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When Asogi had requested to stay in London as Barok’s apprentice, Barok had been stunned. He almost hadn’t agreed to it, but seeing how determined Asogi was led him to accept.
The weeks that followed had felt strange. There was an unspoken tension between them, along with a lingering awkwardness following that trial. Their interactions with each other remained strictly professional and respectful, but underneath it all he suspected Asogi still had some lingering resentment toward him.
It was understandable. Barok didn’t expect Asogi to forgive him, or even like him. As long as Asogi wasn’t openly hostile, Barok didn’t care. He would continue to mentor him until he felt he was ready to return to his homeland.
Barok had realized within the first month that he held no more resentment toward Asogi himself. Now that he knew the truth, it made no sense to him to hold any grudges against Asogi or his father. No matter what Asogi thought of him in return, he was just relieved that they could work amicably together.
At the start of the third month, however, things took a sharp turn. Asogi seemed suddenly more irritable, and grew more easily frustrated with Barok. The abrupt change was confusing, and Barok tried his best to make sense of it.
Perhaps he was dealing with some personal issues. Perhaps it had nothing to do with him. Or… perhaps it was the lingering resentment bubbling up to the surface.
After a few days of this new behavior from Asogi, Barok decided to say something about it. He waited until the end of the day, just before Asogi was set to leave the office, and then approached him.
“Asogi, a word.”
Asogi looked at him with annoyance. “What?”
“Is something troubling you?” Barok asked.
His expression softened and he glanced away. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately, I think.” Then he looked at Barok with a frown. “You don’t need to concern yourself with it.”
“Very well,” Barok replied. “However, should you wish to speak of it with me—“
“There’s no need to be so friendly.”
Barok stared at him, baffled by his response.
Asogi turned around to face the door. “It doesn’t suit you.”
With that, he left, leaving Barok standing in stunned silence. He sighed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything.
Over the next few days, Asogi’s mood remained sour. His replies became curt and snippy, and it was as though he was trying to dislike Barok as much as possible.
It continued to confuse Barok. Just as he began to think they would be able to work amicably together, suddenly it was becoming increasingly difficult to get along with him. He dared not ask him about it again, since the first time had gone so poorly. He just had to assume that Asogi was dealing with some personal issues and let him figure it out himself, even if that issue was resentment toward him.
Tensions rose even more after a particularly grueling investigation. They had been at the investigation site for the entire day, searching for every piece of evidence possible. Asogi had mostly remained quiet, though Barok thought he seemed irritable.
It was well past sundown once they finally began their journey back to the office. The streets were empty as they walked in silence.
“You did well today,” Barok said.
Asogi didn’t reply.
“Tomorrow we will need to—“ Barok froze in place when he heard the sound of fast approaching footsteps from behind.
Asogi must have heard it too, because he already had his sword drawn as he turned around. “Looks like at least two this time.”
Barok drew his own blade, then let out a long sigh as he turned to face the suspicious figures. It had been a while since they had been attacked in the streets, but it felt like each time their assailants became more brazen.
One of the men came rushing toward them, the knife in his hand glinting in the street lamps’ dim light. Barok was not as concerned about him; instead, he feared the second man, who kept his distance.
Asogi stepped forward to shove the knife-wielder out of the way. But before Barok could take another step forward, a gunshot sounded, and he felt a sharp, intense pain in his upper right arm.
As his sword clattered to the ground, Barok clenched his teeth, breathing in sharply. Pain erupted from the wound in his arm, but he tried to ignore it for now. First he just needed to survive.
Asogi was already pursuing the man with the gun, leaving Barok facing the knife-wielder. He swiftly picked up his sword, grateful that his sword arm was not the one shot. He fought through the pain, and managed to finally shove the assailant to the ground. Once the man was back on his feet, he scurried away into the darkness.
Barok let out a sigh of relief, sheathing his sword. He glanced at his arm, only to find his sleeve soaked in blood. Despite the pain, he knew the bullet must have only grazed his arm, given how shallow the wound seemed.
“Lord van Zieks!”
He looked up, finding Asogi approaching, his face full of worry.
“We must get your wound treated at once,” Asogi said, stopping in front of him. “How are you still standing?!”
Barok shook his head. “I’ll be fine. It’s not a deep wound.”
Asogi frowned. “You were shot!”
“And yet it is not a deep wound,” Barok replied. “The bullet barely touched me, it seems. I can bandage it at the office.”
Asogi sighed. “Let’s head back, then.”
They returned to the office, and Asogi immediately went off to fetch the bandages and ointment. Barok carefully removed his overcoat and set it aside. When Asogi returned, he looked prepared to do the job himself.
“There’s no need for you to trouble yourself,” Barok said. “I can handle it.”
Asogi shook his head. “How could you possibly do it with one hand? Let me help.”
Barok realized there was no point in arguing. “Very well.” He sat on the edge of his desk, then let Asogi clean the wound and bandage it up. “Thank you.”
“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” Asogi said once he finished wrapping the wound. “If he’d had better aim, you would have died tonight.”
“I appreciate your reassuring words,” Barok replied. “Truly, I would not have conjured up such a gruesome thought without your help.”
Asogi glared at him. “I’m just trying to tell you to be more careful!”
“Pray forgive the discourtesy of getting attacked so unexpectedly.”
Asogi sighed.
Barok stood and faced him. “I trust you are uninjured?”
He glanced away, looking annoyed. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Barok eyed him carefully. “You may return home. I can finish the reports from the investigation.”
Asogi looked at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious! You were just shot! If anything, I should be the one to do it so that you can go home.”
Barok hesitated. “I… suppose you’re right. I must thank you again for your assistance. I know you do not care much for me. I know it must have been troublesome showing compassion toward someone you resent.”
Asogi glanced down, shifting on his feet. “I… I… care more than it might seem. I don’t resent you.”
Barok looked at him curiously. “Truly?”
He nodded. “It torments me. It makes no sense!”
Now Barok was growing confused. “What are you talking about?”
Asogi clenched his eyes shut, making fists at his sides. “I should despise you. I should hate you. I want to hate you.” He opened his eyes, glaring at Barok. “You should hate me! You should resent everything about me!”
Barok felt a pang of sadness. “Asogi…” Perhaps this was what had been the source of his strange moods lately, Barok realized. The hostility Asogi showed him suddenly made more sense. He was being tormented by his own feelings.
“It’s so frustrating!” Asogi continued. “To think that… that I’ve actually come to appreciate you! Of all people, you !” He shook his head. “What would my father think?”
“Your father? Is that what this is about?”
“He would find it appalling,” Asogi explained. “He’d probably want me to leave London for good and never speak to a van Zieks ever again.”
Barok shook his head. “I disagree.”
Asogi looked at him with consternation.
“Believe it or not, I once considered your father the greatest friend I ever had. And I don’t say that lightly.” He looked at Asogi directly. “He was a true friend. He cared about me deeply and I cared about him in return.”
Asogi stared at him, stunned.
“It is my belief,” Barok continued, “that he would have wanted us to be close. To take care of each other, even.”
Asogi glanced down, remaining quiet for a moment. “It’s not fair that you got to know him more than I did.”
Barok felt another pang of sadness. “I suppose it’s not. But you should know that he cared for you a great deal. You were the most important person in his life.”
Asogi closed his eyes.
“He would speak of you,” Barok continued. “How proud he was of you. And—”
“Stop,” Asogi said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I—I—“ He wiped his face with his sleeve.
Barok stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. Before he could say anything, Asogi closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his face against Barok’s chest.
Barok carefully wrapped an arm around Asogi in return, careful to avoid his injury. Asogi held him tightly, digging his fingers into Barok’s back as he wept.
When his tears slowed, Asogi spoke again. “I doubt he would be proud of who I’ve become.”
“I disagree,” Barok replied. “You’ve much to be proud of.”
Asogi released him, then looked up at him, his cheeks still wet with tears. “Proud of what? The lies? The deception? The manipulation?” He frowned. “You know I had planned to kill you, right?”
“I am aware,” Barok replied. “But you’re forgetting something.”
“What?”
“You’ve grown a great deal. You admitted it yourself—you no longer resent me.” He nodded. “Although we may not be friends, there is a great amount of respect between us. You’ve worked hard in order for that to be the case, and that is something I think your father would have been proud of. At the very least, it’s something you should be proud of.”
Asogi remained quiet for a moment, frowning in thought, then looked up at Barok. “Thank you. I… I don’t feel deserving of your kindness, but I appreciate your words.”
Barok looked at him sadly. “You don’t deserve to be tormented by your own feelings.”
Asogi glanced down. “I still have nightmares about it all, you know.” He sighed. “Nightmares where I lose control and… and kill you. It just makes me feel even more guilty when you’re kind to me.”
Barok closed his eyes. “Asogi, you must let go.”
“I know, but—“
Barok shook his head, then looked at Asogi directly. “I know for a fact that you would never harm me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“The very fact that you were so worried about my wellbeing just now would indicate that you very much want me to remain living.”
Asogi went quiet. He took in a deep breath, then let out a long sigh. “I… I suppose you’re right.” He glanced down. “I think I’m going to head home. I need some time to think.”
Barok nodded. Perhaps that would be for the best. “Thank you again for your assistance.”
Asogi turned to leave, but hesitated. After standing still for a moment, he turned back around. “Barok.”
Barok froze at hearing his given name. Not only was it unexpected, but he was also so unused to hearing it. He was not offended by the lack of formality—in fact, it was very special to him to hear his name used so casually, especially by Asogi. “Yes?”
“I would like to hear more of your memories of my father sometime.”
Barok nodded. “I would be happy to share them with you.”
Asogi smiled faintly. “Thank you.” He turned toward the door. “You should get some rest.”
As Barok watched him leave, he felt hopeful that things would improve between them.
The following morning, Kazuma paced across his flat, still deep in his thoughts.
He did not want to like Barok van Zieks. Kazuma wanted to tolerate him at best, learn from him, and then leave London forever. He wanted to think of his time in London as a temporary step in his longterm plan—one that ended in him never seeing van Zieks again.
But now, over three months in… he realized that wouldn’t be the case.
The problem was, Kazuma had grown fond of his mentor, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. It tormented him. It aggravated him. It kept him up at night. His plans were falling apart in front of his eyes. The thought of leaving London was now heartbreaking, and for the most annoying reason: he would miss van Zieks. He let out a sigh. It wasn’t supposed to be like this!
Now that he finally accepted the facts about how he felt, he had to figure out why .
He thought back to all their moments together—both good and bad—to try and figure it all out. The times van Zieks had been kind to him, and the times van Zieks had annoyed him. The times he felt oddly comforted by van Zieks’s presence, and the times he wanted to be far away from him. The more he thought through each moment, the more he realized what it was. Van Zieks had filled a role that he had been missing in his life, one he hadn’t even noticed he had been missing until now.
Kazuma finally had someone who truly and completely understood him.
He stopped pacing, going completely still once the realization struck him. He still considered Ryunosuke to be a good friend, and he still considered himself close to Susato, but neither of them had truly understood him. He hadn’t let them understand him. He’d kept them at a distance, only showing them a facade that hid his true self. Even his closest friends hadn’t been that close.
But van Zieks was different. Van Zieks had seen the true Kazuma. He had seen his hatred and despair. He had witnessed him in his worst of moments, and could even relate to his hardships. Van Zieks saw him each day, and had many opportunities to understand how he thought. Van Zieks understood Kazuma in ways that Kazuma didn’t even fully understand himself.
Kazuma had never felt so comfortable around someone before, and it bothered him that the person he would feel most comfortable with was Barok van Zieks of all people.
He sighed again. The morning was growing late, and he needed to get some work done.
He left his lodgings and began his short walk to the office. A reasonable man would probably decide to take a day off from work if he’d been shot just the night before, but Barok van Zieks was not a reasonable man. Kazuma expected to see him there.
As he entered the office, he confirmed his suspicions. Van Zieks was already at his desk, working on a report.
“Good morning,” Kazuma said, stopping in front of van Zieks’s desk. “How are you feeling?”
“The pain has lessened,” van Zieks assured him. “I am feeling fine.” He looked at Kazuma curiously. “How are you feeling?”
Kazuma glanced down. “I… did a lot of thinking. I’ve come to understand my feelings a bit better, I think.” He glanced over at van Zieks. “Thank you for talking to me last night. I think it’s what I needed.”
“Think nothing of it,” van Zieks replied. “Although, there is one thing I neglected to mention last night.”
“What is it?”
“I want you to know that I no longer hold any resentment toward you in return. In fact, I… I appreciate you as well.”
Kazuma smiled. “That was already pretty obvious, given how uncharacteristically kind you are to me.”
He glanced away. “I am no kinder to you than I am to anyone else.”
Kazuma laughed. “You know that’s not true. In fact, I would even guess that you are fond of me.”
Van Zieks locked up, staring blankly across the room. He was quiet for a long moment, frowning.
“Am I wrong?”
“I—I had not considered this before.”
Kazuma blinked at him. “You never considered that you might actually like me?”
Van Zieks glanced down. “Until last night, I had assumed you resented me, so I hadn’t considered it.” Then he looked up at Kazuma. “But I… I believe you are correct. I suppose I am rather fond of you.”
Kazuma smiled. “I’ve become fond of you as well.”
He looked at Kazuma in disbelief. “Truly?”
Kazuma crossed his arms, glancing away. “Yes. It was incredibly difficult for me to accept, but I’ve finally accepted it.” He looked at van Zieks. “You understand me better than anyone else, and that’s something I value a great deal.”
Van Zieks continued to stare at him.
“In fact,” Kazuma continued, “I would even consider you a… a friend.”
“Asogi…”
“I know you might not consider me a friend in return, but—“
“Asogi, I—“ van Zieks stood, then moved to stand in front of Kazuma. “I would like to say something.”
Kazuma looked at him curiously.
“Forgive me for my initial disbelief. I did not think it possible for someone to become fond of me.”
Kazuma almost laughed. He’d thought the same at first. “You’re more likable than you realize.”
“I may never understand why that is the case, but…” He placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head. “I would be truly honored to call you a friend.”
Kazuma smiled, feeling relieved. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Van Zieks closed his eyes. “I think I understand, now.”
“Understand what?”
“You mentioned last night that you wanted to hate me.” He opened his eyes. “It seems to me that you wanted to hate yourself even more.”
Kazuma blinked at him, feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Van Zieks stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t. Nothing good will come of it.”
It was a warning, Kazuma realized—a warning from a man who spoke from experience. “I… guess I…
Van Zieks looked at him sadly. “You mustn’t hate yourself.”
Kazuma took in a deep breath, then exhaled. It was true that he hated many things about himself, his past actions and behavior among them. But van Zieks was right—to hate himself would only lead to further suffering. Seeing van Zieks’s expression only made that sink in more. He nodded. “I won’t. I promise.” He looked at van Zieks directly. “But in return, you mustn’t hate yourself either.”
Van Zieks looked at him with surprise, removing his hand from Kazuma’s shoulder. “But I—“
Kazuma shook his head. “You must try.”
Van Zieks sighed, then shook his head. “It’s no longer possible,” he argued.
Kazuma crossed his arms. “Not true.”
Van Zieks placed a hand over his face, going quiet.
“Barok, you don’t deserve to suffer like this.” He frowned. “It will take time. It won’t happen overnight. But you need to allow it to happen.”
Van Zieks removed his hand from his face, though his gaze remained downward. “I will try,” he said softly.
Kazuma felt almost overwhelmed with sadness at just how defeated van Zieks looked. A day earlier he would have hated himself for feeling that way, but now… things were different. Without a second thought, he took a step forward and embraced van Zieks, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I’ll be here to help you. You’re not alone anymore.”
Van Zieks froze in place, but then relaxed, wrapping his arms around him in return. They held each other for a long moment while van Zieks took in a few deep breaths. “You’re right,” van Zieks finally said. “You… are not alone, either.”
It was a simple statement, but it had a considerable impact on Kazuma. He realized in that moment just how alone he had felt over the past few years, both as a result of him hiding behind his facade, and not allowing himself to get truly close to anyone else. He felt comfort in the realization, and hoped van Zieks did as well. “Thank you, Barok.” He released him, then took a step back with a smile. “Now, let me take care of the reports. You should go home and rest.”
Van Zieks frowned. “Writing reports will not affect my injury. It would be—“
Kazuma shook his head. “You should rest. I can take care of everything.” He smirked. “And no rearranging the wine barrels for a while.”
Van Zieks sighed. “Very well. And I will return home as you suggested.” He bowed his head. “Thank you, Kazuma.”
Kazuma smiled. “It’s what friends are for.”