Work Text:
He runs from the house that night.
It might have been better to stay and pretend he found the body, but he’s sure to be a suspect regardless. If he is searched, the precious document tucked in his jacket would be taken away.
Genshin knows that Stronghart is behind this evil, and probably more besides. He knows too that Stronghart is powerful, and there’s nothing powerful men fear more than something out of their control.
He will not lose Klint’s will. He will keep his promises.
It’s all he can offer the man who was once his friend.
+++++
He returns to the house the next morning.
Police mill about the grounds, but only a few. They must have discovered Klint’s body last night, then, and this is all that’s left of the outcry.
The maid’s expression hardens when she sees him. Perhaps she saw him fleeing the scene?
Genshin knows they won’t find anything conclusive tying him to Klint’s death. It is not out of the ordinary for him to be at the house; his presence alone won’t be enough for a conviction
The maid doesn’t bar him entry, so he steps inside.
He finds the younger van Zieks in the sitting room near Klint’s study, staring fixedly at his hands. “Barok,” he says.
Barok looks up. His eyes are red from exhaustion and weeping. He must have been up all night. “Mr. Asougi, I—” he turns his face away quickly, scrubbing roughly with his sleeve. “Forgive me.”
“None of that.” Genshin goes to him, crouching beside his chair. “I heard what happened. I’m so sorry.” It’s the only apology he can offer.
Barok is holding himself perfectly still, like if he moves he’ll go to pieces. “I didn’t hear him go to bed last night,” he says, with the rehearsed tone of a man who has told a story more than once. “I thought he might be working too late again, so I went to his study—”
Genshin’s heart sinks. “You found him.”
“I should have looked for him sooner. I should have stayed with him—”
“You couldn’t have known.” Genshin sets a hand gently on Barok’s arm. “And you might have been killed if you were there, too. I’m sure that Klint was grateful you were safe.” This much, he knows.
The dam breaks. Barok collapses like a puppet with its strings cut; Genshin goes up on his knees to catch and hold him, and doesn’t move as the young man cries his broken heart out onto his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Truly.”
And he is sorry. Sorry for Klint’s corruption and death, sorry for Stronghart’s unspeakable manipulation, sorry that his own son now has a killer for a father, sorry that the young man in his arms has a killer for a brother, and sorry beyond words for the miserable failure of the system that should have saved them.
+++++
His flat is searched multiple times.
Nobody tells him so, and there are never any policemen in his rooms when he’s at home, but he can see where things have been picked up and put back and rifled through.
He’s sure Stronghart orders the searches, as well as the secrecy. He and the Lord Chief Justice are both aware of too much, and it’s a dangerous game.
Stronghart wants the will. Of this he’s certain.
He’s equally certain that Stronghart will never find it. Karuma never leaves his side, after all.
+++++
Frozen out of the Professor investigation — he’s never given a real reason why, but Detective Gregson’s wary expression tells him enough — Genshin spends his afternoons and frequently his evenings at the van Zieks’ residence.
Barok is being eaten alive by his own grief, his gentle heart and quiet disposition ill-suited to handling such a blow. By turns he sits listlessly in the sitting room, stands motionless in Klint’s study, or tears through Klint’s notes and files like a man possessed, wild with the desire to catch his brother’s murderer.
He doesn’t cry anymore. It’s like he drained himself dry that first night and has no tears left to shed.
Genshin wishes he could stop visiting. It feels like a betrayal to hear Barok swear vengeance on the Professor (who was his brother) and Klint’s killer (who was Genshin himself) and say nothing.
But Barok always clutches his hand whenever he finally leaves, begs him to come again tomorrow, and Genshin always says yes.
+++++
“I just can’t believe it,” Jigoku says.
Genshin is at his fellow student’s flat, a handsome little place within walking distance of the prosecutor’s office. Seishiro must have connections indeed if he was able to obtain such a room.
But then, Genshin knows he does. He’s not seen too much of Jigoku these past six years, and when he does, his compatriot is almost invariably shadowing Lord Stronghart.
“How are you holding up, Asougi?” Mikotoba is here, too, and Genshin is grateful for it. “I know you and Lord van Zieks were close.”
“Well enough,” he says. “I’m more worried about his brother.”
“Yes, it’s a shame.” Jigoku strokes his beard. “I admit I’m not well acquainted with the younger van Zieks, but I hear he’s a good sort.”
“He’s very kind,” says Mikotoba. “And he adored his brother.”
“Hm.” Jigoku considers. “Well, I’m sure the Lord Chief Justice will bring the murderer to the dock soon. He won’t let this rest.”
Genshin does not trust Jigoku. It’s a cold thing to think, especially about a countryman and someone he’s only passingly familiar with, but he is sure on this point.
Jigoku Seishiro is too ambitious, and not in the way that makes a man reach for greater heights — only the way that drives a man to forget the things that are truly important.
Mikotoba thinks highly of him, though, so Genshin holds his peace.
He thumbs his wallet, where a well-worn picture of his son lies tucked safely away, and wishes desperately he could see him again.
+++++
The police trickle in and out of the manor.
There’s not much to see. Klint’s study has been cleaned and set right after the police scrounged it for days on end, searching for hints as to his killer.
They haven’t found anything. They never will.
There are other people, too; lawyers and men with whom Klint had business dealings, here to talk matters of estate.
Genshin sits with Barok over long-winded documents, rows of figures and lists of assets. Barok is an intelligent man, and highly capable, but he never expected to be head of the family, with all the responsibility it entails. Even if he weren’t out of his mind with exhaustion and sorrow, it would be a heavy task for one so young.
The businessmen speak to him – Lord van Zieks, if you could take a look at this – and Genshin counts seconds, one-two-three, until Barok realizes that Lord van Zieks is now his name and responds.
+++++
In the privacy of his room, in the dark of night, he sometimes takes out the will.
It’s a foolish thing to do. If the police ever decide to search while he’s at home, they could catch him with it, and demand he give it over.
Stronghart would destroy it the moment he got his hands on it. Genshin is sure that those he sends to rummage through his belongings are the loyal sort, men who would never breathe a word that Stronghard forbade them to breathe, and so the will would die with Genshin, along with Klint’s final wishes.
Still — it’s oddly comforting to run his fingers over the loops and whorls of Klint’s excellent handwriting, remembering better days.
He only wishes that he could share Klint’s very last words in this world with his wife and brother. It would be a cold comfort, maybe, but more than they have now.
Wishful thinking helps nobody, of course. He rolls the will back into Karuma’s hilt and lies down to sleep.
+++++
The investigation stalls.
Genshin still goes to the precinct, though there is never much work for him. The frenzy that had characterized the police in the aftermath of Klint’s death is gone, replaced by a lethargy no one can seem to shake.
No one, it seems, save Gregson.
He’s in and out of the building like a hurricane whenever Genshin sees him, and his desk is littered with notes all carefully locked away in drawers when he leaves.
Gregson hasn’t spoken to him in days. Genshin doesn’t try to break his silence.
+++++
“I wouldn’t blame you,” Barok says, “if you left.”
“I could hardly leave you alone after all this.” Barok doesn’t deserve to be abandoned, and Klint would want his brother to be looked after.
“I meant if you left for Japan.” Barok leans his elbows on the desk, rubbing his eyes wearily. He’s lost weight; it’s hard to tell through the layers he wears, but Genshin can see his shoulder blades and the knobs of his spine a little too clearly if he looks. “To go back to your family, and leave this wretched place behind.”
“I will go back, eventually.” He hopes and prays for it every day. “But I intend to see this through to the end.”
Barok stares down at a deed without really seeing it. “You are a braver man than I,” he says. “I almost wish you would leave, and that I could go with you. Anything to stop seeing him everywhere, only to remember. . .”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Barok shakes his head. “No, do not apologize. I’m being foolish.” He pushes the deed away. “Your family. . . how old is your son now?”
“Fourteen.” Genshin smiles, struck again by the bittersweet knowledge that he has missed six years of his son’s life that they can never get back. “Nine years younger than you.”
Barok makes a noise in his throat that could be acknowledgement. He looks at Genshin, and he seems present for the first time in days. “Would you tell me about him? If it’s not too much to ask.”
Genshin laughs in spite of himself. “It’s nothing,” he says. “I’m always happy to talk about him.”
He stays an hour past his usual leaving, regaling his audience with tale after tale of Kazuma’s childhood. It’s little enough to offer, with how young his son was when Genshin left, but it eases the pain of being apart for a time.
Barok’s attention remains fixed, almost hungry, as though hearing of another young soul, blissfully free from the pain he feels, is a momentary escape from that pain.
If Genshin ever makes it back to Japan, he’ll be sure to tell his son all about this conversation — the single bright speck in a long, dark night, and how Kazuma himself made it happen.
+++++
When they take his ring, Genshin knows it’s over.
The ruffians were never after Barok at all; the young man remains untouched behind him. They vanished into the fog immediately after stealing his ring — the most identifiable object he wears.
“Mr. Asougi.” Barok is scrambling toward him, nearly falling to his hands and knees in his haste. “Your hand—“
“It’s nothing.” Barok reaches for him anyway, and Genshin allows him to examine his hand. It’s scraped and abraded from the road, and the single gunshot grazed along the back, leaving a slowly-bleeding line.
“You saved my life.” Barok’s fingers spasm against his, like he wants to grip harder but is afraid to irritate the wounds. “I am in your debt.”
Genshin shakes his head. “You owe me nothing,” he says. The thugs — if indeed they were thugs at all — would have attacked him either way to get at his ring, his coat, whatever they could carry off that is undeniably his. Barok was collateral damage; it’s a small mercy he remains unhurt. “Like I said, your brother would never forgive me if you came to harm.”
Barok searches his face. Genshin doesn’t know what he finds, but he seems satisfied. “Still. . . please let me bandage your hand. Klint taught me some first aid, and it is the least I could do.”
“Well,” says Genshin, trying for good humor. “Who am I to turn down a request from a Lord?”
Barok’s bandage job is a little clumsy, but perfectly suitable. Genshin praises him, and he ducks his head to hide, insisting it’s nothing.
There is no way out of the trap. Genshin feels it closing around him, and he waits.
He will not take the blame lying down.
+++++
If Genshin thought for a week, he couldn’t have come up with a worse time to be arrested.
He’s in the foyer of the van Zieks manor, bidding Barok farewell and promising to return again tomorrow, as he always does.
The heavy knock at the door and call of Police, open up are clearly intended to make a liar of him.
It’s Gregson. This, at least, is not a surprise.
He gets right to it. “Genshin Asougi, you’re under arrest on suspicion of being the murderer known as the Professor.”
Barok interrupts before Gregson can say anything more. “The — Detective Gregson, are you mad? Mr. Asougi isn’t—!”
“We have decisive evidence.” Gregson tips his hat down lower on his head. “Sorry to disagree, Lord van Zieks, but it couldn’t be anybody else.”
Decisive evidence makes Barok falter. He’s a prosecutor, and one who works regularly with Gregson; he knows what this means. “Mr. Asougi isn’t—he would never have killed Klint.” He turns to Genshin, face bloodless in the dim light of the foyer. “Isn’t that right?”
Genshin says nothing. He could deny any other death, but Klint’s? Oh, he is very guilty of that one.
“Mr. Asougi.” There’s an edge to Barok’s voice now — anger or panic, Genshin can’t be sure. “Look at me and tell me that you did not kill my brother.”
Genshin looks, but he does not speak.
Killing Klint left a mark on his soul; he’s as sure of this as he is of the sun’s rising and his love for his son. But it wasn’t as painful as he really deserved. By the time he resolved to do the deed, it was a foregone conclusion, over and done with.
Watching Barok van Zieks realize that he has been betrayed again by a man he counted as a friend and confidant, though — Genshin knew it would hurt, but never guessed at all just how much.
“You said—” pause. “You said that you were sorry.” He’s clever, the young Lord van Zieks. He’ll be formidable one day. “Were you apologizing for killing my brother?”
“I’m sorry,” Genshin says again. He has nothing else to offer now.
“I don’t believe this.” Barok takes a step back, like he wants to run into the house and never come out again. “Detective, is this a joke?”
“‘Fraid it’s not, sir. Sorry.”
“Yes, everyone is sorry, sorry, sorry.” He turns on Genshin, eyes glinting like broken glass “Klint trusted you. I—” he stops, but the end of that sentence is apparent to everyone. I trusted you.
Genshin doesn’t apologize again. There would be no point.
“We really need to be getting on,” Gregson says briskly. His subordinates start chivvying Genshin toward the carriage waiting at the gate. “You’re welcome to talk to him down at the Yard later, if you want.”
If Barok responds, it’s lost in the wind and the big, empty house.
+++++
There’s no surprise when he sees Barok standing for the prosecution at his trial. Genshin only feels a tired sort of sorrow that grows and grows as the farce progresses, watching what death and betrayal have done to the kind soul he’s grown so fond of.
Closing his eyes as the judge prepares to give his obvious verdict, Genshin grieves for his dead friend, the younger brother left adrift, his son halfway across the world, and how easy it is for good men to fall into evil deeds.
Kazuma, he thinks as the bailiff leads him away, I wish you could grow up in a better world than this one.
I'll see you soon.