strike him down. Tainting the blade would be sacrilegious, that’s what he was telling himself. That it wasn’t just some oversized knife, but Kazuma’s sword.
His katana.
His soul.
He couldn’t just hurt someone with it, or worse.
Then came the scream. It cut through the air, evoking pure fear in its tones. A little girl’s screams. Ryunosuke panicked, loosening his posture as he turned behind him to cry out.
“Iris?!”
Then his grip on the hilt fell looser; too loose. The leader had darted forward and hit his hand, the sound of metal clattering against the ground echoing in Ryunosuke’s ears as the safe gap between the two of them closed.
Their knives didn’t feel very small when your sword’s been kicked away from you.
He knocked Ryunosuke down to the ground, constricting his body with his own weight as cold steel was pressed against his side, digging slowly through the fibres of his jacket, ripping them apart as it went.
“Who’s little Iris’ parents then?” He growled, pressing the knife closer towards the skin. Ryunosuke squirmed, wiggling his arms and flailing his legs incoherently as the weight on his body pressed heavier and heavier.
“Not know the words, eh? Or ‘as a cat got ya tongue?” He grinned, the knife slicing deeper and deeper, now resting against skin.
“Don’t you dare.” Ryunosuke said between gritted teeth, tilting his head meekly in search of Karuma. His hands scraped across the sharp, stony floor, finding nothing beneath his fingers. Fingers dug deep into his scalp, dragging his face to be inches away from his attacker’s, his eyes now only focused on Ryunosuke.
“Bossin’ me around now? You’re ‘ardly in a position to, mate. I’ll show ya, don’t you worry.” He spat, removing the knife from Ryunosuke’s side, leaving the faintest of white scratches on his side before pushing it instead against his neck, twisting it slightly so small beads of blood formed, lining the top of the blade.
“Boss, i’n this a bit much? The kid could’a found a copper or somethin’ by now.” One of the meeker kidnappers said. The three lackeys had been watching the entire time, knives still at hand, but they’re stances ones of reservation and caution. Their boss sighed, still pressing a helpless Ryunosuke down against the ground as he reluctantly removed the knife from against his neck. He looked down on Ryunosuke, a sneer on his mouth.
“You’re right.” He relented, his position unchanging as he inspected the specks of blood on his knife, tilting it in his hand to catch what little light he could
“But ‘e’s seen our faces. We cannot ‘ave that.” His grip on Ryunosuke’s skull tightened, pushing his head further down as his other arm raised, knife pointed down.
Oh no.
Ryunosuke tried pushing himself up, scrambling desperately as he waved his legs in the hope that they’d collide with something. Through the air, not hitting anything they went. He wanted to scream, yell, shout, bite if he could. Yet his voice was trapped, lodged in his throat with a lump of dread he couldn’t swallow.
“Boss, I-I’m sure there’s a way we can get ‘im not to tell. I mean, you’re the one who was all worried about that Reaper bloke an’ all.” One of the lackeys said, taking slow steps towards them.
“And if nobody says anythin’, we don’t get out to trial. Reaper can’t reach us if we don’t step foot in the Old Bailey.” He said, looking down at Ryunosuke as he tried desperately to push him off, wrapping his fingers around the arm holding him down and shoving it away, but it didn’t budge. The other arm raised slightly, before descending swiftly down into his side, the stab of pain rippling throughout his body as as let out a shout of fear. His attacker dragged the knife back out, his blood still warm and dripping off of it, splashing back down and soaking into his jacket.
“Tell us who the kid is.”
***
The small girl let out a sharp scream, piercing through their ears before she covered her own mouth, her eyes widening with apology.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Reaper. Your face is just terrifying to see in dark alleys.” She whispered as Lord Van Zieks made no effort to hide his displeasure.
“As truly delightful as it is that your predisposition to insulting me is not limited to my office, I believe some explanation as to why you were chased into a dark backstreet at such a late hour.” He said in a hushed tone, placing a hand on her shoulder and guiding her gently away, back out of the alley.
“They started following us a little while back. I think-“ she paused, stopping walking as she looked at the ground, her eyes fluttering rapidly.
“-I think that they wanted to kidnap me. ” She choked, her whole body shaking with fear as her eyes remained locked on the ground. Lord Van Zieks looked hesitant at first, turning to his disciple for assistance. He only got back a look of pure apathy. Sighing, he slid a gloved hand into the now sniffling little girl’s, bringing her watery eyes up to his own icy cold ones.
“Iris, was it?” He asked as softly as a man of his stature could. She nodded, her eyes filled with tears and curiosity. “How many men were there when you were cornered?” He asked. They already knew the answer, four. But, if any of them had slipped away, still lingering in the shadows, they needed to know.
“Four. Runo’s distracting them with his katana so I can go and get the police.” She said
“‘Distracting’? Would the more appropriate description be defending, or even attacking?” Van Zieks asked
“No. He won’t hurt any of them.” Iris said with certainty.
Won’t.
Not can’t. Not as in he wouldn’t try, put up a fight, but won’t.
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t like knives. Or guns. Or weapons. And he’s always worried about getting in trouble.” She admitted, the adults sharing one long, look in silence.
A temporary silence as a new scream tore through it, a lower pitch than Iris’, but still one of pure terror.
“Runo?!”
The disciple whipped his head around, looking to Lord Van Zieks with a new determination. No matter what he said next, his path was set. Van Zieks looked at him with some scrutiny, before relenting.
“Can you handle the four of them on your own?” He asked, receiving a curt nod in reply.
“Alright then. I’ll assist Miss Iris in finding the authorities and getting home. You can use the carriage to get Mr. Naruhodo somewhere safe. Do what you deem necessary.” He said, his grip tightening on the small girl as he directly led her away, her watery eyes looking behind her at where the yell had came from.
They left the disciple alone with the low murmurings of the other men. He crept as silently as he did everything else, approaching the crowd unnoticed. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the scene, three men huddled behind, all looking concerned. With two on the floor, one man pinning someone with dark hair to the floor with one hand, his other holding a knife dripping a dark red.
“C’mon mate, just tell us who the kid is.” The man pinning someone to the ground growled, baring his teeth.
“B-boss, we don’t need to do this. The kid’s probably gone home or- or gotten the police!” A man stood behind him said, his face one of concern.
“Well then, we can’t be leaving them any witnesses…” the first man said, raising the knife higher in the air. The man he was pinning down began to squirm furiously, his limbs flailing in any direction they could as he panicked. With his dark clothes and the circumstances, the disciple had already figured out that the man on the floor was the lawyer from Japan. He saw the glint of the blade as it rose and charged, his heart leading his mind.
***
The knife rose up in the air again.
His entire body was screaming in pain, the agony of it all unbearable. Time felt frozen as he watched the blade move higher, hovering briefly above him. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the descent into his body. Then he didn’t feel it, instead the weight holding him down was ripped away suddenly, the fingers in his hair slipping away. He opened his eyes, looking above him to see a the blur of a brown cloak as it collided with the man above him, barrelling through him. The agony seeping into his bones, Ryunosuke used his newfound freedom to roll himself away towards the direction Karuma had been tossed. He felt around for it, his hand luckily landing on the hilt as he slid it back to his side. The three men who had previously been gormless witnesses had begun to flee past him, taking no notice of him as he shuffled around on the floor. He peered over to his saviour, a man in a brown cloak and tight, white shirt, his matching white mask covering most of his face.
Lord Van Zieks disciple. The man who was the spitting image of-
“Ahh.” Ryunosuke hissed, the adrenaline of the situation beginning to loose its edge as the pain cut back through. He tried to get himself into a more maintainable position, moving himself so that he was leaning against the cold, brick walls. He covered his wound with one hand, the fingers of the other trying to hook themselves into the gaps between the brick, finding a grip by which to help himself stand. The skin on his hand scraped against them fruitlessly, leaving shallow scratches in their wake. He crumpled down against the wall, moving both hands to his side and covering it, hiding it from his own view. His gasps for air felt strained as he curled in on himself, a wave of nausea and pain hitting him all at once.
***
The apprentice flew through the air, barrelling through the man and toppling him to the ground. He knocked his small knife out of his hand, sending it sliding with a clatter across the ground. The previously apprehensive men crowded around the scene began to flee, tripping over their own feet as they looked back in horror. The disciple kept their leader pinned to the ground, one hand holding him down by the head, the other brandishing his sword inches from the man’s face. He watched slowly as the man’s wild, animal anger faded into a fear. Fear for his life.
“P-please, I-I weren’t thinkin’ straight, please.” He pleaded, his eyes following the sword as it swayed gently above him. The disciple looked down at him for a moment, before turning his sword swiftly so the bottom of the hilt pointed to the ground as he slammed it into the man’s nose with excessive force, leaving him unconscious. It would be a waste to kill him, better to let him face the Old Bailey instead.
Listening to the sound of his own breathing, he hovered over the unconscious figure, his nose now dented and bent out of shape with a growing bruise on it. His heart was roaring in his ears, arms quivering slightly. He allowed himself a moment to calm before rising back to his feet, sheathing his sword and turning to face behind him in the alleyway.
To his left, he saw him, his face lit lowly by a nearby lantern. His hair tousled more than usual as his dark clothes were stained a deep black in a ring around his left side, where the knife had been plunged. He tried to use the large bricks behind him to steady himself and lift himself to his feet to no avail, instead collapsing back onto the floor and leaning back, each breath he took being interrupted by a soft whimper of pain at the end. The disciple approached him slowly, his footsteps making very little noise as he went and loomed silently over him.
Had he not been laying against the wall, the lawyer would have certainly jumped backwards in shock when he looked up to see the cloaked figure above him. The disciple said nothing, instead crouching down and silently moving the man’s hands away from his wound.
“Your gloves- they-they’re white-“ he gasped, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his emotion contained as the disciple ignored him, scoffing internally at the sentiment. He wanted nothing more than to retort the man, point out the danger posed by the spilling of blood from his body, but he didn’t, instead choosing to gently peel back some of his dark jacket to expose the wound to the air. It was a narrow wound, hitting the side meaning that it hadn’t hit anything vital. His finger brushed against it, the lawyer’s body revolting backwards in pain as he did. He grabbed the lawyer’s hands again, silently moving them back to covering his wound as he lifted the man to his feet.
“Thank you.” He mumbled, stumbling a bit as he rose. He had tried to walk forward, only making it as far as the disciple as he needed to lean against him, making a low groan. The disciple just sighed and evaluated the man for a moment, his build oddly familiar. Somehow, he was certain he could carry him. His arm slipping under his legs, he lifted the woozy man into the air as he made a small noise of surprise.
“-m sorry, -zuma.” The man mumbled something incoherently into his shirt as he curled himself up into a small ball in the disciple’s arms, his hands covering the gaping wound as much as they could. He held the man firmly, his weight feeling nice to hold despite the circumstances. The only thing he could focus on as the man fell asleep in his arms was getting him to safety.
***
A stinging pain in his side greeted him as he awoke, his head heavy and difficult to move. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, finding his arms too weak to do so.
“You’d be better staying lay down, or else you’ll bleed out all over my seats.” A voice grumbled at him. Ryunosuke turned to the source, letting out a girlish squeal as the brooding face of the Reaper was inches from his own. Lord Van Zieks sighed, scowling down at Ryunosuke as he tried to blink off the fuzziness entangling his mind.
“Where exactly… am I?”
“The back of my carriage. Remain relatively still, you’ll undo the bandages.” He said. Ryunosuke looked down at himself. He’d had his jacket removed, leaving just his white shirt, a large portion of which his blood had seeped into, dyeing it red. The full extent of which he couldn’t see, as a large chunk of his torso had been covered with a scratchy piece of cloth, woven around him repeatedly. He’d been spread across one seat, his neck slightly crooked to accommodate it. Across from him sat two men, the Reaper and his masked apprentice, both watching him in silence. He looked around them, not finding another soul, panic rising in his chest.
“Iris, I heard her scream, what-?”
“You heard her scream at my face.” Lord Van Zieks spat, his disciple trying to hide his subtle smile.
“She has been returned to your residence at Bakers Street, unharmed.”
“How did I-?” Ryunosuke began to ask, straining himself to point down at his bandages.
“My apprentice carried you out of the alley and to qualified medical personnel. You have multiple stitches, so be careful how you move.” With shaky arms, Ryunosuke propped himself up into a sitting position, turning himself slowly to face the men across from him. Van Zieks raised a single brow at him as he did.
“Will I still be able to stand in court tomorrow?” He asked
“If you can stand tomorrow, then I suppose you can.” Van Zieks said, now uninterested, his gaze drifting out of the window.
“And where are we going?” Ryunosuke asked further
“To Bakers Street. Due to roadworks, our route has become extended, so it will take us some time.” Van Zieks said, his tone more curt as he felt his patience being tested. Ryunosuke shrunk into himself, following his lead with the silence. His eyes focused on the masked man who had saved him, his white gloves still sullied with his blood. His eyes never strayed from Ryunosuke it seemed, piercing through him as if peering into the very depths of his soul. He tried to ignore it, choosing to endure the icy ride home in silence.
The carriage jostled around suddenly, knocking Ryunosuke around more than he would like to admit. His breath was uneasy as he tried to steady himself again, his grip against the chair tightening as he did. He didn’t dare look up at Van Zieks or his apprentice, who he was certain were watching him, instead focusing on their feet across from him.
Until one set moved, crossing the gap and placing themselves next to him. He looked up to see the masked figure had settled himself away from Van Zieks and next to himself, placing an arm around him to hold him in place. He could feel his cheeks growing redder as he focused more intensely on the shoes, daring not to look up for embarrassment yet again.
***
The disciple rode next to the lawyer in silence, as was typical for any journeys he took. The man reserved himself to his inner musings, choosing to end his continuous questioning and staring at the floor, not looking up.
He cleared his throat, having calmed himself and looking up at the very unamused Lord Van Zieks, who wore a look of apathy.
“The men, who attacked us in the alley.” He began, body shivering. “What happened to them?”
“Apprehended by policemen. Their ringleader was found unconscious.” Lord Van Zieks said, throwing a heavy look to the disciple. The lawyer seemed satisfied enough with that answer. He continued his silence, only interrupting himself with the chattering of teeth, his skin prickling up. The disciple examined him closely, his thin shirt not giving him much protection from the bitter English night. The disciple pulled him in closer, wrapping him partially in his cloak. The man didn’t resist, not moving unless moved as he seemed shocked. Lord Van Zieks said nothing, as was typical, but looked at his apprentice with great scrutiny. His apprentice ignored it, squeezing the man’s arm in what he assumed to be a comforting manner and leaning his head to the side, against the man’s shoulder.
He watched as the lawyer left their care, his now tattered jacket under his arm and his sword back by his side. His eyes looked dull and drained, the tired smile he gave not enough to crack through it. They watched him enter the threshold of the house before travelling away, their silence returning as the disciple looked down at his gloves, splotches of red soaking them.
“You needn’t worry over the gloves, I’ll acquire a replacement pair for you.” He didn’t reply, looking still at his hands.
The man had apologised to him, calling him something, a name. He most likely would never hear it again, but something about it resonated inside of him, ringing inside his soul. He didn’t truly know why, but one thing was for certain:
The apprentice was looking forward to watching the court proceedings tomorrow.