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1.
“Are you truly willing to do anything to get to Britain?”
Kazuma blinked. Judge Jigoku’s voice was eerily calm, with a twinge of inquisitiveness and something he couldn’t really name that sounded ominously close to malice.
“Yes, sir.” He answered readily. As if he hadn’t prepared almost half of his life for this very moment. As if he hadn’t studied and pushed himself to every limit to get even a chance to be eligible for this program at all.
The judge arched his brows. “Surely there has to be something you wouldn’t be willing to do.”
It was evident to Kazuma that he was studying him more closely, more curiously.
“I would do… absolutely anything, sir.” He inhaled sharply. “I would go as far as to give up my life if it meant I could get the answers I’m looking for.” And that seemed to be exactly the reply Jigoku was expecting, for the corners of his lips immediately quirked upwards – and, this time, Kazuma did feel all the malice he was previously unsure of.
“How about killing someone?”
He froze in place, a whirlwind of questions forming in his mind that he knew from the judge’s tone would absolutely not be answered. That was madness. It made no sense. For what purpose? Why would Jigoku even want him to do that? Why any student, for that matter?
And then something weird – something disgusting and terrible creeped up his spine as he slowly realized that he wasn’t as horrified as he ought to be. That somehow had him shook even more than the proposition itself, and yet he knew he just couldn’t falter – not now, not when he was just one “yes” away from the resolution to all his problems.
It wasn’t hard to figure out that Judge Jigoku asked him specifically because he knew he was the only one who could be coerced into the plan. Yet another fine example of how rotten to the core his country truly was. It was sick. It also didn’t matter.
Kazuma steeled himself, took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and nodded silently.
“Then congratulations are in order, Asogi Kazuma. You’ve been officially selected for the student exchange program.”
He already knew, right there and then, that he had just signed away his soul.
-
When he finally left that godforsaken room, the dread in the pit of his stomach was growing wilder by the seconds. The details he was oh so graciously offered were scarce: place, victim – victim, goodness, this was surreal – and just a tidbit of information about the travel and the actual study program. Kazuma wanted to throw up. This was insane. He was insane. What in the ever-loving f-
“Y-You’re back! How did it go?!”
Ah. Right. Ryunosuke had been waiting right outside the office. Kazuma did his best to snap back from what had just happened and immediately wore his most brilliant smile.
“Well, partner, it seems like I’m going to Britain.” Never mind everything else that was attached to that.
Bless his heart, Ryunosuke didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, for his eyes just widened and his lips parted in such a display of joy and excitement that Kazuma wished he could fully share.
“Of course you are! I’m so proud of you,” he beamed, placing a gentle hand on his arm and squeezing it softly. He hoped his friend wouldn’t notice the slight tremors he’s had all over his body ever since stepping out of that door.
“And yet you looked so surprised,” Kazuma retorted with a little smug. “Did you really doubt me?”
Maybe you should.
“Not one bit,” Ryunosuke pouted earnestly, and God knows Kazuma would’ve loved to look at that face forever. To embed in every single one of his neurons that solid trust and utter belief that his partner had in him. “But, ah- you look a little pale, so I thought… maybe…”
Externally, Kazuma just hummed. Internally, he screamed at himself for not being good enough at concealing his emotions. What could he even answer to that, if not with a lie? Ah, that’s just because Judge Jigoku wants me to murder someone in exchange of being selected, you know, as these things normally go. Yes. Not a big deal at all.
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Kazuma said instead. It wasn’t even actually a lie; he did stay up until very late because he kept thinking about the meeting, over and over and over again. He prepared dozens of speeches, listed a million reasons why he was worthy of his place in the program, pored over the application form so much he had memorised it down to the slightly misplaced splotches of ink on the paper.
Not a full lie then, just a huge omission on his part. As per usual.
“I can imagine,” Ryunosuke nodded, “Maybe we should reschedule our training session, you should get some rest in.”
Resting was possibly the last thing Kazuma wanted to do in that moment. Resting would only mean thinking, and if he thought any longer about what he had just agreed to do he was going to lose his mind. Killing someone. Was he really going to kill someone? …No, obviously not. He had agreed with the full intent of disregarding the actual objective of his “mission” all along; it was just a means to reach Britain. Anything to get there. Anything to find the truth. Anything…
“Kazuma?”
His stupid mind was wandering again. His hands were shaking. Very unbecoming of an Asogi.
There was worry in Ryunosuke’s eyes now. “You’re not okay.”
“I apologise. There’s nothing to worry about, really,” and Kazuma could tell the smile he was offering his partner wasn’t convincing enough. “I just…”
What would it be like to tell him? To have someone he could share his mountain of burdens with? For a moment, he let himself imagine a scenario in which he did. Not a single one of them ended well – and how could it? Your best friend of a grand total of some months tells you he’s going to the other side of the world to solve a ten year long mystery and potentially committing murder on the way (he wasn’t). Nobody in their right mind would just accept that, definitely not caring, kind-hearted and honest Ryunosuke. Definitely not a man who sees Kazuma as his pride and joy.
Not to say he didn’t trust his partner, though. Far from it. He knew damn well that Ryunosuke was also loyal to a fault – he surely would’ve tried to understand. And because he knew he cared, Kazuma could picture him trying to dissuade him from his goals, to look for another way, to tell him it was simply wrong and a suicide mission. (It was wrong. If something didn’t go exactly as planned, it could’ve also been suicidal too.)
It would be pointless. He had already made his choice and he was going to see it through no matter the cost. Involving others would’ve simply hurt them or worse- put them in danger. And, selfishly, he didn’t really want to ruin Ryunosuke’s view of him – to ruin whatever it was they had and his one sweet tether.
So, yes. He had absolute and utmost faith in Ryunosuke. He really wasn’t the issue.
“I am a tad overwhelmed, alright. But absolutely nothing could bring me more joy than sparring with you right now, my friend!”
Kazuma was.
2.
Smuggling a person to Britain was, theoretically, a disaster of an idea. The fact that nobody seemed to have noticed how his trunk was weighing way too much for being just luggage was absurd. A lawman should’ve probably said something. Thankfully, Kazuma was just a student.
The crewman in charge of handling his belongings was rough to say the least. Kazuma could’ve easily brought his… things to the cabin on his own, but the man had insisted on carrying them instead. To be fair, they almost fought over it as Kazuma kept standing his ground with arguments such as “it’s really not that heavy” (lie), “there are fragile items inside” (true), “my luggage is very personal and only I must handle it” (debatable, but definitely true if you asked him) – obviously, they didn’t fly. Especially because he could tell that the Russian man found him extremely suspicious already, throwing side glances at Karuma every once in a while.
Well. Hopefully Ryunosuke wouldn’t die due to questionable manhandling.
The crewman all but tossed his luggage onto the floor and, for a split second, Kazuma panicked. A clearly audible squeal was heard right after, which meant two things: one, that Ryunosuke was at the very least still alive and breathing, and two, they were probably fucked.
Crewman Strogenov’s hearing was, unfortunately, really good.
“What was that?!” He yelled immediately, his eyes boring holes on Kazuma’s face. “Did you bring pet?!”
“Of course not,” he answered as smoothly as humanly possible. “I’m ashamed to say, but… that was my stomach, sir.”
Strogenov’s gaze turned a little funny as he looked at him up and down. “…Stomach screams?”
Kazuma brought his hands to his belly and tried to make a pained face. “Very loudly too.”
Somehow, that worked. He thanked every single star above as the crewman finally left the cabin, still eyeing him suspiciously and muttering something in a language he couldn’t understand. Kazuma waited and listened until he could no longer hear any step in the corridor before opening his trunk, where a terrified looking Ryunosuke was shaking inside.
“He’s gone. We did it,” he grinned, offering a hand to his poor traumatised friend.
Ryunosuke grabbed it immediately, with so much force and eagerness to leave that case that he almost brought both of them down to the floor. “I thought I was going to die!”
“That would be quite a headline. ‘Tiny Japanese man found dead while stowing away’… pfft.”
“Hey! What about ‘Arrogant Japanese student found smuggling dead friend overseas’, huh?”
Kazuma’s laughter boomed through the walls of the cabin, and Ryunosuke followed suit. And perhaps they should’ve been quieter, but it didn’t matter in that moment; their crazy plan had worked and they were really going to Britain. Together.
As they unpacked the bags that contained things they’d need on the ship, Kazuma started pondering the logistics of the next fifty days. For one, they would probably both be a little famished, since they’d have to share all the food. That was fine, though. The bathroom… was something he’d happily let Ryunosuke sort out on his own, and he could hide in the wardrobe in case someone visited.
As for sleeping, well. There was only one bed.
“Say, Ryunosuke. Will you sleep with me?”
His partner’s beet red cheeks and his subsequent sputtering were a delight to Kazuma’s ears.
-
“Do you really sleep with your headband on?”
After deliberating whether it would be too uncomfortable for Kazuma to share his bed and reassuring Ryunosuke that no, he really didn’t mind, they finally turned off the lights and laid down. He discovered two interesting facts: first, Ryunosuke preferred sleeping facing the inner part of the bed – something about being afraid of falling off since he had only ever slept in a futon before; second, that this gave Kazuma the chance of facing his partner the whole time and watching him sleep. And wasn’t that its own little blessing.
Kazuma’s hand went up to touch the headband he was wearing. He barely even registered it as a foreign presence on his forehead anymore; it stayed on through almost everything he did. “…Always, yes. Why do you ask?”
Ryunosuke smiled fondly. “It’s pretty cute. …I-I mean, um,” he stuttered, cheeks reddening once more, and Kazuma swore he could’ve started a chain of “no you”s right there and then.
“Why, thank you,” he smirked, “the person it reminds me of is also pretty cute.”
Suddenly, a pillow was smothering him – which was probably good, because it muffled his subsequent laughter enough to avoid being heard by whoever could’ve been standing outside.
“You can’t just say stuff like that!” Ryunosuke babbled, and he could tell without even looking that his eyes were so wide they could’ve popped out of his head. There was no more pressure on the pillow, but it stayed planted on his face. “That’s it! That’s how you’re going to sleep tonight. Punishment for your hubris, Asogi Kazuma.”
-
“Do not forget... to fulfil the mission imposed upon you.”
“.........I understand... Your Excellency.”
Pillow or not, Kazuma couldn’t sleep. The thought of his “mission” and Judge Jigoku’s voice haunted his ears and millions of new questions and doubts were growing inside his head. Not about what he was pursuing, per se – no, there was nothing he was more determined about than finally reaching Britain and finding his answers. The mere thought of it being right there for his fingertips to grasp was electrifying and Kazuma had sincerely never felt more alive; it was everything else around it that was so uncertain and, admittedly, a little daunting.
First of all, his friends were still none the wiser. Neither Ryunosuke nor Susato suspected a single thing, and the more time passed the less he had any idea about how to explain it all to them. Perhaps it was a bit too late for that, considering they were already at sea now – there was no going back. And anyway, Kazuma wasn’t sure how telling them would benefit anyone; the second they’d be aware of the assassination plot they’d either have to report him to the authorities or become accomplices in case anything happened. But keeping them in the dark felt just as vile, with all the faith they placed in him.
Neither solution seemed right.
The other pressing issue was: what would happen after? Kazuma didn’t particularly care for his own future, past exposing all the lies about his father’s guilt; he was more than ready to lay down his life for it. But what of his sister? What of his partner?
Would they be punished for failing in completing Jigoku’s mission? …Should he truly fulfil it, if only to make sure they would be safe?
Kazuma sat bolt upright at the concept. He thought himself a resourceful man, but his plans had felt way more concrete when they were still all in his head. The more they materialised, the more tangled up they became. His gaze wandered to his katana; the great sword Karuma sat proudly right next to the bed, its golden details glinting faintly in the moonlight. It would guide him towards justice, would it not?
“Kazuma…?” A little whisper snapped him from his thoughts. “Did you have a nightmare?”
He reminded himself to exhale.
“Just a lot of things on my mind.” Kazuma lowered himself back to the mattress and handed Ryunosuke his pillow back. His partner looked barely awake, but he grabbed it immediately and placed it below his head. “You can go back to sleep now.”
“No, no,” Ryunosuke protested, rubbing his eyes slowly. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”
And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it?
“…”
As always, Ryunosuke had a knack for reading into people. “It’s your mission, isn’t it?” he asked. “It’s weighing on your mind.”
“It’s… complicated,” Kazuma sighed. “I can’t put into words how important it is to me.”
Ryunosuke frowned. “Is it related to the favour you wanted to ask me?”
“Always so perceptive,” he smiled. Kazuma wasn’t really sure how to say the rest, though. “There’s a reason why I need to go to Great Britain. Something I’d give up everything for.”
“Everything? Really?”
“Everything.”
Ryunosuke stayed quiet for a while, looking pensive.
“Why did you risk it then?” he asked eventually, in a low, almost imperceptible voice. “During my trial. If I hadn’t represented myself, you could’ve…”
The answer to that was so obvious and simple that Kazuma just had to laugh at it. “You enjoyed lawyering so badly that you’re now looking for contradictions everywhere?”
Ryunosuke glared at him. “Don’t deflect.”
Ah. Perhaps it wasn’t as obvious as he assumed. “Ryunosuke,” he breathed, serious and calm; his eyes staring straight into his partner’s. “Do you honestly think I wouldn’t risk anything with your life at stake?”
It looked as if Ryunosuke was wondering whether or not to rebut, but he eventually settled on not doing so and lowered his gaze.
“I can hear the gears clacking in your brain all the way from here, you know,” Kazuma continued, slightly annoyed. Did he seriously not…? “You’re very dear to me. You should know that.”
“I-I do!” Ryunosuke exclaimed, a little too loudly for the time. “Me too. I don’t doubt you. But it’s still- ouch!”
Kazuma flicked a finger on his forehead, wishing he could use other methods to shut his partner up. “Do you know why I wanted you to come with me?”
“To… tear up the streets of London together?”
He snorted a little. “That too. But mostly… the thing I’d give up almost everything for. I’d like for you to see it through with me,” he admitted.
“I… of course I will. You know that,” Ryunosuke promised. That was already enough for him. “You can tell me. Once you feel ready,” he added.
“I will. And… thank you.”
If he only knew how wrong things were about to turn.
3.
That goddamned wax figure. The horrifying and stifling iron mask that clattered on the ground, the disgustingly realistic details, the man’s contorted face, those sickeningly familiar eyes.
He felt as if a million grenades exploded simultaneously through his synapses, tearing down the fragile tissue of new memories and knowledge he’d gained in the past few months. The flow of images erupting in his brain was relentless and ruthless; the number of emotions so overwhelming that he thought he was going to die.
The chaos in his head was so deafening that he barely heard something shatter in his hands – the pain so excruciating and ringing that he almost didn’t even register himself letting out a long, guttural, despairing scream.
And then, just like that, everything went white as Kazuma remembered himself.
“Fa… Father…”
He hadn’t spoken in months, and definitely not in his mother tongue. For a second, Japanese felt so relieving in his mouth as his memories were flooding in. His name. His country. His family.
Remembering his family was a special kind of hell. Kazuma saw the faces of his parents, heard their voices right in his ears, so close, so close… and then he relived their deaths all over again in an instant. His father’s last wave goodbye as he boarded on a ship. His mother letting herself waste away until he was completely alone. All the grief he’d forgotten echoed frantically in his chest as he realised that the voice he’d been hearing all those months – the one guiding him here to Britain – was his father’s all along.
The mask on his face felt heavier than it ever did. He took it off slowly, carefully, as if opening his eyes more would trigger another infinite round of bombing in his head – and then someone called out to him.
Kazuma thought he recognised the voice. Well, he’d heard it a lot in the past few days and he knew it belonged to Naruhodo, but – it was different. He’d known that voice for much longer than that. His university days danced before his eyelids and he remembered that he was a law student as he’d suspected for a while now. And that man…
“Ryunosuke…”
His friend gaped at him, misty eyes wide and incredulous as he stared at him, as if blinking would have made Kazuma disappear. Ryunosuke’s face then filled with relief and joy as he greeted him with all the warmth of the world.
“Kazuma-sama!”
And this… this was his judicial assistant. His dear sister. The smell of the countless teas they shared together filled his nostrils and, if he tried hard enough, he could see the tiny snowmen they used to build in the back of his mind. “Mikotoba-houmujoshi…”
The flux of thoughts grew less rapid, less devastating. The splitting headaches had accompanied him for almost a year now and, while those stabbing pains were roaring louder than ever in his brain, Kazuma finally felt as if he was slowly regaining his grip on the present.
Ryunosuke had his soul at his side, he noticed. Karuma looked better than ever, he could tell; his katana was very well cared for, now wrapped in a fiery red ribbon- no, his hachimaki, Kazuma remembered. His armband sat loosely on Ryunosuke’s arm, too. He carried them all as if they were mementos of a departed soul, and he briefly wondered what exactly happened among them while he was incapacitated.
With Karuma in his hands once more, the scattered puzzle pieces in his head started making a clearer picture. His father’s statue. The Professor. His mission.
“I’ve made it at last… Father.”
Every fibre of his body was now flaming in anger and resolve as he finally faced that farce of a corpse head on, finding it more and more depraved the longer he stared at it. It was eerily close to his father’s appearance, so much so he could imagine it moving, his hair fluttering gently in the wind, that twisted face reshaping itself into the kind smile he used to wear.
It was a disgraceful piece. Perfectly made, yet so impossibly inaccurate and detached from his father’s soul at the same time; for those were decidedly not his eyes, and that was not his face, and he would never have looked so despicable. On top of that, it had been muzzled up for all these years – perhaps just like his father, and wasn’t that a terrifying thought. His father, still now trapped in a suffocating iron mask somewhere deep in Lowgate Cemetery, dehumanised to such lengths over what Kazuma knew had to be a fabricated conspiracy.
He decapitated the statue with a single swift strike.
There was a lot Kazuma wanted to tell his friends. There was also a lot he had to do now that his mission was at the forefront of his mind once more. That and, more importantly, he knew Gregson would leave Britain soon.
There wasn’t enough time and he couldn’t afford to waste any of it on explanations and potential arguments, so he did what he did best.
Leave.
4.
“So… an assassination program.”
Kazuma closed his eyes. He really should have figured that Ryunosuke would’ve followed him to his office right after the trial, no matter that he’d said goodbye just a little while before. Well, he did expect it. Maybe even hoped so.
The door to the office had been left wide open for a reason.
“I thought you were helping Iris with dinner.”
Obviously the wrong answer and he could tell that his friend was visibly upset, but it wasn’t like Ryunosuke didn’t already have a million reasons to be. Kazuma pressed his lips into a thin line and dropped his gaze to the tiny policeman figure he had been toying with for the past half an hour.
It was all over. There was nothing left to hide. All of his secrets, all of his mistakes, hopes and fears had been displayed and discussed at length during the past few days – there was nothing left. Nothing at all.
He noticed that Ryunosuke’s fists were balled up as he strode towards him. “Please, Kazuma. Just… stop deflecting,” and oh, his voice was heartbreaking in its own way, wasn’t it? A mix of sadness and anger and a whole lot of disappointment that permeated through every syllable. A tone that he’d never heard Ryunosuke speak in before, and knowing that he was the one reason for it was just another painful reminder of all the wrongs he’d done.
Kazuma’s eyes went a little bit up, enough to look at Ryunosuke, because he owed him at least that much, but not enough to fully observe him – he didn’t need more reminders.
“I’ve already said I was never going to go through with it.” Another wrong answer.
“I know,” Ryunosuke said, slightly exasperated, not even realising that his trust sounded impossible to Kazuma after everything. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Kazuma stopped toying with one of the tiny policemen still lying on the scale model he’d made. “Who could I tell? Realistically,” he added before his friend could answer “me” – who had already opened his mouth to protest, only to deflate slightly right after. If it was any other situation, he would’ve found his rapid expression changing pretty funny.
“Well, Professor Mikotoba, for one.”
“He already lied to me about my father’s death,” to protect me was only uttered in his thoughts. “And I… couldn’t burden him with the rest.”
Ryunosuke frowned. “You… were never a burden. To any of us.”
Kazuma really wasn’t equipped for this kind of conversation.
“I had you and Susato follow me all the way to Britain, fully knowing what I was setting out for,” he stated, very matter-of-factly. “After your feats in court, I fully intended for you to be with me in case I-” he never intended to kill anyone. Right? “-in case something happened and I found myself in the gaol.”
Kazuma finally looked at him straight in the eyes, and maybe his friend had grown even more than he thought. His gaze was almost picture-perfect calm, fixed on him and never wandering anywhere; Ryunosuke stood strong and sure even in the face of the worst words Kazuma could’ve ever said. He probably had no right to be, but he was so proud.
“That doesn’t make you a burden,” Ryunosuke replied. “It makes you… um-” not quite a stutter, just a pause to think. “It makes you… dumb.”
“Dumb,” Kazuma gaped.
“Very.”
“Dumb,” he repeated. Ryunosuke hummed.
It was clear that further explanation was needed.
“First of all, you’re making it sound as if you manipulated us into it,” Ryunosuke started.
“Because I pretty much did,” Kazuma objected. “You wouldn’t have come with me if you knew.”
Was this turning into a cross-examination? Because it sure sounded like it – and his friend seemed to think similarly, because he had the same confident expression he would show in the courtroom whenever he found a contradiction in a testimony.
“You can’t know that, since you never asked.”
Touché. Well, it takes two to tango.
“That is incredibly flimsy evidence, attorney,” he countered with a hint of a smirk. “Circumstantial at best. It doesn’t change the fact that you still didn’t know.”
Ryunosuke smiled a bit and for once it felt as if they were back in Yumei, bickering over something silly like they used to do.
“That’s true, we didn’t,” he conceded. “And I am upset about it. However, I can say for myself that if I knew that my partner was going through all that there would be no other place I’d rather be than with him.”
That absolutely did not have Kazuma make a little strangled noise. And his cheeks were not tingling at all, thank you very much.
Maybe he was indeed dumb, because that was for sure the dumbest reaction he could’ve had. He let the words sink in deeper and the more he absorbed them, the more he found himself undeserving.
“I think- no, I know that I would’ve wanted to make sure that, in the end, you’d be… safe,” Ryunosuke continued, thankfully ignoring his reaction. “That you wouldn’t have done anything rash, or put yourself in any more danger.”
Undeserving, undeserving, undeserving. Far too much kindness for everything he’d done.
“I’m sorry for taking away your choice,” Kazuma breathed, “For what it’s worth, I never planned for it to get this messy.”
A light squeeze on his shoulder. He didn’t know what forgiveness was supposed to look like, but he could swear he could see it in Ryunosuke’s eyes. Undeserving.
Wallowing in his own pity was probably more pathetic than anything he’d ever done, but thankfully his partner wouldn’t let him go on for longer.
Ryunosuke was now grinning. “Now, for the second contradiction,” he announced, “you said you wanted me to come with you so that I could defend you in court. Correct?”
Oh, he was enjoying it alright, wasn’t he.
“That’s what I said, yes.”
“…The issue here is really obvious, Kazuma.”
He felt miles behind. He wasn’t sure whether to be prouder or feel even dumber.
“You had already asked me to join you before my trial,” Ryunosuke explained. “You still wanted me around before even knowing I could be of any use to you.”
The wording stung. The sole thought of his closest ones thinking he was just using them for his schemes hurt more than Kazuma thought it would.
“You’re not an object to be used,” he stressed, and God did he hope he would be believed. “You were never a tool for- are you seriously laughing right now, Naruhodo Ryunosuke?!”
The man was all but snickering smugly right in his face, laughing a little louder after his outburst. Kazuma was having one of the worst days of his life and he was laughing.
“See? Point proven.”
Oh.
“Did you just- coax me into-” he mumbled, massaging his temples. “You really are an incredible lawyer.”
No matter how many times Kazuma had already said as such, Ryunosuke still gasped every time he was complimented, the tips of his ears slightly cherry tinted. Wonderful, dearest, humble Ryunosuke.
“Well, uh- you know, my third and final point is,” stuttering again, but regaining composure just a second after, “you couldn’t have manipulated me into defending you. I would’ve always done it regardless of you asking.”
“Even if I did truly kill Gregson?” Kazuma could’ve never defended a murderer. But maybe that was why he wasn’t the defence attorney among the two any longer.
At that, Ryunosuke shook his head. “I wouldn’t have done so in that case. Because that would’ve never happened in the first place.”
“How could you know that?” He didn’t know himself.
“I’ll always know that. Because… no matter what, I trust you, Kazuma.”
Undeserving.
“There’s nothing in the world that would drive you to take one’s life.”
Undeserving and unfair.
Kazuma felt himself crumble little by little. “But I almost-”
Ryunosuke cupped his cheeks with both hands, warm and solid and certain, staring at him so hard that he could swear he was reading his soul. “But you didn’t.”
“I… didn’t.” And maybe, just maybe, it could really be that simple.
Kazuma felt Ryunosuke’s thumbs stroking his undereyes before realising he was crying. It was the first time he’d cried in front of someone since he was a child and, for once, it didn’t feel one bit shameful. It felt comfortable and safe.
It felt true.
“I’ll give you my final argument now,” Ryunosuke started, breaking the silence. “I think you didn’t tell us anything because you didn’t want to involve us, but at the same time you didn’t actually want to do this alone.”
He was looking at Kazuma expectantly, as if waiting for confirmation to continue. He would’ve easily objected because at the end of the day he did still selfishly involve them without their consent, but his friend sounded too serious to interrupt right now. He simply nodded, and Ryunosuke went on.
“You kept postponing telling us the truth because you were afraid we would’ve left you if we knew. And then,” he inhaled, “it was too late.”
Kazuma lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been hell for you.”
Ryunosuke hummed, non-committal. “You lied and you hid. You hurt us. That’s all true,” he stated, and then one of his hands went to Kazuma’s chin, lifting his head back up to face him again. “But that does not a monster make, Kazuma.”
“I… suppose not.”
It would’ve taken much more time to actually accept that notion, though. His soul felt as broken as Karuma’s tip, split in two between the part of him that was sure he wouldn’t have become a murderer and the part that saw his blade going through Gregson’s chest every time he closed his eyes.
But still…
Would it be so bad to let himself believe? If not in himself, in Ryunosuke’s words. And if he truly found a demon within his heart, he could figure out how to exorcise it before it took over his body. It wasn’t too late, right?
“Does the prosecution rest their case, then?”
For once, the smile on Kazuma’s lips felt real. “I guess it does. Looks like you’ve won twice in a day, partner.”
That word had never felt so right before, either. It came from a lifetime ago, when things were easier and he was a better person. He’d missed saying it so, so much – it had felt too close for everything that happened in the past few days, unfit for his lips.
It felt right for Ryunosuke as well, if the glint in his eyes was anything to go by. Kazuma let his head rest on the other’s for a little while, forehead to forehead, lulled by the quiet of the evening.
“I also want to apologise to you. For… never really seeing you,” Ryunosuke admitted softly. “I should’ve looked harder.”
Kazuma shook his head – as if he could ever actually fault him for that. “How could I ever make it right to you, Ryunosuke?”
“Mmm… you could try dropping all this massive guilt you’re carrying, for one,” he answered. The man had a list, huh. “You made mistakes. You can work on improving yourself. Not to measure up to… impossible standards,” and Kazuma could feel his friend’s eyebrows knitting, “or to be worthy of forgiveness. Just for yourself. But, for what it’s worth, that would make me happy too.”
“Then, apologise to Susato-san and Professor Mikotoba. They love you more than you can imagine, and you’ve hurt them,” he continued. “They are your family.”
Kazuma blinked. The guilt part was not really working already, but he swore he would try harder.
“Lastly, uh- if you’d like. We could get celebratory steak,” Ryunosuke blurted timidly, right before steeling himself once more and adding, “on you,” with a mischievous grin.
“…Ha ha ha ha hah!”
It was Kazuma’s first genuine laughter since he had left the SS Burya. It boomed throughout the office, resonating loudly in his heart and on his whole face. He laughed so much and so freely that their foreheads bumped together several times – and maybe they’d even have bruises the day after, but they’d be happy bruises and at the end of the day, did that even matter at all?
“Of course I would. Just like old times!” He laughed harder. “But I believe the defence is forgetting that they already have a previous engagement for dinner.”
Ryunosuke stared at him blankly because, indeed, the defence had forgotten. But then his eyes got huge, as if he’d just gotten the smartest idea ever, and he smiled brightly in the way only a sun like him could.
“I can have two dinners!”