Archive of Our Own

Stepping back into the Old Bailey courtroom wasn’t unlike stepping a few years into the past.

Nothing ever changed in this building, the people haunting it were still the very same as they had been when Barok had still worked there. Every minute spent inside those awfully familiar walls was one too many, and if it hadn’t been for the arrival of this one person’s child, Barok would have never bothered returning at all.

Court clerks and attorneys alike retreated to make room as he strode towards the prosecutor’s antechamber - his case had been assigned. Lord Stronghart hadn’t given much information apart from the bare minimum, but the folder with initial witness reports and description of the crime scene filled in some of the many blanks.

Of course, Barok much preferred doing the investigation himself, but on such short notice wishes like that could hardly be accommodated.

Well, at least on account of the crime scene - that modern omnibus - Barok had an idea…

~

The McGilded trial was as wretched as anticipated, if only due to one feisty Nipponese lawyer. A lawyer, one had to add, who wasn’t Kazuma Asougi at all, but a know-nothing Barok didn’t think had ever seen the inside of a courtroom before.

And yet the little menace fought tooth and nail, turned every piece of evidence around until - to no one’s bigger surprise than his own - reached a non-guilty verdict. It was wholly undeserved, McGilded being as much of a criminal scum as during all of his earlier trials, but it was an acquittal, nevertheless.

When the omnibus with the free man inside burned that very same day, Barok couldn’t help but think of that obnoxious Nipponese lawyer, the first Vampire he’d seen in a long while. And how, despite the insistence on asinine arguments and the downright fraudulent evidence, Barok was inclined to believe that the attorney himself wasn’t crooked.

Even if Ryuunosuke Naruhodou seemed reasonably well-fed.

~

Barok made sure to be assigned the Nipponese’s next case as well. He could justify this decision with his need to keep an eye on a potential source of danger, but the truth was, Barok was afflicted with an instance of curiosity.

Thankfully, not even the Chief Lord Justice had quite figured out the whole matter of his interest, though the man’s guess wasn’t too far off the truth either.

Soseki Natsume was a horribly irritating man, though luckily for him – Natsume, not Barok - innocent.

Meanwhile, the Nipponese attorney looked quite worse for wear in contrast to their last meeting a handful of weeks ago. It was a development Barok noted upon with some unease. He had planned to observe the situation of Naruhodou from a distance, but this difference threatened to topple his careful intentions.

When not even a week had passed before Barok and Naruhodou met again on opposite ends of the courtroom - the latter reeking of hunger – he knew things had to change.

After another utterly ridiculous and convoluted case, Barok caught his opposing counsel in the defence’s antechamber. His judicial assistant, a young woman with undoubtedly high intellect, was absent to file the post-trial paperwork just as he had planned.

“Oh, Lord van Zieks!” The Nipponese’s eyes widened almost comically upon finding his presence at the door. “Is something the matter?”

From up close Naruhodou appeared even more jittery than with a courtroom between them. That awfully drab, black uniform of his sat tightly on his limbs, a bit bleached out at the elbows. Like this, when he wasn’t arguing his case, the Nipponese appeared perfectly ordinary, not even worth a second look except for that one fact Barok had picked up on right away.

„What kind of vampire are you,” he asked, not seeing any need to dress his intentions up in wasteful small talk.

If it weren’t so infatuating, the way Naruhodou stiffened in obvious shock would have been amusing. This man lacked all the qualities one needed to keep a secret. Which was a good thing for Barok but spelled a horrible future for the man, who’d get taken advantage of and perhaps even blackmailed in a heartbeat. Where was that backbone Naruhodou sometimes showed in court?

“I- what? You- uhhh… What do you mean?”

A farce, and not even a good one. Barok watched dispassionately as the Nipponese rubbed the back of his head in that transparent tell of his. He gave the man a few seconds to compose himself before simply repeating his question.

This time around, Naruhodou’s useless postering fell, leaving behind a simply startled and anxious man.

“I’m not sure what you- I mean, I am a vampire, but are there different kinds? I’m sorry, I don’t really know much about it all? I haven’t even met any other vampires until now?”

Why was Barok even surprised by the Nipponese’s lack of knowledge at this point? After his performances behind the bench, it only seemed natural that he was clueless even about this part of his life.

“Of course there are different kinds, the creatures of the night are as varied as any other type of living being. I take you are not one of the specimens feeding on fruit.” Barok sighed at the lack of useful reaction. “In any way, it does not matter now.”

Apparently, this was the moment when Naruhodou remembered how to speak: “How did you know? That I’m a vampire? I haven’t told anyone else since- I kept it a secret because people are usually not very… uh… friendly towards them? Well, I guess Mr. Sholmes and Iris would be kind, but- ah… sorry I should actually let you answer.”

Barok inspected the young man - the undoubtedly young vampire - more closely. His tanned skin had grown a shade or two darker since his first courtroom appearance, despite the perpetually cloudy weather of London. His teeth sat in contrast to it, light and perfectly ordinary to anyone who was interested in those matters.

In truth, Barok resembled more the vampires in common folklore than the Nipponese did. Even more than his brother, back then.

“It’s the pull. You might not be aware of it, but you vampires possess a certain allure, designed to draw in prey or set worries of suspicious people at ease. And it seems as if I am more familiar with the creatures of the night than you yourself are; I can recognise the signs of hunger, the impending starvation in your eyes even when most people won’t. That is why I have approached you - despite your deeds I cannot allow you to roam the city in this state.”

This seemed to fully sober the man up, a hint of a different kind of emotion flittering over the expressive face.

Pain, maybe.

Grief, perhaps.

Unbidden, the thought of Kazuma Asougi resurfaced, the man who’d been expected to arrive as a visiting student. Instead, Naruhodou had shown up in his place, not even a day late, so he must’ve been onboard of the same ship.

Not for the first time Barok pondered those circumstances. Asougi had found his demise during his voyage, leaving his assistant and friend to step up in the meantime. Which was all well and good until one remembered that neither the British nor the Nipponese government would be generous enough to allow another passenger to come over.

Especially not after the Professor. Soseki Natsume’s study tour was more sufficient than proof of that: a stipend painfully low without any compatriot in sight.

“… I think I understand. I just haven’t quite figured out yet how to get access to blood over here. Until now my partner- but that isn’t an option anymore. Asking Susato-san would be very improper and Mr. Sholmes is selling already his blood to the hospital when his financial situation grows dire - I couldn’t impose knowing that. And Iris of course is way too young to feed on safely…”

The Nipponese rambled on, his words growing quieter as he drifted off into his own thoughts, seemingly forgetting he’d been part of a conversation.

Barok checked his pocket watch, noting the passage of time with the evening fast approaching. He sighed again, fatigued by the day’s trial and this very interaction. And yet the annoyance was a lot more subdued than expected.

He cut through the babbling with a pointed clearing of his throat and said, as soon as the attention was back on him: “I will provide to you for the time being. I feel a certain responsibility, since I am aware of your situation, but you will need to find someone else in the future.”

Naruhodou blinked but didn’t fight it. Very hungry, then.

“Inviting you to my lodgings is out of the question, so my office will need to suffice. You should inform your assistant of your plans and make sure you aren’t followed.”

Right on cue, Barok heard the quiet tapping of feet coming up behind him. He stepped aside to allow the judicial assistant to pass by him and take up position next to Naruhodou. She informed him swiftly and succinctly that she had taken care of the paperwork, before scolding Naruhodou for his inability to handle such himself.

Between the two of them, Judicial Assistant Mikotoba surely was the lesser evil. She was the picture of a refined lady, her clothes and hair perfectly poised and her demeanour calm. Despite her youthfulness, her eyes sparkled with intellect, and she showed a diligence every attorney - not just Naruhodou - would surely benefit from.

Sending her along on a study tour had been a good decision. If given the opportunity, Barok would choose her as co-counsel over most of the prosecutor’s office any day.

“Ah, Susato-san,” Naruhodou said, that awkward grin back on his drawn features, “Lord van Zieks asked me to come to his office to, uh, talk about things.”

Barok was, once more, in awe of the Nipponese’s inability to lie. Or string words together coherently.

“Oh?” The assistant sent Barok a look that was less surprised and more apprehensive. A smart woman indeed. “What a pleasure, we are quite honoured.”

Naruhodou scrambled, trying to fix what he had so unthinkingly implied: “Uh, no… actually, he kind of only invited, uh, me? Sorry about that I’m sure next time-“ Barok raised an eyebrow and the Nipponese course corrected right away. “-next time I’ll get an invitation from someone I’ll bring you along!”

The young Miss was very much unconvinced, though she directed her gentle ire at Barok instead. She stared at his unmoving face, there was nothing he had to hide after all, until she had either found what she was looking for or had simply given up.

“I see. In that case I’ll go ahead and see if there’s something I can help Iris with. She seemed a bit worried earlier about Mr. Sholmes’ uncharacteristic behaviour,” Miss Mikotoba said, earning a rather relieved reaction. This time around it was Naruhodou on this side of her piercing eyes and he folded like a flower in the wind.

Surely this topic would be revisited later, without any other ears listening in.

Barok indicated a shallow bow and politely offered his goodbyes, noticing out of the corner of his eyes a similar gesture from the Nipponese.

“Now, I think we can simply head over together. No need to have you getting lost on your way and run into problems.”

Naruhodou was receptive of that idea and fell into step behind him. Though, as much was obvious, he struggled to keep up with Barok’s longer legs. He didn’t slow down and pointedly ignored every single member of the judiciary they crossed paths with. This wasn’t any of their business, and while they would gossip, no one would dare raise the topic with him.

A reputation like his, it turned out, possessed some advantages.

The wing of offices furthest away from the entrance laid quiet. Barely anything had changed in the five years Barok hadn’t worked here, to the point that Lord Stronghart had even kept his office as it had been.

Klint’s office had been across the hallway, Barok had known it better than his own at some point.

Back then there’d always been a chair near the window for him to pull up to shadow his brother’s work. Whenever Barok had been on break from school, he’d found every excuse in the book to visit the prosecutor’s office and watch Klint - and sometimes Genshin Asougi - in their element.

As he’d grown more experienced, Klint had on occasion given him a brief or two to review; or tasked him with constructing some arguments. Barok had always strived to deliver perfect work, just for the chance of his brother using a part of it in court.

Following Klint’s death and the Professor’s trial, Barok had spent many nights in that empty office, even going’s so far as to bring the huge oil painting over to his own.

Eventually he had stopped entering the room, long before Barok had resigned from his position. He simply hadn’t been able to bear it any longer. And now he still never dared to approach the office again, he wasn’t certain if it had been reassigned in the meantime, though it seemed likely.

“This one,” Barok announced, a tad superfluously, as he pulled out his key. The rooms of every prosecutor held highly confidential paperwork, as well as documents from old cases. To discourage foul play, every office had been equipped with heavy locks years ago, so that only the given occupant, as well as the Chief Lord Justice had free access.

The Nipponese hurried inside behind him, looking around in obvious interest. Those wide eyes of his caught on the portrait first and the wine barrels second, neither of which Barok intended to talk about. So, to avoid such topics right away, he pulled Naruhodou back into their earlier conversation: “You mentioned to have had a feeding arrangement prior to your arrival here. How often did you require sustenance and how long ago have you been turned? With those pieces of information, it will be easier to narrow down your species.”

Barok didn’t falter in his steps and gathered a well-worn journal out of a neat assortment from the drawer underneath his desk. He thumbed through it until he had reached the correct pages, written in neat cursive oh so many years ago.

The Nipponese had come to a halt two paces in front of him, standing in that odd mixture of attention and anticipation. A bit like a lamb before the slaughter, complete with the heavy rise and fall of his chest.

How ironic, given that Naruhodou was technically the predator in this situation.

“Right, uh. I think it must’ve been a year ago? A bit longer, perhaps. I didn’t quite realise what had happened right away, only when my… urges started to become obvious did Kazuma and I figure out what was wrong. I was totally terrified,” the vampire chuckled, though there was sadness in the action. “You know, I actually don’t deal well with blood. I used to faint whenever I saw a single drop. Without- him I don’t think I would’ve made it so far; I wouldn’t have had a reason to, either… Ah, but you asked how often I used to drink, didn’t you? We didn’t have a strict schedule, or something like that. At the beginning it was like once a week, but I didn’t need as much later. So perhaps once every two or three months or so? At least that’s how long it took for the need to become urgent this time. I guess it was lucky that I drank so soon before his death. I don’t want to imagine what it would’ve been like otherwise on that boat…”

Seeing Naruhodou so dejected and worn pulled something loose inside of Barok which he didn’t care to inspect any closer. It was easy to let himself be blinded by hatred and anger towards the Nipponese people Barok had known all those years ago. Now it was harder to sustain it, though, even when faced with a girl carrying that doctor’s last name and a man carrying Asougi’s sword.

Because for all the opinions Barok had worked hard to believe in, those two refused to fit into the mold he had prepared for them.

Pushing this notion away, Barok compared this new information with those noted in the journal. He skipped those creatures who fed on a person’s life force by different means in favour of those succinctly summarised as “sanguine” vampires. Those lived after the initial turning through an infancy period ranging between six months and a year and required blood on the average every two weeks.

Barok’s gaze wandered back to the Nipponese in front of him, still distracted by memories, apparently.

He didn’t strike him as the type to continue existence through the in comparison messier consumption of blood; given the context Barok would have taken him for a psi-vampire or even an empathic one. It would have most likely served Naruhodou better as well.

“Have you found something?” The Nipponese asked, a bit of cheer bleeding back into his voice.

Barok nodded and summarised the small paragraph most congruent with the provided information, of course nothing about Naruhodou could be ordinary: “You seem to belong to a sub-type of vampires who feed of a certain component of a person’s blood. It allows you to require sustenance less often than the more commonly known vampires, it appears. I am no expert on the compounds of blood, but you seem to feed of plasma rather than serum, for what it’s worth. It doesn’t make a difference for the person you are drinking from, as your body separates the blood into the nutrients your being needs.”

That part of the process had never held much relevance to either Klint or Barok, so he hadn’t pursued it much. He was dimly aware of scientific advancements in this area of study, doctors profiting immensely in the process, but that had been after Klint’s untimely demise. Even if Barok’s interest would have been separated from his brother’s condition, at that point in time he still wouldn’t have had the strength to keep up with it.

The Nipponese took in this new information, still uncharacteristically sober. Then, just as Barok assumed having to steer this conversation once more, Naruhodou thanked him quietly.

“To be honest,” he started, eyes wandering off again “I didn’t think I’d ever learn more about… about this aspect of myself, I guess. After- after I got turned, Kazuma and I tried to find out the basics without raising suspicion. It was… dangerous and terrifying and I owe him a lot. Since then, I’ve learned to live with it, mostly, I accepted that this lack of information would be forever part of my life. Well, I was lucky to have had such a good support system, I guess I grew too… complacent, relying on it and not digging any deeper.”

Barok could see a myriad of emotion flittering over the young vampire’s face, some he was intimately familiar with and some he was glad he wasn’t. It was the shame that touched him surprisingly deep.

“For what it’s worth, you seem to have done well until now despite it,” Barok decided against being more specific, leaving it essentially to Naruhodou to guess which part of his life was mentioned by implication.

The Nipponese’s dark brown eyes were uncomfortably familiar as they found Barok’s again. For a moment he wondered what Naruhodou would look like with his nature on full display. Perhaps then he would lose some of his prey-like behaviour.

Though, for the benefit of London, Barok hoped to not see it any time soon, if ever.

“Except that I’m starving now, forcing you to step in to avoid disaster.”

While the truth, Barok didn’t quite enjoy this reframing of his earlier words. Societal norms and duty ‘forced’ him to do many things, but in dealing with this issue there would’ve been other more straight forward measures to take.

So, in an attempt to move this along, Barok put away the journal and stepped back around the desk: “I believe it is me, who has ordered you to come here. But that isn’t important as of now, is it? We should get on with it, before that dreadful detective thinks about retrieving you himself.”

It wasn’t quite clear if Sholmes knew of Naruhodou’s secret, though it was most likely that he’d seen the signs as well. He had been loosely acquainted with Klint, back then, and for all his faults he could be perceptive when one least expected - or wanted. The real question was if Naruhodou himself was aware of this supposed knowledge.

More familiar sheepishness settled in the young vampire’s features and the rigid stance loosened up a bit.

“Right. Theres certainly going to be an inquisition when I return home.” More quietly he mumbled: “Susato-san certainly won’t pull any punches.”

Well, Barok amended inwardly, perhaps the more pressing question was if that bright judicial assistant had an inkling. Keeping one’s Vampirism a secret was more than advisable, though in case of this gullible and honest man having associates to cover for slips might be a healthier decision.

Barok exhaled before loosening his neckwear. It had been a while since offering himself up for a feeding, though the routine was still deeply ingrained. Vampire bites were a curious thing by design; both incredibly dangerous - accidental turnings or deaths weren’t unheard of, while also exempt from any injury’s common fallacies. Bites never grew infected and healed a lot quicker than any other attack of similar calibre, aspects that certainly evolved to make the lifestyle more sustainable.

“Your… partner and you had established a routine, I presume? If you would care to share it so this can be dealt with swiftly?”

Barok expected the melancholy this time around, prompted by the simple mention of Asougi. It couldn’t be helped, of course, so he didn’t think to try and waste any more time.

“Uh, right. Um…” Naruhodou bumbled before getting visibly distracted by the expanse of Barok’s skin. Also to be expected, considering that the vampire was actively starving. Though, as much one had to admit, Naruhodou was behaving rather orderly despite the circumstances. Hunger had the ability to drive both humans and inhumans alike to the brink of madness. So, Barok let this go and exhibited some patience as the Nipponese regained his bearings.

“Yes, of course. Kazuma usually, well, he just-“

The hesitation this time around was unexpected, especially with the flush colouring tanned cheeks. Barok frowned both annoyed and intrigued despite himself.

“The first few times I was- well, I told you I’m not good with blood? I’m quite squeamish and I was rather scared, so Kazuma had to- he kind of hugged me? And… held me?” The blush darkened and not even the raised shoulders managed to distract from it.

And Barok stared down at the young vampire, so vulnerable and sad and very alone. Klint had floundered too, in the beginning, though he’d always been one to find his stride quickly. There’d never been hesitation and Klint had taken to master his new nature so quickly Barok had been in awe. Or perhaps the struggling had been regaled to behind closed doors, to the privacy with the adults Klint had been closest to.

Naruhodou ripped him rudely out of his musings his being next words, hurried and sheepish again: “You don’t have to, of course! I would never presume you doing that for me- and I’m not as new to it anymore anyway… so…”

The vampire looked ready to bolt by this point, something Barok couldn’t accept for an assortment of reasons.

“Shush now, we will figure it out.”

It was odd to be the more experienced one, the older one in this arrangement. Yet the worry about taking too much from the vampire remained the same.

Barok wasn’t an overly sensitive person, at least not hadn’t been in a very long while. He had been rather estranged from most company since his early retirement and things had only picked up slowly with his reappearance. Persistent rumours aided his solitude with even the upper class keeping their distance and not inviting him to gatherings as would be proper.

In any case, he was wholly unprepared to support the more emotional side of this encounter.

Naruhodou obediently trotted closer, reducing the remaining distance on Barok’s backing. There was a certain charge in the air, intimate yet not at all predatory. Once more the Nipponese refused to bend to normal conventions and to exhibit a strength unbefitting to his usual behaviour.

Perhaps he ought to crouch, Barok mused when he recognised their height difference as potentially troublesome. Or maybe he should hold Naruhodou after all, keeping him a bit up in the air? That would definitely make matters even more awkward. Sitting down would prove a good solution, though that would lead to the vampire being in his lap, which was unacceptable if they intended to ever return to their correct roles and interpersonal relationship…

“Thanks again,” Naruhodou said, and Barok half expected him to follow it up with an ‘itadakimasu’ or whatever it was his kind said before eating. Then he stood on his tiptoes, eyes darting to Barok’s one last time to assure consent before leaning in. Naruhodou braced himself on Barok’s shoulders, who took great care not to move and wait instead. It was so unlike a monster taking sustenance and more like a puppy carefully accepting what was being offered.

The feeling of sharp incisors piercing skin was as it always had been, a brief moment of pain and then heat just this side of bearable. And yet it was distinctly dissident from how Barok remembered it. Or perhaps it was simply time distorting the memory.

Naruhodou didn’t really suck the blood, instead lapping up what welled from the initial wound. Barok was certain that it had been different with Klint, maybe a difference in species or simply in personality. The Nipponese was also wobbly in his stance - if he were to attack a random civilian on the street even the most uncombative of men would be able to fend him off. A good sign for London, most likely.

So, Barok couldn’t help but soften for the vampire more than he already had, sneaking one arm around the slim waist to press their bodies together. It earned a squeak against the sensitive patch of skin, as Naruhodou had immediately pulled back.

“Keep going, I’ve got you.”

The hands on Barok’s shoulders quivered before coming to rest again. Then, the vampire grew pliant in a way completely startling. He kept on drinking, obviously more comfortable and also… content?

Barok’s heart ached, and he held on a bit more tightly leaving Naruhodou nearly limp on him. Like a babe, being lulled to sleep by the feeding.

A lifetime ago Barok had seen one of his younger cousins being nursed at a family function. He’d accidentally barged into the room during a round of hide and seek, interrupting the tranquil scene, the moment of peace. The memory had apparently stuck through all those years, who would’ve guessed?

Throat tight, Barok waited for Naruhodou to eat his fill.

The Nipponese pulled back slowly, the wound sealing itself as soon as the vampire stopped the contact. It had been a substantial amount of blood, showing just how close to starving Naruhodou had truly been. Barok would need a bigger lunch than he usually indulged in to recuperate.

As they moved apart, he was treated to a rare sight; the vampire’s eyes were nearly feverishly bright while sporting a faraway look. The already youthful skin was glowing, and any tiredness or signs of fatigue had vanished.

Naruhodou was so young still, in every aspect of his life. It was unlikely that age would ever get the chance to paint his features properly, just like it never had for Klint. A bittersweet thought; eternal youth was something people had striven for since the dawn of time, yet everything came with a price.

Barok somehow doubted Naruhodou had wanted to pay it.

Silence stretched a bit longer than was polite, both of them lost in their own thoughts until they remembered their circumstances.

“As I’ve told you, you will have to figure out a new arrangement soon.” Naruhodou nodded, face appropriately grave. “Still, I’d rather you approach me again before getting yourself or someone else in harm’s way. I do not have to tell you how dangerous it can be to have your status discovered.”

The vampire left quickly afterwards, though not before proclaiming his gratitude one last time.

Against his assumption Naruhodou never returned to the office for another feeding, apparently having figured out another way to survive; and since Barok never heard about any concerning police reports he assumed it was all above board.

Which was the most important thing, of course.

~

It was an odd coincidence that the second vampire Barok came in contact with in as many years was also Nipponese, no, Japanese. Matters weren’t helped by him being just as clueless as Naruhodou, even if for different reasons entirely.

Kazuma Asougi was alive, in the loosest interpretation of the word, at least. He was also a walking headache with and without that dreadful mask.

Still, despite the dubious mentorship Barok had been forced into, the Masked Apprentice had figured out how to gather nutrients for himself right away. It was likely he’d learned on his way from Shanghai - hopefully without any casualties.

After regaining his memories, Asougi’s disposition changed a bit. Ironically, he became more secretive and remained borderline hostile towards Barok - why he was so insistent on remaining his apprentice was anyone’s guess. It might’ve been the best solution for them all if he’d followed Naruhodou and Miss Mikotoba back to Japan. Especially since he’d have more feeding options during the passage then.

Though, Barok had mused one night, the departure of the Japanese contingent had been rather abrupt for whatever reason. Had Asougi even had any time to talk to his friends outside of that one celebratory dinner? It didn’t seem likely. For a second Barok entertained the thought of the two vampires discussing their inhuman lifestyles: the timid Naruhodou and the stand-offish Asougi…

Perhaps it was for the better that they hadn’t both remained in one place, them teaming up could’ve turned dangerous under the right circumstances.

Anyway, however Barok’s apprentice sustained himself, he usually did so by himself and properly. They’d only had a single talk about the topic, back before Asougi had been able to use his voice. Then, Barok had courteously offered him the same as Naruhodou: to be approachable during emergencies as a safety precaution. It was rather important too, since whoever had turned Asougi - and under which circumstances that had occurred remained a secret - had been of a more demanding species than Naruhodou.

Even now that Asougi had left his own infancy behind, he grew hungry after two weeks the latest. Starvation was a relatively higher threat that way.

But so far, nothing had come of it.

It was late summer when Asougi arrived at the office and hour after what was customary for him. His white dress was immaculate, and his hair recently trimmed, yet his appearance suggested dishevelled despite that.

Barok needed a moment to figure out how that could be and decided it had to be the look in those dark eyes.

Kazuma Asougi was a fiery man with sharp intelligence, even if his stubbornness and occasional improper conduct belied his brilliance. The only things Barok couldn’t complain about was his diligence to their work and his insistence of learning - which bordered on unhealthy in some situations. Which was also why he had agreed to continue mentoring the man he’d wanted to hate but found himself unable to for reasons Barok contemplated only after at least half a bottle and in the privacy of his home.

Their work relationship had morphed from antagonism and barely concealed hostility to - sometimes mutual - irritation and exasperation. It was acceptable, occasionally even… nice to not be alone in this office, though Barok would never admit as much.

The point was, when his stand-offish and loud-mouthed apprentice arrived not only late but quiet… Barok didn’t need long to realise something was wrong. Though to be honest his first instinct had been a possible attack rather than… hunger.

After making sure Asougi was outwardly unharmed, Barok let him settle at his desk for a while. Stirring a pot whose content you didn’t know was rarely advisable.

Only a few hours later, when his apprentice showed uncharacteristic sluggishness and slowness in his duty did Barok break the unusual silence: “Asougi, I imagine you recall the deal I have offered?”

Stiffness settled over the taught frame, visible through clothes and half an office away. Barok sighed, deciding to take a few steps back: “You have never missed a feeding before, so do you want to explain what happened?”

“I do not,” were Asougi’s first words of the day, because of course they were. He was a contrarian by heart after all. But Barok was used to uncooperative people and simply stared, pen carefully put aside to wait Asougi out.

Eventually, his apprentice turned and stalked over, features pulled into something bitter and angry. That… wasn’t a look one saw often on him these days but wasn’t entirely unfamiliar thanks to that infamous trial months ago. Barok didn’t much care for it.

“If you have to know, I ran into an illegal hunting party last night. No idea what they were still doing in the forest after dark, but I- I couldn’t complete my own… hunt.”

Asougi’s lips quirked down which led Barok to conclude that it hadn’t been the first time either. Even this high-needs species of vampires could handle a few days of food delay, especially if the inhuman in question usually erred on the side of caution. Barok would need to look into this suspicious group of people, but that could wait.

Aiming for slight ribbing he asked instead: “And did you have any intention of approaching me for assistance?”

They both knew the answer was no; one of Asougi’s most troublesome qualities was after all, his pride. And while a bit of it was healthy and useful, often - like in this very moment - it was more a hindrance than help.

“And here I thought you’ve stayed to take everything I can offer you,” Barok continued, carefully curling his voice in the way he knew would annoy Asougi. Added with the deliberate throw-back to the man’s slightly embarrassing speech as he had reclaimed his apprenticeship, this was ought to bear fruit.

Indeed, the hunger was minutely dimmed by displeasure - like a cat arching his back and hissing. It was rather entertaining to watch, if it weren’t so unprofessional Barok would invoke that reaction more often.

In any case, now that Asougi was up so close the vampiric pull wasn’t possible to ignore anymore - not for Barok at least.

Time for the last push.

“And this time I am actually offering.”

He dropped the teasing for a more sombre tone.

“So take it, it won’t reflect badly on your abilities or conduct. Needing help is… natural from time to time.”

As much as they both hated to accept that. Remaining alone and trying to deal with matters by oneself meant leaving an opening for danger to approach. Though overcoming one’s flaws was hard despite best efforts, especially those so deeply ingrained. It was a process unfortunately, like so many other things.

Asougi looked down for a second, biting his lip in frustration. He had a decent poker face as long as he didn’t let himself get riled up, now though he’d let go of it. Barok couldn’t help but be reminded of someone else, standing in front of his desk just as young and just as hungry - just as vulnerable and out of his depth.

And once again Barok was in a position to help, an opportunity he hadn’t had in a while now. Something he’d been… not completely happy about either.

“Alright. Sure. But only this once. And because you insist!” Asougi spat, staring at him through a petulant frown not out of place on a toddler’s face. It was kind of humorous.

In another stroke of reminiscence, Barok was once again wondering what the most convenient way for this arrangement would be. He’d been standing with Naruhodou - which had been surprisingly alright even when their stance had turned into an unplanned embrace.

And while the situation wasn’t too different, Barok couldn’t even imagine doing the same with Asougi. While it hadn’t been hard meeting Naruhodou in court afterwards, his relationship with Asougi was more fragile in some aspects. Perhaps because it was more… permanent and built on shakier foundations.

“Just…” Asougi frowned even more and stepped around the desk. Following in turn Barok pushed his chair back a bit to meet his apprentice head on. “… just sit there, I’ll do the rest.”

In contrast to his brash and slightly impolite words, Asougi’s movements were haltingly, nearly hesitant. His hands were curled into fists before he got a hold of himself and consciously and visibly relaxed.

Barok observed him more closely, taking stock of everything as he loosened his neckwear and collar. Part of him was curious how Asougi would go about this and if this bite would feel any different from Naruhodou’s. After all, he hadn’t been able to confidently tell the last time, with old memories fading.

Another bout of hesitation and then Asougi… plopped himself sideways on Barok’s lap. Which was surprising, shocking even. More than unprecedented.

On the other hand, nothing about their situation had ever been conventional so this was simply one more escalation in a series of ludicrous events.

Still, if someone would’ve ever raised the possibility of Barok’s apprentice ending up on his lap…

“Having regrets yet?” Asougi taunted without moving an inch. His poker face had returned, skilfully hiding the nervousness Barok knew he felt.

That slight acidity did wonders for Barok’s composure, though, and he replied easily: “Many, but none of them pertaining this.”

Which was true enough for his purpose.

Asougi tsked but braced his hands on Barok’s shoulders, firm just like the hold on his sword. Judging by the look of concentration, it would be any second now - so Barok relaxed his posture. A little-known fact was that strained muscles made this kind of thing more painful. While he didn’t mind a bit of discomfort, why invite it unnecessarily?

Asougi dove in, swiftly claiming Barok’s neck for himself and he let it happen. The bite itself was exactly as it had been with Naruhodou; painful for a moment and then a nearly blinding heat that subsided into warmth. But differently from Barok’s last time, Asougi wasn’t content with simply reaping the blood that bubbled up but was sucking on the tender flesh for more.

Barok couldn’t help but brace himself as the pressure against his neck doubled. Asougi seemed insistent to bury his whole head there, like a greedy child stuffing his face with sweets. It was kind of in line with his apprentice’s attitude of taking what he thought he needed - at least most of the time.

Once more, Barok found himself oddly affected by the whole thing - he began to suspect that somehow the bite itself was at fault for that.

A few more moments later Barok began to feel faintly lightheaded and closed his eyes against it. Time lost meaning as they remained like that, except for the arms that sneaked around Asougi’s middle. Barok wasn’t sure if it was to ensure his apprentice’s stability or to sate his own need to hold onto something.

The pressure subsided for a second as Asougi floundered before resigning himself to the new situation. It was strangely peaceful even after it ended. They remained in that position for a bit longer, collecting themselves - or in Barok’s case: fighting off the dizziness - before Asougi rose to his feet.

Observing the difference an overdue feeding made to a vampire never failed to astonish. The replenished youth on his apprentice’s features and the less rigid line of his shoulders softened his appearance. Barok kind of envied this simple fix to exhaustion he, too, so often experienced.

Any hesitation was lost as Asougi returned to his desk as if the last few minutes had never occurred at all. Which was just as well for Barok, who abhorred unnecessary emotional minefields - the unavoidable ones were annoying enough as it were.

So, a different kind of quiet settled over the office as they resumed the work that needed to be done with renewed efficiency.

Only a few hours later, when evening was colouring the sky, did Asougi abandon his revision to stare at Barok. A certain haughtiness was painting his face, eyes twinkling brightly still from his recent feeding. Sensing the import of what was about to come next, Barok pushed down the report he’d been reading.

“Thanks,” he heard and wasn’t sure what the emotion was, that was audible in the single word.

Which was why Barok settled on an equally simple: “You’re welcome. Just as I’ve told you.”

And that was that.

The following week a group of self-proclaimed hunters of the night was arrested for possessing illegal weapons and roaming the woods after dark. Asougi returned to work every day as punctual as always, which was both relieving and disappointing at the same time.

~

Over the course of the remaining years the young man lived in London as a visiting student, he only made use of Barok’s standing offer two more times - one occasion during a drawn-out case of a serial-burglaries that kept Asougi chained to the desk and the other shortly before his departure.

A day later the steamship carrying Ryuunosuke Naruhodou and Susato Mikotoba arrived, who’d come to visit their friends and taking Asougi back with them afterwards. Which was a convenient reason to give, though Barok assumed part of it was allowing the vampire a reliable source of blood for the months of travel.

There was a big get-together at 221B in the evening, one Barok was technically also invited to. But while his relationship to his associates had improved and Iris - and by extension Sholmes - had become some kind of family, he didn’t intend to go. Perhaps one could say it was a bridge too far to cross.

Asougi shook his head at him as he left. He’d met his friends at the docks earlier but had wanted to make sure his desk was really empty before leaving the country. Asougi’s reliability had never wavered in those years.

Barok watched him go, a strange ache in his chest. At some point his apprentice had become a staple in his daily life, one pleasant enough to miss. Maybe it was due to habitualness or perhaps complacency; something completely natural at least.

Still, Barok didn’t get much done anymore that day and retired to his home early for the first time in recent memory. When he opened his front door the following morning to head into the office, he was confronted with the drowsy figure of Ryuunosuke Naruhodou of all people.

The years hadn’t changed him much, partly due to his infliction and also due to his age, yet Barok noticed a deeper maturity in the way he carried himself – even while half asleep. A certainness of himself and sharp wit no longer clouded by insecurity. It was a good look on him.

“Mr. Naruhodou,” Barok greeted smoothing over his surprise.

He received a smile for his trouble, remarkably steady and easy going.

“Lord van Zieks,” Naruhodou nodded back “good morning.”

Barok made a cautious step forward and found the defence attorney yielding, easing out of the way but falling into step towards the gate.

“We’ve missed you last night, Iris sends her regards, by the way.”

He wasn’t wearing that school uniform anymore, instead having settled on a decent - if completely ordinary – western style suit. It was an improvement for sure, a logical one considering he should’ve graduated by now. Asougi had mentioned with obvious excitement that Naruhodou had “finally” received his proper credentials a while ago.

Barok idly mourned the fact, that he wouldn’t get the opportunity to assess the man’s professional growth for himself.

“Please give her my thanks.”

They passed through the gate and headed further towards the street. Naruhodou didn’t show any signs of leaving.

Instead, he continued: “You know, Kazuma wrote a lot about you and I kind of regretted that I could never give you a proper farewell.” A hint of old sheepishness coloured Naruhodou’s cheeks. “So, I wanted to remedy that this time around.”

Barok felt those warm eyes drill into him, imploring him to answer the unspoken demand. There was nothing to argue about, while he had been able to justify not accompanying Naruhodou and his contingent to the ship the first time around, propriety insisted he couldn’t do the same with his long time apprentice.

“I will see you off when the time comes,” Barok promised, pushing down the uncomfortable lurch of his stomach that arose whenever the topic came up. “But for the time being there is work to be done.”

Naruhodou tilted his head, not put off in the slightest; he had definitely grown.

“I also wanted to thank you again, for what you did back then. I know why you did it, but still, you really saved me - and without your push I doubt I’d been able to come clean with Susato so quickly.”

Barok had thought of that day a couple of times over the years, about that sweet, shaky trust they’d put into each other. And with a bit more shame had remembered the disappointment he’d never been able to quell when that occasion had remained the only one.

Many a researcher had contemplated the addictiveness of vampire venom, not only in recent years. It was after all a probable explanation for the sustainability of this lifestyle. Barok had never been convinced of its truth, though - only wavered in his stance, sometimes, but never for long.

“As I said, it was no issue for me.”

Those eyes were still assessing him, like a piece of evidence or a new witness. Not hostile but inquisitive.

“Do you like it?” Came the question out of nowhere and still not unexpected. Naruhodou had a way of sniffing out the truth. “Kazuma mentioned your standing offer to him and… I myself always wondered how it feels. Kazuma tried to explain, but his memory of the weeks before his amnesia isn’t the best…”

Of course he’d be curious, that damned attorney. Who wouldn’t? Young Barok himself had been dying to know ever since his brother had been turned; youthful eagerness eventually convincing Klint to do it once or twice just to placate him.

“It’s not… entirely unpleasant,” Barok allowed, guiding them through London streets that began to properly wake up. It gave a convenient excuse to not meet Naruhodou’s gaze. But being the man that he was this wasn’t enough for him to let it go.

First there was a hum, a quiet contemplation, and then: “Do you want me to feed on you?”

“Are you hungry?” Barok frowned, he hadn’t noticed any of the usual signs and was reasonably certain Naruhodou wouldn’t be careless enough to let something like this slide.

And as predicted the man shrugged and replied: “Not particularly, no. I still don’t need as much as Kazuma.” The sigh that followed was wistful. “It doesn’t scare me as much anymore either, what I am or what I have to do. Perhaps you should know that it’s partly thanks to you. Kazuma has always been great, before… you know. But we were best friends and partners, having you accept me like this and help - it was of a whole other magnitude, if that makes sense.”

Barok swallowed thickly but didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“If I’m right and you don’t… hate it, I could show you my progress. It’s not a courtroom duel but maybe the next best thing?”

Naruhodou has had great potential even as he’d floundered around behind the bench, sweating and flying by the seat of his pants. He’d been dangerous, too, in that righteous way, the just way.

Now he had grown into someone truly terrifying. Barok was… strangely proud.

Having an apprentice around had evidently softened him up a great amount.

They turned around the last corner ending up in front of the Old Bailey. He barely registered the imposing building anymore, simply passed through to his office or the courtroom in question; it had become mundane.

Naruhodou, though, paused and stared up at the old architecture and well cared for details all around. It must feel quite distant to him at this point, a small memory in the grand scheme of things. He’d owned his own law practice for longer than he’d ever studied here, after all.

Barok waited patiently for the moment to pass, not commenting on it - and neither did Naruhodou.

The walk through the long, empty corridors was reminiscent of that one and only time they’d walked them together before; judging by the other man’s small smile he remembered the same.

“Oh,” Naruhodou breathed as he stepped into the office after him, eyes roaming the premises without guilt.

Not much had changed in the past years - Asougi had refused a different desk, though like in Klint’s office a lifetime ago, there was a chair near the wall. The barrels were still in their place, well cared for and recently rearranged. Barok hadn’t even switched the supplier of his chalices - never touch a well running system.

“It’s gone.”

Naruhodou was looking at the wall that had once housed his brother’s portrait. It had moved into the unused study of the mansion not long after Asougi’s residence in his office became permanent again. Barok had kind of forgotten about it; after seeing the smaller paintings of german landscapes day in day out… it had become the new norm. Especially, since no one else had ever commented on it, not even Asougi himself.

Barok wetted his lips, old hurt long scarred over and numb - which sometimes was worse than the opposite, his guilty conscience insisted: “Well, so is he.”

And they left it at that.

“How do you want to do it?” Naruhodou asked, calm with his arms relaxed at his sides.

It hit Barok harder than it had any right to be. So far, he’d been the steady one, the experienced one; the one offering a service. Now though it was anything but. The lines drawn had washed away with the tides leaving behind a smooth nothing.

Barok returned the gaze and got himself together.

“We can do it like you usually do.”

Naruhodou had a nice smile, unguarded and warm. He still didn’t have much of a poker face, but it wasn’t as if he needed to, was it?

“I mostly feed on Susato or Rei-san. We’re close, but it would be rather improper to bite a lady’s neck, wouldn’t it? So, it’s normally on the wrist for sake of simplicity,” he explained, and Barok felt as if his own mask was nothing other than transparent to Naruhodou. “I wouldn’t object to taking the more stereotypical approach, though.”

“Let’s do that, then.”

They didn’t round the desk, instead they remained right in the middle of the office, that laid as quiet as the rest of the building. Barok was glad he was still the first one to ever start his day around here, there was no fear of interruption that way.

His neckwear was dealt with quickly, and it took a lot of effort to not accidentally crush it between his fingers. Naruhodou closed the gap between them, raising to his tiptoes just as he had done the last time. A second of eye contact and bracing himself on Barok’s shoulders - though this time Barok didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the body at his front.

With practice came efficiency; Naruhodou pierced the vulnerable skin quickly and only coaxed the resulting wound a bit to ensure a good flow. It still seemed to suffice for him, treating Barok to the gentle lapping he’d being subjected to years ago.

There was even less urgency this time and the steadiness Naruhodou brought was felt through their contact. It was different and yet the same.

When they parted Barok hadn’t even lost enough blood to notice a change.

Naruhodou’s eyes had gained a bit more shine, though. Nothing about them screamed predator as they should, no sign of a monster lurking behind a nice facade. He was still a man, just like Asougi was and like Klint had been. Hah.

The strange ache claimed more of Barok’s chest, squeezing it tightly.

There should only be good emotions now, but even those were cutting, somehow. It was very strange indeed.

“You know, you could still come by for dinner tonight? We’d all want you to… Me as well.” Less sharp now, the angles and the eyes. “I’ve meant to send you a letter - started to a few times, actually. But it seemed… intrusive after the way we parted, after all we never actually had a normal conversation? I’d like to change that, if you don’t mind.”

Why?

A question Barok had mentally repeated many times over their short acquaintanceship. One that apparently wouldn’t cease to propose itself when dealing with Naruhodou.

Barok had been awful for most of their relations, mostly due to bias and old hurt he’d never learned to properly deal with. Things had been decent on that one occasion, perhaps acceptable as Barok had grown used to him on the other side of the bench. But even when Naruhodou had fought for his life, Barok had done anything but make it easy on him.

He’d never even said goodbye.

The bad definitely outweighed the - dubious - good.

“Why?” Barok eventually asked, he couldn’t help it.

Another shrug, though there was that smile again. “Well, I always wanted you to like me. And perhaps I’ve been a bit jealous that Kazuma managed to, when I didn’t.”

What?

Naruhodou gently rapped his knuckles against Barok’s shoulder, who was too stunned already for it to make much of a difference at this point. Perhaps he was still dreaming?

“Just… think about it, alright? I’ll tell Iris you said hello.”

And then Naruhodou was gone, leaving behind a man both bewildered and also… something else. He turned around to sit at his desk, intending to get started with his work, distract himself as he’d done so many times before.

But he was still holding his jabot.

Barok stared at it for a long time.

~

In the end Barok did not follow the invitation for dinner that night. But he did knock at 221B’s door two days before the steamship bound to Japan was set to depart. He’d seen neither of the people living there in the meantime; Asougi, after all, had no more work to finish and everyone else was most likely busy with other things. Which was just as well, really.

Herlock Sholmes in the flesh was the one who opened, dressed in his usual waistcoat and looking generally too well put together to have been involved in any of his horrible experiments. Barok still wasn’t the man’s biggest fan - mostly because the self-proclaimed detective enjoyed bothering him a little too much - but they’d long reached an understanding. After all, they wouldn’t force Iris to suffer of bad blood between them. As her family they should be at least somewhat united.

“Barok,” Sholmes grinned as he always did, when he addressed him with the given name he had never been invited to use. “What brings you here on this fine day?”

Barok pulled out the carefully wrapped present from underneath his travel cloak and pushed it into the other man’s arms: “Politeness, of course.”

Sholmes laughed uproariously, head thrown back far enough that Barok’s own neck ached in sympathy.

“In that case, come on in,” the detective chuckled, gesturing wildly as he made room. Years of knowing each other revealed the honest delight behind the gentle teasing, though.

Everyone was in; traces of a late lunch were still on the table usually folded up somewhere out of sight. It seemed a rather laid-back affair, with Asougi lounging unseemingly on his chair.

Barok used the moment to take stock of the last person he’d yet to meet again. Miss Mikotoba had changed more than either Naruhodou or Asougi had been able to. She’d matured fully into the elegant woman that one could glimpse at years ago. Some of the rounded features had slimmed more, though their gentleness had remained.

The sight made Barok ponder what kind of person Iris would grow up to be. She, too, had left childhood behind at this point, her height already alluding to the features of her parents. Though it was hard to imagine her as an adult yet, at least in Barok’s mind.

“Lord van Zieks, how have you been?” Miss Mikotoba rose to her feet swiftly and bowed. Her melodic voice had lost even more of its foreign accent, as faintly noticeable as it had been in the past. Did they have many english clients, Barok wondered. Or did they simply keep up with their practice?

Sholmes drew back an empty chair - his own, presumably - for Barok to occupy as he vanished further into the flat.

“Quite well, and yourself?”

Smalltalk was an important pillar of society, though one Barok typically didn’t care for much. Present company made it easy to slide into less mind-numbing topics quicker than technically polite and the air remained light for the rest of the day.

Iris hugged him hard after Barok bid his goodbyes and reiterated his promise to meet them at the docks for a proper farewell when the time came. Until then he’d stay away, unwilling to disrupt their plans - but also because he was unable to remain in their company for much longer without letting on that he was more emotionally affected than he intended.

Perhaps they still knew.

Most likely, even.

~

The final goodbye hurt like a knife wound you were kind of expecting, yet hoped wouldn’t go through.

Barok stared at the ship vanishing on the horizon for a long time, stoically facing the sea. No one said anything, Iris simply slipped a hand in his and eventually tugged him back towards the train station.

That night he sat at his desk, underneath the shine of a single lamp in an office too big for one person alone.

He wrote three letters then, one to the Chief Lord Justice and two all the way across the world.

Barok had lived in the past for so long it had become his personal normal. Now though, he was ready to see the future with his own eyes, before it was too late.

With the letters addressed and sealed, the man doused the light and locked up his office. He walked out, the Old Bailey a familiar shadow at his back.