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Things had been so much simpler when he had amnesia.
Kazuma stared up at the bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep. Like everything else in the manor, the guest bedroom was grand and luxurious. When he had been assigned to Barok van Zieks as his apprentice, the man had offered him a place in his own home, where he lived until his memories returned. After the trial, the other prosecutor once again offered him a room in the manor.
Against his better judgement, Kazuma had accepted. In the weeks since then, his resentment toward the other man had gradually faded into forgiveness, but living together had become a different sort of torment.
Unbidden, the image flew into his mind of Barok’s face inches away from his. He drew a sharp breath. It had been months, but the memories remained as vivid as if it were yesterday. He remembered the press of his lips, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hands. He remembered every second of those shared caresses in the privacy of the master bedroom.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to banish the memories. They weren’t his. They belonged to the nameless apprentice, who had fallen in love with his mentor and given him his heart because he didn’t know any better. He wasn’t that man anymore. He was Kazuma Asogi, who had tried to destroy Barok van Zieks. He’d sought his death, believed every evil rumor about him, and fought to prosecute him for murder, driven by nothing but hatred.
Sometimes he thought it would be easier if he still felt that way.
Kazuma scowled at the doorway in the vague direction of Barok’s room. The man had no right to be so good and kind behind that mask of indifference he wore in public. He’d made Kazuma fall for him again.
Or maybe his love had never quite died, maybe it had only been buried beneath his anger and hatred, and once those feelings vanished, it rose up in their place. It didn’t matter either way.
Too much had changed between them. Neither of them had even acknowledged the relationship they once had. They were now master and apprentice, nothing more. They never could be anything more. To become something more, they’d have to…
Well, first Kazuma would have to admit he’d been wrong. The very idea made him recoil. He was quite content to have his hatred be a thing of the past and let his actions show that he felt differently toward Barok now, without ever needing to say so out loud. Second, even if he squashed his pride enough to confess his feelings, he’d almost certainly be rejected.
He groaned and rolled over to bury his face in the pillow. That was the true problem here. Forget his pride, he could sacrifice that easily if it meant getting Barok back. But Barok had no reason to love him the way he’d loved that silent, polite apprentice. He’d reluctantly continued his apprenticeship, but what did he feel when he looked at the man who had prosecuted him? Anger over the trial? Guilt over Genshin’s fate? Certainly not love.
So if Kazuma could just stop remembering how things used to be…
If he could just stop remembering those quiet evenings spent by Barok’s side, the dinners they shared together, the nights spent in each other’s arms… He closed his eyes, and in the darkness, he could almost feel Barok’s embrace.
“It does not matter who you were before,” Barok had whispered in his ear one night. “All that matters to me is who you are now.”
Wait a minute. Kazuma sat straight up in bed. That was right, Barok had never let grudges, prejudices, or suspicions tarnish his views for the amnesiac apprentice. No matter how much he resented Kazuma now, he might still love that apprentice if he returned. Which meant… there was a way to regain his relationship with Barok after all.
Kazuma lay back down and grinned up at the ceiling in triumph. Sometimes his own brilliance scared him.
#
It was a simple matter to locate his old cloak in the morning. Finding the mask was a bit trickier. Sholmes had returned it to him—how it ended up at 221B Baker Street in the first place, he wasn’t sure—but Kazuma had thrown it somewhere out of fury when he remembered how meek and placid he’d been when he wore it.
He all but tore the room apart in his search and finally found the mask in the back of the wardrobe.
He put it on and then threw the cloak around his shoulders. A slight shudder ran through him. It felt a bit like he was losing part of himself by wearing this again. But then, maybe that was for the best, too.
There was no need for him to be Kazuma Asogi anymore.
Ryunosuke might be a problem, but he was far off in Japan, and by the time they saw each other again, Kazuma would have long since written to him to explain his deception. Surely he would understand that Kazuma needed to feign amnesia so Barok would return his love. Yes, this was the best solution for everyone.
He straightened his cloak and headed out into the hall. They had taken a rare vacation from work, so he had an entire week to settle into his role before returning to the office. He made his way downstairs to the manor dining room, where he and Barok had often shared breakfast when he had amnesia. They hadn’t eaten together since he regained his memory, another thing unattainable as Kazuma Asogi.
He stepped into the dining room, and Barok stiffened in his seat when he saw him. He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you dressed like that, Asogi?”
For a second, Kazuma froze, but he remembered what he’d done when Susato addressed him by name back when he had amnesia. “A… sogi?” he repeated, as if sounding out unfamiliar syllables.
Barok’s eyes widened to a comical degree, and he stood up. “What is the meaning of this?”
Kazuma stared silently back.
“Your amnesia… has it returned?”
“Returned?”
Barok pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment and then stepped around the dining room table to approach him.
Ah, this was more like it. The plan was working already. Kazuma leaned in for his morning kiss.
The other man’s eyes widened still further, and he sidestepped the intended affection. “Pray try to understand the situation. You regained your memory months ago. What is the last thing you remember?”
Kazuma sighed. It seemed he’d have to sell the pretense a bit harder first. “We were preparing for a trial, sir. Your friend’s trial?”
“Are you telling me you cannot remember anything since Albert’s trial?”
He nodded.
“Nor do you remember your own identity anymore?”
“No, sir.”
“Good God…”
From the look on his face, Barok believed every word. Excellent. Kazuma closed his eyes and waited for his kiss.
“Listen to me,” Barok said, which was not typically how one preceded kissing, “you are Kazuma Asogi. Does that name not spark anything in your memory? Think carefully. Kazuma Asogi.”
Kazuma gritted his teeth. Of all the men in the world, he had to fall in love with one as infuriating as Barok. He should just shut up and be happy that his beloved apprentice was back. “I do not know that name, but you may call me by it if you wish, sir.”
“Kazuma… do you truly remember nothing?”
His heart skipped a beat. Barok never addressed him by his given name. “I remember the important things.”
“Meaning?”
“I remember us.” He closed the gap between them and placed his hands on Barok’s shoulders.
Barok’s cheeks grew flushed. “If this is all you recall about ‘us,’ I am afraid you have forgotten a great many things.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
The other man’s resolve visibly wavered. He met Kazuma’s gaze, and his clear blue eyes were so beautiful, so soft, so warm. His arms slowly crept up, and he pulled Kazuma into the embrace he’d been yearning for.
Heart pounding, Kazuma closed his eyes. He’d been waiting so long, and now he finally—
Barok let go of him before their lips could meet and retreated a few steps. “Forgive me. I forgot myself.”
Kazuma glared at him. “What you forgot is to give me my kiss!”
The other man’s eyebrow arched. “I don’t recall you being quite this demanding before.”
“And I don’t remember you ever refusing to kiss me!”
Barok sighed. “Listen to me, Kazuma.”
Hearing his name spoken in Barok’s voice again sent another thrill through him. He’d never get tired of hearing that. He wanted to hear Barok say his name again and again.
“This isn’t what you want.”
That, on the other hand, was the opposite of what he wanted to hear. He scowled. “So you think you know my feelings better than I do?”
“No, that isn’t…” Barok sighed again. “I know how you felt about me before—how you believe you feel about me now. However, you felt differently toward me when you had your memories.”
Kazuma gritted his teeth. “But I don’t have those memories now.”
“I know.”
Maybe Barok didn’t want to pursue his feelings because his heart would be broken if Kazuma’s memories returned again. If only he could just tell him that his feelings were the same either way. But if it were that easy, he wouldn’t have had to feign amnesia in the first place.
Barok touched his shoulder, and Kazuma brightened and leaned in for his kiss, but all he got was a gentle squeeze instead. “I will help you, Kazuma, I swear it. For your sake, I will spare no expense.”
And that wasn’t what he needed at all.
The other man reached up—not to his face, but toward the mask. “Forgive me. In my confusion over your current state, I neglected to mention something vital. There is no need for you to wear this anymore. Stronghart’s restrictions no longer apply.”
Panicked, Kazuma jerked his head away before Barok could remove his mask. Keeping up his façade of amnesia was hard enough as it was without Barok being able to see his reactions.
He stared at him for a moment, then looked away. “No, you’re right. I don’t deserve to see his face while you profess love for me.”
At least he seemed to distinguish between Kazuma-with-amnesia and Kazuma-with-memories, as if they were two different people. Enough of that, and this might go in the right direction after all.
#
This was not going as planned. Kazuma glared at his mentor’s back as they returned to the manor after a long day out—not on romantic excursions like he had imagined, but to see doctors he had to lie to about his memories and to hear Barok talk about his father and the Professor and the trial while he pretended those words didn’t mean anything to him.
When the manor doors closed behind them, it got worse. Barok bowed to him. “Forgive me. I don’t know what to do to help you.”
Guilt over the lie prickled Kazuma at how upset Barok sounded… but then again, he could leverage that distress into something that would make them both happier in the end. He stepped closer to him. “Why can’t you accept me as I am now? Have I done something wrong?”
Barok’s eyes widened. “No, certainly not.”
“I’m your apprentice. Don’t you want me anymore?”
“Of course I do.”
He took another step and pressed his face against Barok’s chest.
The other man sighed and embraced him. “Forgive me. I did not mean to hurt you in any way.”
Kazuma looked up into his eyes.
Once again, the other man drew close enough to kiss him, and once again he looked away instead.
“Please,” Kazuma whispered. It rankled him to beg, but his amnesiac self had not been so proud. “I need you.”
“Oh Kazuma…”
“Please.”
Barok reached up and touched his cheek, his touch featherlight, yet warm and gentle and perfect. “You should get some sleep.” He stroked his cheek gently, then pulled his hand away. “Good night, Kazuma.”
He turned and started up the manor’s grand staircase. Kazuma stared after him for a moment, frustrated. To be fair, this was part of why he loved Barok. For as indifferent as that man pretended to be, especially in public, he was compassionate and considerate behind the façade. Of course he would be anxious for his apprentice’s health. That didn’t make it any less frustrating when that goodhearted nature got in the way of Kazuma’s plans.
With a sigh, he started up the stairs after him. Barok must feel an obligation to help him because of what had happened in the past. That was probably why he’d allowed him to stay on as his apprentice in the first place. He’d be happier once he realized he didn’t have to deal with that anymore.
At the top of the stairs, Barok headed to his bedroom.
And Kazuma followed right behind him.
Two steps into the room, Barok turned around, arms folded, and stared at him. “What, pray, do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m the one with amnesia,” Kazuma said, “not you. You should remember where I sleep.”
The other man sighed. “The room in which you awoke this morning—”
“—is not nearly as good as sleeping in your arms.”
To his delight, a pink blush rose to the other man’s pallid cheeks, and he averted his gaze. “T-That may be what the situation once was, but…”
Kazuma stepped closer. He ran his fingers up Barok’s chest and offered him his most enticing smile. “Well?”
Barok closed his eyes and took a breath. Then he closed his hand around Kazuma’s wrist and removed his hand from his chest. “No.”
“But—”
The other man lifted him into the air despite his indignant squawk of protest, carried him into the hall, and set him down. By the time he regained his footing and ran toward the bedroom door, Barok had closed and bolted it.
Kazuma hammered on the door. “Hey! Let me in! You let me in right now!”
No response came.
He glared at the door, then turned and walked away in a huff. This was going to take a little more time than he thought.
#
It was going to take a lot more time than he thought.
Kazuma scowled as Barok rose from his seat in the parlor to go to his bedroom alone, as he had the past two nights as well. Three whole days of their vacation had been wasted on Barok taking him to see doctors and experts and, most importantly, not rekindling their relationship.
As if sensing the hostility directed toward him, Barok turned around to face him. “Yes?”
“Am I allowed in your bed tonight, my lord?”
“No.”
He gritted his teeth in frustration. “When will I be?”
“Never.”
“Wha—”
“It is out of the question.”
Despair descended over him. Even after he had gone this far to restore the relationship he’d lost, it was still hopeless. He’d never had a chance at all. “So you no longer love me,” he whispered.
Barok’s eyes widened. “No, that isn’t…”
“Because of who I am with my memories. You hate that man so much, you can’t look at me the way you used to.” Every word felt like a dagger being driven into his own heart, but Kazuma forced himself to say them anyway. “You’re not able to love me anymore.”
Barok’s face crumpled, and he put his hands over his face. “Pray do not believe that. Believe anything you wish, but not that. I love you now more than ever.”
“You sure have a strange way of showing it.” Kazuma folded his arms. “If that’s how you feel, why don’t you even want to kiss me?”
“I do want to kiss you. Yet if you had your memories, it is you who would not want to kiss me.”
Kazuma stared at him.
“As difficult as it may be for you to believe, when you have your memories, you despise me. You would never willingly suffer my touch.” Barok looked anguished. “Allowing anything to happen between us now would be wrong. I would be taking advantage of your condition in a most terrible way.”
Oh.
Oh no.
This entire plan had been doomed to failure from the start, but not because Barok’s resentment was too great an obstacle to overcome. Rather, it was his morality that stood in the way. He’d never touch his amnesiac apprentice again, not when he believed the real Kazuma hated him.
“But I love you,” Kazuma whispered.
A sad smile played across Barok’s lips. “How I wish I could hear you say those words when you’re truly yourself.”
His heart skipped a beat. What? What??
“Good night.”
Barok turned and walked to the staircase, leaving Kazuma alone to grapple with what he’d just heard.
#
In the morning, Kazuma steeled himself for what was to come. He left the mask and cloak in his room and marched downstairs to the dining room, where Barok sat eating breakfast.
The other man lifted his head, and his eyes widened. “Your memories… have they…?”
Kazuma crossed the room until he reached the table and then glared at him, fists clenched. “I spent the past three days pretending to have amnesia because I thought it was the only way you’d ever love me! Last night, you implied that you love me anyway, so you had better either kiss me right now or get down on your knees and apologize for making me humiliate myself by admitting this!”
Barok stared at him. He slowly stood up. “Asogi, do you mean to tell me you were faking—”
“I said, either kiss me or get down on your knees and apologize!”
A gloved hand catching his jabot was his only warning before Barok tugged him forward and crushed their lips together. Kazuma gasped, then kissed him back with all the passion he’d repressed these past few weeks, the way he had kissed him back before his memories returned, and it was like the time in between had never occurred.
It was pure magic to kiss Barok again, to feel one arm curling around him while his other hand rested on his back, to tug him down just enough to easily reach his lips, to taste him and explore his mouth until all his cares melted away.
When they separated for air, Kazuma gave him a wild grin. “Now this is more like it!” He grabbed Barok’s hand and tugged him away from the table. “Let’s head to the bedroom and make up for lost time.”
“W-Wait a minute, Kazuma.”
“Nope, I’ve done enough waiting. Bedroom.”
“There are many things we need to discuss before we—”
“Bedroom. Now.”
Barok rolled his eyes. “Kazuma, my love, I will spend the remainder of our vacation in the bedroom with you if you wish, as long as we sit down and discuss things first.”
Any objections died on Kazuma’s lips died as he took in the other man’s words. “Wait. If we talk now, we can spend the entire rest of our vacation in the bedroom?”
“If that is your wish.”
Kazuma sat down so fast he nearly missed the chair. “What are we waiting for? Start talking!”
Barok pinched the bridge of his nose and sank back into his own seat. “Pray forgive me, but I need a moment to adjust to all these… revelations. I was certain that you still hated me.”
“Not for a long time,” Kazuma said.
“Why did you not tell me your feelings had changed?”
“I thought you hated me!”
“So you concluded feigning amnesia was the better course of action?”
“Sure seemed easier at the time,” he muttered.
“Do you have any idea how—”
“I love you,” Kazuma said before he could continue. “I thought you’d only love me back if I lost my memories again. That’s why I did it.”
Barok shook his head, but fondness filled his gaze. “Then let me make sure there is no further room for doubt. I love you, Kazuma. My love for you has only grown stronger over the past few months. Even if you were once my enemy, the man you are now is so admirable that I cannot help but love you more than ever.”
Embarrassed, Kazuma looked away. “Yes, well… I guess I appreciate you more than I let on, too.”
“My, you certainly were more open about your feelings whilst feigning amnesia.”
The teasing note in his voice made Kazuma snap his gaze back to him and narrow his eyes. “Since you know everything I said, why are you insisting we talk about it now?”
Barok’s amused look faded into seriousness once again. “I simply wish to confirm… you truly believe this relationship will work? You believe love can flourish between us?”
Kazuma swallowed hard. “I don’t know. But I want to try.”
“Then so do I. Although I implore you to never pull a stunt like this ahead.”
They held each other’s gazes for a moment, and the silence grew warm and comfortable. Heart lighter than it had been in weeks, Kazuma stood up. “Now, in case you’ve forgotten, we have unfinished business in the bedroom.”
Barok rose from the table as well. “You were joking about spending the entire rest of our vacation there, were you not?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Spare me.”
“Hey, you’re the one who offered. You brought this on yourself.”
And despite Barok’s grumbling, Kazuma couldn’t help but notice that he followed him toward the staircase without complaint.