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They left the courthouse together in silence. Kazuma glanced at the man alongside him. Barok van Zieks kept his gaze fixed straight ahead as he walked. Anger bubbled up in Kazuma, followed by a wave of guilt and then sorrow. So many conflicting emotions warred inside of him that he could hardly stand it.
Nothing about this trial had gone the way he thought it would. He’d ended up so fixated on revenge that he couldn’t see the truth anymore. If Ryunosuke hadn’t been there to defend van Zieks, he’d have sent an innocent man to the gallows.
Sometimes it felt like he didn’t have a choice in the matter. From the moment he’d received that letter all those years ago, he was fated to despise the prosecutor who condemned Genshin Asogi. Kazuma gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. It was so easy to tell himself he never had a choice.
When they reached the street corner, van Zieks stopped and looked at him. “Where have you been staying since your memories returned?”
His jaw clenched. “At a hotel.”
“I see. Rest assured, I will procure proper lodgings for you as soon as possible.”
Shock rippled through Kazuma, and he snapped his gaze up to the other man’s face. “What?! You’re not taking me back to the manor?” He’d… he’d just assumed, when they left the courthouse together…
Van Zieks raised his eyebrows. “Under the circumstances, that hardly seems best for either of us.”
“So that’s it?!” His breath caught in his throat. Tears threatened to blind him, though he blinked them away with a bitter snarl. “It’s not enough that you betrayed my father, now you’re just throwing me away?!”
“That is not what I am doing.”
Kazuma glared at him. “Well, it sure feels like it!”
Didn’t he understand? In a few days, Professor Mikotoba would return to Japan, and he likely would take Ryunosuke with him. Kazuma had a sinking feeling that Susato would request to stay by Ryunosuke’s side as well. Even if they weren’t leaving, he couldn’t face them as he was now, not so soon after the trial.
Lord van Zieks was… he was all he had.
Just like when he first arrived in London.
#
A nameless man with neither name nor any clue as to his own identity, he had been foisted upon Barok van Zieks to serve as his apprentice. The older prosecutor arranged lodgings for him in a respectable part of London, and the apprentice went there at once with what few personal possessions he had.
He wasn’t prepared for how he would be treated there. His neighbors regarded the strange, masked foreigner with derision at best, outright suspicion at worst. He concluded it was simply something he would have to endure while in London.
But when his mentor showed up a week later to check on him, he heard the gossip the apprentice had already begun to ignore. It visibly troubled him, with his brow creased and his mouth drawn into a tight line. Moments later, he said it would make their lives far more convenient if his apprenticed lodged with him at his manor instead.
The guest room he was given at the van Zieks estate was far more sumptuous than what he was used to, but the kindness of the offer was a much greater gift.
#
“You don’t care what happens to me now, do you?” Kazuma asked. “I betrayed you and tried to have you condemned for murder, so now I can go die in a ditch somewhere for all you care, is that it?”
Van Zieks lifted a hand to his face. “Asogi, please—”
“Or maybe you’re just a coward,” he said with a low hiss of breath. “Afraid that if you let me sleep under the same roof as you now, you’ll wake up with a knife between your ribs?”
The other man looked at him for a long time. Then he sighed. “I simply assumed you would have no desire to reside at my manor under the circumstances. If I am mistaken, then you are free to accompany me.”
“Good.”
It was a long, tense carriage ride back to the manor. Kazuma stared out the window so he wouldn’t have to look at the other man, but the scenery passing by barely registered with him. He felt sick and angry and upset all at the same time. He’d gotten his way, but he didn’t feel happy about it. He was just forcing van Zieks to take care of him out of guilt or shame. He always thought he would feel something simpler than this when it was all over—either he hated van Zieks or he didn’t. Not this… mess of conflicting emotions.
When they reached the manor and stepped into the foyer, van Zieks spoke again at last. “I assume the guest room I provided for you is still suitable?”
Anger made Kazuma clench his jaw. “Is there a reason it wouldn’t be, my lord?”
“None that I can think of.”
He exhaled sharply through his teeth, but if van Zieks noticed, he chose not to comment on it. He wandered away, and Kazuma followed. The older man went into the parlor, where he had a rack of hallowed bottles much like he did at the office. He selected a chalice and then filled it to the brim with wine.
Unlike in court, where he rarely took more than a few sips, he drained the entire chalice before filling it again. He glanced up, apparently sensing Kazuma’s gaze on him, but only downed another drink of wine.
His silence was maddening. “Are you sure you want me here?” Kazuma asked.
Van Zieks lifted his head. “Why?”
Because he had given him the guest room instead of inviting him back to the master bedroom where they had spent so many nights locked in a warm embrace, where van Zieks had whispered that he loved him in the deepest part of the night when he thought he was asleep. Because he hadn’t even suggested it as a possibility, as if it were out of reach forever.
Because he was acting like nothing that happened before even mattered, and that hurt a lot more than Kazuma thought it would.
“Because I could kill you,” he said instead.
Van Zieks glanced at him and refilled his chalice of wine.
“I could kill you in your sleep,” Kazuma said. “Maybe I should.”
“You are not making a compelling argument for your continued stay here, Asogi.”
“Then throw me out into the street,” he said. “Go on! Protect yourself! Cast me out like the murderer you think I’ll become!”
The other man threw his chalice against the wall, where it shattered, and left the room without a backward glance.
“Coward!” Kazuma shouted after him, but even that didn’t get a response.
He spent the rest of the evening alone, then retired to his guest room for the night. He looked around at the bedroom with distaste. It was plush, comfortable, and luxurious. He hated the sight of it. He hated being here at van Zieks’s mercy. But most of all, he hated wanting more from him than what he’d been given.
He glared at the door. The other man must realize how easy it would be for Kazuma to kill him in his sleep. His blood burned to strike him down, to lash out at the one person who had contributed to his father’s death who was still within his reach. He’d failed to have him executed, but now he was in the same place where van Zieks slept; all of those things must have gone through van Zieks’s mind.
Van Zieks probably hated him and was only tolerating him out of guilt. Kazuma let out a bitter laugh at the thought. The joke was on him. No one could hate Kazuma Asogi as much as Kazuma Asogi.
He covered his face with his hands. Somehow, his own identity felt as lost as when he’d had no memories at all. He wasn’t the noble, honorable law student Ryunosuke had befriended. He wasn’t the silent, lonely apprentice who had fallen in love with his mentor. Was he the vengeful prosecutor who had tried to destroy his enemy through any means necessary? Was that the real Kazuma?
No, no, no, no, no!
He sat up and got out of bed, then headed into the hall. He made his way down to the master bedroom, then stared at the door for a moment. On the other side, van Zieks was likely asleep by now, either lost in pleasant dreams or adrift in nightmares—assuming he could sleep at all with his houseguest down the hall. Kazuma twisted the doorknob.
Locked.
He stared at it in disbelief. Van Zieks had actually locked the door. He…
Kazuma tried the doorknob again, in case he was mistaken, but it refused to turn. He twisted it harder, as if he might force it open through sheer force of will, but the door remained stubbornly locked, protecting van Zieks from him, keeping him out.
“AAAARGH!” He yelled at the top of his lungs and slammed his fists against the door, then turned away and stormed back to his guest room.
When he collapsed onto the bed and pressed his face into the pillow, he realized he was crying.
#
He had known from the start that van Zieks didn’t truly want his apprentice living in his home. The man was too much a gentleman to say so out loud, but his discomfort with their cohabitation was apparent. As a result, the apprentice did his best to be as unobtrusive as possible and avoid disrupting his normal routine. He found it comforting to see his mentor at the start and end of each day, but he kept to himself in the hopes that van Zieks would grow accustomed to his presence and at the very least not be disturbed by it.
Yet even as he settled into his new routine as an apprentice prosecutor, nightmares began to trouble him. They contained glimpses and patches of a life he couldn’t remember, accompanied by rage and fear and despair, and they always ended with him sinking into darkness and drowning in oblivion, losing his new memories as he had the old, losing even what meager identity he’d scraped together as van Zieks’s apprentice.
One night, it was too much to bear, and he found himself walking down the hall to the master bedroom. He tried the doorknob, but the door was locked. Desperate, almost panicked, he knocked on the door and then knocked harder still.
At last, van Zieks opened it. “Apprentice?” He sounded tired. “Has something happened?”
The sight of him was so familiar, so comforting, that he raced forward and threw his arms around the other man.
“Wha—”
He pressed his face against his chest, and when van Zieks slowly closed his arms around him in a loose embrace, he felt protected at last.
“Apprentice, what is troubling you?”
“The nightmares won’t stop.” Belatedly, he realized he forgot to put on his mask, but it was too late now. Van Zieks had already seen his face. “Please, I don’t know how to make them stop.”
His mentor held him in the darkness and said nothing, but his company alone was soothing. “I do not know how to stop nightmares,” he said at last. “My own trouble me constantly, and I have never found a solution. Even wine only does so much.”
It was his attempted comfort that made the apprentice realize what he needed. “Let me stay,” he whispered. “Don’t send me away.”
Van Zieks stepped back to look at him, his brow furrowed. “Have I given some indication that I intend to end your apprenticeship?”
He shook his head. “Let me stay here, tonight.”
At that, the older man’s eyes widened once more. “Apprentice, surely you are not suggesting that I allow you to spend the night in my bedroom!”
He nodded.
“That is out of the question!”
Such despair shot through him at those words that tears welled up in his eyes. “Sir… please…”
Van Zieks faltered. “I… Are your nightmares truly that terrible?”
He nodded again.
“…Very well.”
Joy sparked through his heart as he followed the other man to his bed. They lay down together, and in the darkness, he thought he saw a light blush color the other man’s cheeks. He pressed close by his side anyway, comforted by his warmth.
“What am I to do with you?” van Zieks asked with a sigh.
The rest of the night passed with no nightmares, and when the apprentice awoke to the sight of his mentor’s face, his heart sang.
When van Zieks woke up, he looked at him. “Did sleeping here help?”
He nodded.
His gaze softened. “Then I promise you, from now on, my door will always be open to you. You may come to me anytime you need.”
Three nights later, when the apprentice once again suffered nightmares to unsettling to bear, he hurried down the hall and found the master bedroom unlocked. Van Zieks welcomed him into his bed without a word, and he once again slipped into a peaceful sleep knowing he was safe and protected.
Eventually, it didn’t matter if he had nightmares or not. They spent every night in each other’s arms anyway.
#
Kazuma woke up early enough in the morning to get up before van Zieks. He waited in the hallway with his arms folded until the bedroom door finally opened.
“I hate you,” he said, the moment the other man stepped into the hall.
Van Zieks raised his eyebrows. His eyes were red and puffy, with dark bags beneath them. “Yes, you’ve made your opinion of me clear.” He started down the hall. “And whatever you were doing last night, I do not expect it to repeat itself.”
Fury made Kazuma’s vision go red. He raced after him. “If I’m that much of a nuisance to you, then why did you let me stay here at all?”
“You demanded it.”
“You agreed!”
The older man stopped walking and turned to him with a weary expression. “Asogi, I cannot keep up with your games right now. Is this your idea of revenge?”
“Revenge? Is the thought of caring for another person so abhorrent to you that you consider it revenge?”
“What in the world are you talking about now?”
“Don’t pretend you care about me. Not after you broke your promise.”
Van Zieks stared at him. “Promise?”
“You don’t even remember?!” That was too much. Kazuma swung his fist at van Zieks’s face. The other man caught his punch before it could connect, so he swung his other arm around instead and pounded at his chest. “I hate you.” He wished he hated him. “I wish you were dead!” He wished he could go back to the way things were before. “I wish they’d executed you!” He wished that whole trial had never happened. “You’ve taken so much from me already, and now you don’t even remember your promise?! Did it never mean anything to you after all?!”
He knew he was being selfish, that van Zieks had suffered from the trial’s revelations even more than he had and shouldn’t be expected to simply cater to his needs, but he couldn’t stop. Everything hurt, and he just wanted… he just wanted…
He pulled away and blinked rapidly. He didn’t want to cry in front of van Zieks. Not now. Not over this.
Van Zieks stared at him with wide eyes, then stepped forward. He cupped the back of Kazuma’s head in one warm hand and pulled him against his chest.
He froze.
“Forgive me, Asogi.” Van Zieks wrapped his other arm around him as well. “I didn’t realize how much you were hurting. I thought you were just angry with me. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me anymore, that you were trying to torment me.”
He tried to speak, but all that came out was a sob.
“I will never break my promise to you again.” Van Zieks tightened his embrace. “I swear it.”
#
When night fell, Kazuma gathered his nerve and left the guest room. Even though van Zieks said he would keep his promise, part of him still doubted it. He walked down the hall to the master bedroom, then took a deep breath. He tried the doorknob.
It opened.
Relief flooded him, and he let out a long breath. Van Zieks was awake, watching him. Without a word, Kazuma crossed the room to the bed like he used to and climbed in alongside him. And, simple though it was, even doing that much felt so good.
“Don’t you hate me?” van Zieks asked. “Why would you seek comfort from someone you hate?”
“Maybe I’m here to get my revenge and stab you during the night after all,” Kazuma said, his voice shakier than he liked.
Van Zieks made a scoffing sound.
“You know it’s possible.”
“Perhaps.”
“So why allow it? Why let me sleep here again?”
“Do you truly need to ask?” Van Zieks reached out slowly and brushed his thumb over Kazuma’s cheek. “Did you never realize how I felt about you?”
His breath caught in his throat.
“Shameful feelings for a mentor to have toward his apprentice, perhaps, but no less real because of it.”
“But… that was before, wasn’t it? I’m…” He was practically a different person now.
Van Zieks caressed his cheek and looked into his eyes. “I’ll ask again, Asogi. Why are you here in the bed of a man you hate?”
“I don’t hate you,” he whispered.
“Don’t you?”
He shook his head. All the same, he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it himself. Everything was still too painful, too raw. But for the moment, it was enough to cuddle close to the other man’s chest and forget. As van Zieks’s arms closed around him, it seemed for a moment as though nothing had changed.
“Have you forgiven me?” he asked. “For prosecuting you?” He regretted asking the moment the words left his lips. The trial had been yesterday, hardly enough time for van Zieks to forgive him.
Yet the other man’s arms tightened around him. “There is nothing to forgive.”
He wasn’t sure about that, either. “I think…” He swallowed hard. “I think I’ll be able to forgive you someday, too. Right now, it still hurts too much, but… someday.”
“I will understand if you cannot.”
“I want to,” he whispered. “I want to forgive you.”
“Then I hope you can.” Van Zieks’s next words were so soft he could barely hear them. “It is difficult to be hated by the man you love.”
A smiled tugged at the corners of Kazuma’s mouth, and he pressed close into the embrace of the only person he wanted to be with right now. “It’s not easy to hate the man you love, either.”