Chapter Text
It was late at night, the sky outside a pitch black and the light inside warm but dim. A crib stood in the middle of the room, iris sleeping soundly, her hands curled up around her head, her small chest rising and falling with each breath.
Sholmes and Mikotoba were laying in their bed, their bodies intertwined. His leg was between Yujin's, his arms wrapped around the older man's waist. His face was buried in his neck, his thin lips slightly parted in his sleep.
Yujin lay awake, one hand resting on Herlock's back, the other one caressing his hair. His eyes were barely open, his lips pressing against the man's head. He exhaled softly, his eyes flicking to the small figure laying in the cot before focusing on Sholmes again.
He couldn't believe he was allowed to be in this moment right now with him. The sight of Sholmes, sleeping in his arms, his robe untied and his chest on display. The way his lips were parted, the way his eyelashes fluttered in the midst of his dreams made him want to stay in time. Even though he knew it was irrational, even though he had to go home to Susato, his sweet Susato, all he wanted was to stay here.
He was pulled out of his thoughts and quiet appreciation, Sholmes stirred. It was slow, his breaths picking up slightly, his arms tightening his grip around the man. He mumbled something, pressing his head further into his neck, before opening his eyes. Mikotoba felt the eyelashes flutter against the delicate skin of his neck, and he could feel his stomach warm.
“Yujin” the man muttered sleepily. “Are you ok? Has Iris stirred?”
Mikotoba swallowed, shaking his head.
“No, no she hasn't. Still sleeping like an angel.”
Sholmes nodded, pushing his face further into his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. He pressed his body against his subtly.
“But she will be awake soon, no doubt.”
Mikotoba nodded, his fingers gripping Sholmes’ hair tighter. He closed his eyes, his hand splaying over Sholmes’ back, pulling him tighter.
“She will.”
Sholmes hummed, lifting his head up to look at the man.
“Is something wrong? You're acting different?”
Mikotoba paused, caressing his back. He shook his head.
“No. I'm quite alright.”
Herlock narrowed his eyes playfully.
“I doubt it. You can't fool me, my dear fellow, I'm the greatest detective in London after all.”
Mikotoba huffed out a small laugh, making sure to keep quiet as not to wake the baby.
“I'm just thinking. I'll be leaving in two weeks, you know.”
Herlock hummed, a small frown on his face.
“Yes. I suppose you will.”
He paused.
“But don't worry over it now. You're with me, so focus on that. You can't just ignore me over that.”
Mikotoba smiled, shaking his bed.
“I won't.”
He kissed his head.
“I'll focus on you.”
Herlock hummed in content. He sat up, sitting between Mikotoba's legs, pulling him closer. He cradled the man's face, pressing a chaste kiss to it. He pulled away, studying his face, his eyes roaming over every feature. He hummed softly, brushing the mans hair out of his face.
“How much longer will you be staying in England? Surely you’ll have to return home soon.”
Mikotoba’s lips pulled into a thin line, his heart aching in his chest.
“In two weeks, my dear. That’s when my ship leaves.”
Herlock nodded, pushing himself off of the man and standing up, slipping his robe on and grabbing his pipe. He crossed the room, flicking a lamp on.
“I’ll write to you. Every week, so you’ll never forget who I am.”
Mikotoba’s face softened, a small smile gracing his lips. Her pushed the blanket off of him, slipping into slippers and following the man across the room. He wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him tightly.
“I don’t think I could forget you. You’re a very memorable man.”
Herlock grinned, puffing his chest out proudly.
“Of course I am. My genius is amazing, my dear fellow.”
A small snuffle interrupted their conversation, their heads turning to look at Iris. She was waking up, her small fists clenching and unclenching, her mouth yawning adorably. She opened her eyes, a small whimper coming out of her mouth as she realised she was alone. Herlock crossed the room quickly, scooping the baby up and cradling her against his chest, swaying gently and patting her back.
“There, there, dear Iris. Please do not cry, you’ve done enough of that today.”
She let out a small sound, burrowing further into his chest and seeking his warmth. She yawned again, her hands curling around his robe. He stared down at her, a slight look of awe on his face. He looked up at Mikotoba.
“She’s such a small creature. Utterly helpless and tiny. It’s a bit hard to believe she can exist, really.”
Mikotoba huffed out a laugh, stepping closer to the two of them. He fixed one of Iris’ socks, patting her leg lightly. He stared up at her.
“Will you be alright when I’m gone, Herlock? Looking after her by yourself?”
Sholmes hesitated, before nodding.
“I shall be alright. I’ll mail you updates every week.”
Mikotoba hesitated, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of Iris’ leg. He sighed, lifting his hand up to squeeze his arm.
“If you’re sure about it. It’ll be harder once I’m gone.”
Herlock nodded, offering him a smile.
“I know, my dear. But everything will be alright, I swear.”
Mikotoba nodded, pressing a kiss to the mans head. He worried for him and Iris. He knew how the detective could get. Refusing to eat and to sleep when working on a case, making a mess of his office all to try to figure it out. Sometimes the man felt like he couldn’t recognise him. He could ask a question, a simple ‘How are you doing?’ and Herlock would stare at him like he didn’t know who he was.
He sighed, his brows knitting together. He knew that Herlock would be alright. He was attentive of Iris, never wanting her to be out of his sight. The moment she was awake, he was holding her in his arms and talking to her sweetly. He would be alright.
It was the day of his departure. England was a reflection of his emotions today, dreary and miserable as the rain littered the streets. He was heading down to the docks, Herlock next to him, Iris cradled against his chest, babbling contently to herself. The men didn’t say anything to each other, walking silently side by side. Mikotoba wished he didn’t have to leave. But he had to go home, it wasn’t fair on Susato, he knew that. The poor girl was being raised by his mother. He doubted she remembered much of him at this point. He sighed, gripping the umbrella tightly as he thought to himself. He stopped near the boarding area, turning slightly to look at Herlock. The other man smiled softly at him.
“I’ll miss you.”
Sholmes spoke quickly.
“Bakers Street will be empty without you.”
Mikotoba felt his heart clench, his hand shaking every so slightly. He cleared his throat, regaining his posture.
“And I will miss you. But we promised to write one another, so we’ll still be in contact.”
Herlock nodded, adjusting his hold on Iris.
“I know. But it won’t be the same.”
He sighed, placing his hand in his pocket.
“My dear fellow, you are the first person to ever make me feel this way. It’s difficult. I do not care for you in the same way I care for others, you know that. But I can’t help but feel like I’ll be losing a part of me with you.”
Mikotoba tightened his grip on the umbrella again, his heart tearing in half. He wished he could stay here and love this man, wished everything didn’t have to be the way it is. He nodded, feeling his eyes mist over.
“I’ll return to England one day.”
Herlock smiled to him. He reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small handkerchief. It was the same colour and fabric of his shirts, the scent of him lingering.
“I want you to have this. And when you return one day, give it back to me. So you don’t forget me.”
Mikotoba stared at it for a moment, his lips parting slightly. He put his case down, taking the handkerchief with slightly trembling hands. He cleared his throat, carefully folding it up and slipping it into his breast pocket.
“I will. Thank you, Sholmes.”
He smiled up at him sadly. He looked down at Iris, kissing her head and smoothing her hair.
“But I won’t forget about you. I promise.”
Herlock nodded, smiling as Iris cooed. The horn of the ship went off, reminding Mikotoba that he had to leave. He sighed, picking up his case and handing the umbrella to Sholmes.
“I’ll be going then. I’ll write you at my first stop.”
Herlock nodded, smiling at him.
“Thank you, Yujin. I shall see you again.”
Mikotoba turned away, trying to not let his emotions show as he got on the ship.