Archive of Our Own

Barok was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling of his dimly lit bedroom. His body felt empty, as if disconnected from his mind. He couldn’t think properly, a heavy fog inside his head.

He wasn’t alone.

Kazuma sat quietly at the border of his mattress, his gaze down, unfocused. Barok observed him, his chest tightening at the sight.

“Is something the matter?”

Kazuma didn’t respond, hugging his own arms. The reaction worried Barok, who sat up, eyes fixed on him.

“What is wrong?”

He tried to reach in his direction, but couldn’t bring himself to, as if the lightest touch could be enough to shatter that person close to him. After a long silence, Kazuma’s low response finally came.

“You thought you could do this to me after ruining my entire life?”

Barok couldn’t respond. Slowly, he remembered it: how they had slept together that night. No, thinking of it like that was pushing all responsibility off his hands. He knew Kazuma was in a vulnerable state, and yet, Barok let it all happen. He hadn’t even tried to stop him. And, deep down, part of him had enjoyed it.

A strong repulse grew inside him the more he thought about what had happened. He tried to find a way to apologize, but every single one seemed shallow when compared to the weight of what he had done.

A weak, hollow laugh left Kazuma’s lips. “It really makes no difference to you, does it?”

Barok wanted to deny it, but then a strange detail caught his eye. Kazuma was holding something… Barok barely had the time to recognize a metallic glint before he was thrown back over the mattress. Kazuma was over his body, eyes cold.

He wanted to ask him what he was doing, but he couldn’t. When he felt that cold blade sink into his throat, he wanted to scream, but no sound left his mouth.

“Lord van Zieks? Is everything alright?”

He opened his eyes to see Kazuma before him, his hand touching his face. Barok instinctively recoiled from that touch, moving away from Kazuma and toward the opposite end of the bed, staring terrified at his perplexed expression.

“It was just a nightmare…” said Kazuma in a low voice. “Everything is fine now.”

Barok brought a hand to his throat. No blood, no wound, no pain… A nightmare. Yes, of course it had been a nightmare. What else could it be?

“I see…” He lowered his eyes, ashamed of that reaction. “My apologies.”

Kazuma observed him quietly for a while, his expression unreadable.

“Do you want some water, or some tea?”

“No.”

Slightly hesitant, Kazuma asked a different question. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

The care in his words was both familiar and unnatural, like something beloved that had been distorted beyond recognition. Barok looked at him, part of his mind expecting to see that same hatred from his dream in his expression.

But there wasn’t hatred there. There was nothing to be seen.

“No,” he said. “I am fine now.”

“Alright. Let me know if…”

He stopped talking, as if his own words sounded wrong to him. Barok didn’t comment on it, lying down with his back toward Kazuma so he wouldn’t see his face. After a quiet minute, he felt the mattress shift beside him as Kazuma did the same.

Barok closed his eyes, his mind too restless to let him sleep. Nightmares weren’t a new thing for him, not even the ones where he found his end through someone else’s hands.

He shouldn’t be surprised to see all that fury in Kazuma’s face. If anything, that was what felt right… That desire to end him instead of that patient kindness that hurt him more than any wound.

Not only him: both of them.

The following day passed in an unremarkable manner. No grand events, no unexpected cases, only a seemingly endless pile of paperwork looming over him. Without Kazuma’s help, he would have stayed in the office during most of the night, or at the very least brought a considerable amount of work to finish at home.

It was impressive how, after everything he had gone through, the dull normalcy of that day had left him more exhausted than he had been in quite a while.

He lay in bed, and Kazuma did the same by his side. More and more often, he started to spend the night there, even when they didn’t make love. Part of Barok wanted to see it as a sign of trust, maybe even affection. Perhaps things truly didn’t need to be that difficult between them, after all…

What a laughable thought. He closed his eyes, turning to the side, allowing the exhaustion to take him whole. It seemed like no more than a few minutes had passed when a low noise made him open his eyes again and glance toward Kazuma over his shoulder. He was sitting there with his knees bent against his chest, seeming lost in thought.

“Is it morning already?” Barok asked in a tired voice.

No response, which made Barok sit up, concerned.

“Asogi?”

Hearing his name seemed to bring Kazuma back from his daze. He looked at Barok, still seeming out of it.

“Oh…” He averted his gaze with a hint of embarrassment. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“Is something the matter?”

“No, but…” Kazuma sighed, frustrated. “Do you know when you are so tired that you just can’t fall asleep?”

“I surely do. Such an unpleasant thing.”

A faint smile took over Kazuma’s lips. “It would be nice if I could just shut my mind like a book and think of nothing until morning.”

A strange sensation enveloped Barok as he nodded in response to those words. He had a feeling they had shared a conversation like that before, but the more he tried to remember it, the foggier the memory became.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, instead.

“No, I…” Kazuma stopped, considering it for a moment. “Actually, could you answer one question?”

“Certainly. What is it?”

Kazuma took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what was about to come. “Lord van Zieks… Do you like the person I am now, or do you prefer my old self?”

That wasn’t the question he was expecting. Barok could only look at him for the following seconds, at a complete loss for words.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I can notice it, you know… The way you look at me.” He paused, lowering his eyes. “No, not at me… Through me, as if searching for someone else.”

Oh… Of course. It was foolish of him to believe such a thought would never cross Kazuma’s mind.

“I am searching for a familiar presence,” said Barok. “But I already know he is long gone, if he ever existed at all.”

That… wasn’t what he wanted to say. That wasn’t how he truly felt.

Wasn’t it, though?

Kazuma looked at him, his disappointed smile a painful grip around Barok’s heart.

“So, do you prefer my broken self?” He paused, absentmindedly bringing a hand to his own chest. “Or maybe this version of me is the one irreparably broken.”

“I didn’t mean to say—”

“Stop acting!” Kazuma inhaled sharply, his hands closing on the sheets. “I’m tired of it… Tired of you pretending you care about me.”

“But I do.”

“I’m talking about me, not a ghost you refuse to let go of!”

Barok’s heart clenched painfully at that accusation. “I… truly do.”

There was a low cracking sound as a thin line formed at the corner of Kazuma’s lips while he struggled to slow down his breaths.

“If you do,” he muttered, “then why don’t you put an end to this?”

Another crack, this line parting into two, spreading over his cheek and down toward his chin. A small shard of skin fell upon the sheets. Barok raised his eyes to meet Kazuma’s gaze.

“Put an end to what?”

A low, tired laugh escaped Kazuma’s mouth. “It’s because you’re enjoying it, isn’t it? Watching the man you hate so much slowly crumble before your eyes. You won’t stop until there is nothing left, will you?”

That noise again, this time from a crack under his eye, slowly spreading down toward his ear and mouth. Barok couldn’t respond, watching as more of those fissures appeared and spread all over him, small fragments falling down as he spoke.

“Tell me, then,” said Kazuma in a low voice. “When the time finally comes, and there is no trace of this detestable person left… will that make you happy?”

Happy? It had been so long since Barok last felt genuine happiness that he could barely think of it as anything beyond an abstract idea.

No, that wasn’t true. For a brief while—way too brief—he had glimpses of happiness in the form of a sincere smile from the person who reached out for him while Barok was sinking into years of grief, and resentment, and countless glasses of alcohol in an attempt to drown everything else.

He silently observed Kazuma for a long while. It wasn’t supposed to be like that… He had only ever asked for one single thing, and even that was denied to him by God.

“This is not what I want,” he said.

“What do you want, then?” Kazuma questioned in a loud voice. “What is it that you want?”

“Nothing that you could possibly offer me.”

His blood went cold. That wasn’t true… That really wasn’t true. Why was he saying all that when he didn’t feel…?

Kazuma’s cold, hollow laugh filled the bedroom. From those cracks on his skin started to drip a dark liquid, and he covered his face in an attempt to hide it all. His laughter came to an abrupt end, giving place to sharp words as he spoke again.

“Is this your answer, then?”

Barok didn’t respond, terrified of what words would leave his mouth this time if he even dared to open it. Kazuma stared at him from behind his fingers.

“How can you still look at me as if I’m the one to blame?” he said. “As if I took him away from you? You are the one who took everything from me… And now, you act as if I’m the one who hurt you first.”

“I don’t—”

“Stop lying to me!” Kazuma lowered his hand to glare at Barok, black liquid rolling down his face as more shards fell from it. “Stop this… Just stop it already!”

Barok raised his hand, reaching in his direction, stopping right before it touched Kazuma’s shoulder, hesitant to fully break that distance. Instead, he spoke as calmly as he could.

“Asogi, calm down… Listen to me.”

“Why?” asked Kazuma. “So you will lie to me all over again? Or can you give me what I want? Can you truly love me for what I am? Even if my true self is this hideous thing before you?”

Barok couldn’t respond—more out of shock than not knowing the answer. Kazuma glanced at his hand, still close to him without daring to touch. Then, he looked Barok in the eye once again.

“Can you do it…?”

Those words were low, trembling—formed by nothing but a barely disguised fear. Barok wanted to say he would. He wanted to say he wasn’t just following a ghost. He wanted to say that Kazuma would never look hideous through his eyes. But, as always, the words refused to leave his mouth when he needed them the most; instead, something completely different escaped from his lips.

“Why are you still hiding yourself inside that shell?”

There was no response. For long seconds, Kazuma simply looked at him, that mask of apathy quickly restoring itself. Then, when the final crack was healed, he smiled, moving closer to Barok and gently placing his arms around his body.

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” he asked in a soft voice.

“No… How could I have ever wanted something like this?”

“I see. It was all for nothing, then.”

He tightened that hug, but the complete lack of emotion in his voice made Barok shiver.

“Say, Prosecutor van Zieks…” Kazuma whispered close to his ear. “Why don’t we die together, instead?”

A high-pitched noise flooded Barok’s ears. He felt the cold tip of a blade against his back a moment before it went through both of their bodies.

Time froze. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. A low, soft murmur filled his ear as the taste of blood filled his mouth.

“Aren’t you happier like this?”

He jolted up, covered in cold sweat. Once again, there was no wound or blood to be found. A dream… Just another cursed dream.

Before he could feel any relief, however, he glanced toward Kazuma’s side of the bed, soon realizing he wasn’t there. Barok’s heart jumped, the dread from that dream still strong inside him. He stumbled out of bed, eyes darting around the room as he tried to find his apprentice anywhere. But he wasn’t there… He couldn’t find him.

Before he could leave the bedroom in his desperate search, however, he noticed the door to the balcony was just slightly open, allowing the cold night air to pass through. Without thinking, he rushed to it, looking outside.

Kazuma was sitting on the railing of the balcony, his legs dangling on the other side, eyes turned upward toward the sky. Barok’s heart sank.

“Asogi…?”

Kazuma looked over his shoulder, seeming slightly surprised. “Ah… You’re awake.”

The nonchalance of his words made a burning feeling spread from Barok’s chest through his whole body.

“Asogi, get down from there!”

The ferocity in his words seemed to startle Kazuma, who stared at him wide-eyed.

“Right…” He turned himself around, still sitting on the railing, but his legs now inside the balcony. “Sorry, I just thought the stars looked pretty tonight.”

“So you decided to risk your life just to gaze upon—?” He interrupted his angry words, taking a deep breath to calm himself before speaking again. “Just get down from there… You can still appreciate them from a safer place.”

A slight half-smile took over Kazuma’s lips. “Don’t you want to join me, instead?”

Why don’t we die together, instead?

Barok couldn’t say a word, his mind and body frozen as he stared at the man before him. That wasn’t still a dream, was it? Kazuma’s smile quickly faded.

“I wasn’t serious…” He averted his gaze. “Sorry, it wasn’t funny, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Neither of them said another word for long seconds, the silence growing heavier between them until Kazuma finally broke it with a tiny voice.

“I just… I’ve always climbed on high places since I was little, so… I didn’t think much about this.”

That explanation only made Barok’s bitterness grow. “You should have.”

He knew it was unfair to respond to his attempts at an explanation with such blunt words. Kazuma seemed to think so as well, a spark igniting in his eyes for an instant—a hint of something, which soon dissolved into nothingness once again.

“Yes… I should have.”

He got down from the railing, keeping his head low as he passed by Barok and walked back inside. Barok brought a hand to his own face, clenching his teeth. Was that what he wanted? To ruin whatever was left of that already damaged bond they shared?

He followed Kazuma inside, finding him standing close to the bed, seeming unsure of what to do next.

“I will…” Kazuma stopped, as if struggling with the words. “I think I should spend this night in my bedroom.”

Before he could walk away, Barok raised his hand, holding him by the arm.

“Wait.”

Kazuma looked at him, and at the very least, there was no trace of hatred in his face. Barok spoke, this time in a softer voice.

“I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that… But seeing you in such a dangerous place frightened me.”

The explanation made Kazuma nod, not meeting his gaze. “I really just wanted to see the stars.”

“I know. I apologize for my behavior.”

Kazuma exhaled, seeming relieved as he stepped closer, placing his arms around Barok.

“It’s fine.”

Barok held him closely, resting his chin at the top of Kazuma’s head, glad to still feel that faint connection between them—torn but not yet broken. When he closed his eyes, he could see dream Kazuma’s cold, disappointed glare. He hadn’t learned a single thing, it seemed.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” asked Kazuma in a low voice.

“Of course.”

In the end, all he could do was insist on that mistake while hoping all those broken pieces would mend themselves on their own.

Barok knew he hadn’t yet seen the last of those nightmares, which didn’t mean he was ready for the horrors that plagued his mind the following days. Every time he lay to sleep, he feared what he would see before he woke up trembling and covered in sweat, confused until he understood he was still alive.

Kazuma had noticed something was amiss, questioning Barok about his health, to which he always offered half-truths as an answer. Because how could he ever tell the man he hurt so deeply that he was the one haunting his dreams, torturing him every night to the point he was terrified of falling asleep?

Barok knew that the cruel creature in his dreams was nothing like the real Kazuma. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how much of those feelings secretly festered behind his apprentice’s mask. That dream version was so often yelling, so full of hatred and resentment for him, which only made Barok’s guilt heavier when he woke up to Kazuma’s concerned face and words as he tried to reassure him that everything was fine, and whatever horrors he saw in his sleep could no longer reach him.

He couldn’t understand it… Was Barok terrified of that man? Of what he could do to him, now that Barok had allowed him to get close enough? Or was he, instead, longing for a painful end? For Kazuma to get his deserved revenge and bring their torment to a halt once and for all?

He couldn’t tell. The more he tried to understand his own feelings, the more unreadable they seemed. All he knew was that, worse than dying over and over again, was seeing the pain in Kazuma’s face every single time he did it.

That night was like all others. He lay in his bed, unsure if he should be praying for a restful night or to never fall asleep again. It seemed like long hours had passed when he felt Kazuma moving beside him.

Whether it was a dream or not, he had no idea. So, he stayed still and with his eyes shut, trying to avoid the inevitable for as long as he could. Without a word, Kazuma touched his hair, staying like that for a moment. Then, he leaned in Barok’s direction, placing a soft kiss on his face.

He left the bed, walking toward the door, and Barok opened his eyes in time to see him walk out of the bedroom. He stayed in place, his heart racing as he brought a hand to his cheek, as if trying to keep the lingering feeling of that kiss from fading away.

Part of him wanted to follow Kazuma, make sure there was nothing wrong. But instead, Barok closed his eyes again, images of all the terrible things that could happen if he followed that man flooding his mind. He tried to push those thoughts away, and as he lay there, struggling to keep an empty mind, more than once his consciousness drifted away, only to be pulled back for no apparent reason. A long time passed like that, and at some point he dozed off, waking up with a startle.

Kazuma hadn’t returned yet…

A heavy feeling grew inside of him, screaming that something was wrong. Barok left the bedroom, going to Kazuma’s across from his, only to find an empty bed. He rushed downstairs, glancing around, searching for any trace of him. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. He approached the back door, only to find it unlocked.

Barok left the mansion, walking into his garden. There, a few meters away, amid all those dead flowers stood a single living being illuminated by the faint moonlight in an otherworldly sight. He almost called Kazuma’s name, but stopped himself.

No, that wasn’t him… That was…

“Genshin…?”

The man looked back, and the spell was immediately broken. It was Kazuma’s eyes that looked at him as a small, sad laugh left his lips.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” he said. “No matter what I do, everything you see in me is a ghost.”

Something in his words made Barok’s heart throb. He stepped back, suddenly hesitant.

“Asogi?” He stared at that face, trying to find any trace of something different—anything that didn’t belong. “Are you really Asogi?”

“It depends…” That man turned his gaze away. “Do you mean Genshin Asogi? Your apprentice without a name?” He looked at Barok once again. “Or the one named Kazuma, who sleeps beside you every night?”

“The one always by my side.”

A faint smile took his lips. “Then, I guess I am.”

That small change in his expression helped Barok relax. Kazuma observed him for a moment, as if considering something.

“Do you want to accompany me on my nightly walk?” he asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

Kazuma offered him his arm, which Barok linked to his. They walked slowly, mostly in silence, for a while.

“Did you have another nightmare?” asked Kazuma.

“Not this time. I simply couldn’t fall asleep.”

Barok was glad that, for once, he wasn’t lying to him. The answer still made Kazuma look at his face, concerned.

“This is getting worse, isn’t it?”

“No worse than it has been in the past,” said Barok. “Sleepless nights are far from new to me, I’m afraid.”

“That doesn’t make it less of a bad thing.”

“Perhaps, but there is no reason for you to worry about it.”

His response brought a hint of frustration to Kazuma’s face. “Why do you hate it so much when I worry about you?”

The question brought some guilt to his chest. It wasn’t like he hated it, but it didn’t seem right to allow Kazuma to feel that way about him of all people.

“You have your own troubles,” said Barok. “I cannot expect you to shoulder mine as well.”

“Not even if I want to?”

Barok couldn’t respond. They both stayed silent for a moment until Kazuma spoke again.

“Then… Why don’t we exchange our troubles for a minute?”

“What do you mean?”

Kazuma smiled slightly. “Tell me something that is worrying you, and I’ll do the same.”

The suggestion was unexpectedly sweet and made it difficult for Barok to refuse it. “Fair enough.”

He thought about it for a moment while Kazuma observed him, waiting patiently until he finally responded.

“I am afraid my presence will make it harder for you to move on.”

Kazuma blinked, a tiny, surprised laugh leaving his mouth.

“What is it?” asked Barok.

He shook his head. “No, I was just surprised… I was about to say the same thing.”

“Oh…”

It made sense that they would share such a fear. Before Barok could question him about it, however, Kazuma spoke again.

“Why do you feel like that, though?”

“It must be hard for you to be forced to look at the man who betrayed your father every day.”

“Following that logic, it must be hard for you to look at the man who betrayed you every day.”

The answer was painful to hear. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Neither could you.” Kazuma paused, adding in a lower voice. “I understand that now.”

He stopped walking, and Barok looked at him, slightly concerned.

“I am really sorry for what I did,” said Kazuma.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I need to. I betrayed your trust, and also…” He averted his gaze, hesitation taking his face and voice. “I took something precious away from you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I know the man you fell in love with is not me. Not Kazuma Asogi, but… someone else.”

That wasn’t completely untrue. The man Barok had fallen for had no name and no past. But the one standing before him had the same face and voice—the same heart.

“No…” said Barok. “This is absurd. You are the man I fell for, even if you had no memories of your past at the time.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Kazuma admitted in a tired voice. “But I can’t stop thinking about it… How different living as him felt. Like I was empty, but it also meant I had no weight dragging me down. Even now, I don’t know if I can think of that man as myself.”

“He is you. You are both the same person.”

“Do you really believe that?” There was disbelief in his voice. “You chose to have a relationship with him for yourself, but you're stuck with me because of the memory of someone who might have never been real.”

That last part shattered Barok’s heart. He brought his hand to Kazuma’s cheek, cupping it, lifting his face so he would look at him.

“I chose you,” he said. “Both times, I have chosen you.”

That simple reassurance was enough to bring a faint, relieved smile to Kazuma’s lips.

“Then,” said Kazuma, “can you do me a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Call me by my name.”

Such a simple request… How could Barok ever say no to it?”

“Asogi.”

Kazuma shook his head. “I meant my name, not my father’s.”

Oh, of course… What was Barok thinking?

“Asogi.”

That wasn’t the name he said. And still, his voice echoed quite clearly in that quiet night. The smile on Kazuma’s face completely faded.

“My name, not his…”

Barok drew each syllable with his mouth: ka-zu-ma—and yet, the sound that left his lips was completely different.

“A…so…gi…”

What was happening? Why couldn’t he say it? Kazuma stared at him, his disappointment slowly shifting into something darker.

“Can’t you even do this much for me?” he muttered through his teeth. “Please, just call my name one single time. Just once.” He lowered his voice, suddenly sounding much more fragile than he looked. “Just once, let me believe I am the one you’re seeing when you look at me.”

“A…”

Barok stopped himself, not wanting that name to leave his mouth again. He just wanted Kazuma to know he was seeing no ghost, just him—the person he was. It shouldn’t be that hard… All he needed to do was say it out loud, and that long misunderstanding would be over.

So, he opened his mouth, calling that name.

“Apprentice.”

Barok covered his mouth, but it was too late. Kazuma’s expression froze. Then, it turned into heartbreak. Then, into unrestrained fury. He gritted his teeth, the sound of his hasty breaths filling the night.

“No matter what I do, you will never see me for what I am…” he muttered. “You will never accept my real self. You will keep chasing those ghosts, won’t you?”

Before Barok could respond, Kazuma’s expression shifted into an almost inhuman image, red eyes like a serpent’s glaring at him in pure rage.

“Fine…” he said. “I will help you find them both.”

His voice was so filled with hatred that Barok instinctively took a step back. With a pained cry, Kazuma opened his hands, and a pair of sharp blades grew from them, covered in his own blood, dripping on the ground. He looked at Barok, who stepped back just a moment before Kazuma raised his hand, that blade cutting Barok’s arm when he used it to shield his face.

He was going to kill him again… Panic took over Barok’s heart. He turned away from Kazuma, running as fast as he could. He could hear Kazuma following him just a few steps behind. Angry, almost feral sounds came from him, as if the creature chasing him wasn’t a human, but a monster.

Monster… No. He was nothing like that. What was Barok even thinking? Why was he running? Why from the one person whose heart he so desperately wanted to reach?

But he already knew the answer: the only reason why things had reached that point to begin with was because he kept running instead of properly facing him.

So, this time, he stopped, turning to face that man as he brought one of those blades toward his neck.

“Kazuma!”

Finally, the name came out of his mouth. Kazuma stopped in place, wide-eyed, arm still raised high.

“I see you,” Barok continued. “The real you. I swear to you… I see you, Kazuma.”

He simply stared at Barok, as if unsure of what to make of those words. “You do it… now…?”

Barok nodded. Then, with a deep breath, he opened his arms, offering his heart to Kazuma in any way he chose to take it. His love, his rage… It didn’t matter. As long as it came from him, Barok would accept all of it.

But instead of accepting his embrace or ending his life as he had already done countless times before, Kazuma stepped back, falling to his knees. He brought that bloodied blade growing from his flesh closer to his face, staring at it as if trying to see his own reflection.

“Kazuma…?” said Barok.

Kazuma didn’t look away from that blade, all anger and hatred gone from his distorted, monstrous face, replaced by a horribly familiar mask of nothingness.

“Is this really how you see me?”

Barok’s heart stung him awake, and he immediately turned his gaze to the side. Kazuma had returned to bed, deeply asleep beside him… Thank God.

The gentleness of that kiss before he left the bed returned to Barok’s mind. That much hadn’t been a dream, had it?

No… It felt real. And maybe that was why the memory of it hurt. That quiet showing of care when he thought Barok couldn’t see it said too much. No matter how much he told himself Kazuma had all the reasons to despise him, all he received in return were those gestures of love.

He brought a hand to Kazuma’s face, carefully brushing his hair away from his forehead with his fingers.

Is this really how you see me?

Those words fell upon him like a heavy, cold mantle. His throat closed, and Barok covered his mouth with a hand to stifle a sob. As carefully as he could, he left the bed, walking out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment to try and recompose himself.

He wished he could say there was no truth to those nightmares, but that would be a lie. He remembered parts of those scenes and conversations… Fragments of reality, mixed with a distorted version conjured by his mind—an extension of his deepest regrets. That creature wasn’t the real Kazuma, but a version of him created by Barok for reasons he couldn’t explain, as if part of him—lying deeper than his consciousness—did believe that he was a monster.

Even the thought of it hurt more than any physical injury ever would. He raised his eyes, looking at the door to Kazuma’s bedroom. Without thinking much, he entered it, glancing at the neatly organized place—so organized it barely seemed inhabited by another person. He approached the bed, and after hesitating briefly, lay upon it. He remembered the times he stayed there by his apprentice’s side while he was unable to sleep, haunted by ghosts of memories without a clear shape. The hesitant proximity they slowly deepened, a little more each day. Their sweet first kiss and the tender touches that followed it. The beautiful smile on his apprentice’s face while Barok held him close.

He had loved that man. He still did.

But then, why was the image of Kazuma in his dreams such a horrible one?

He couldn’t understand it…

And still, he couldn’t help but think that things would be much less painful if Kazuma simply hated him instead.

Barok woke up to someone gently shaking his arm.

“Lord van Zieks…” said Kazuma. “What are you doing in my bed?”

The question pushed all sleepiness out of him. He looked at Kazuma’s half-confused, half-amused expression, embarrassment taking over him before everything else did.

“Oh, I…”

He didn’t know what to say. His guilt had driven him away, but even in his erratic state of mind, he still sought traces of the one he loved to calm his heart.

“My apologies,” he said, instead, “I wasn’t myself yesterday.”

A hint of worry took Kazuma’s expression. “Did I do something that displeased you?”

“No, nothing of the sort.”

“Good.” Kazuma offered him a playful smile. “If you told me I snore in my sleep, I wouldn’t believe you.”

The light-hearted comment helped Barok relax. He shook his head, returning that smile with a faint one. “I simply became nostalgic for a moment.”

“Of this bedroom?”

“Of all the time we spent together here.”

He only realized how his words could be misinterpreted when that smile disappeared from Kazuma’s face. Before he could say anything about it, however, Kazuma conjured a new one that didn’t spread past his lips.

“I see,” he said. “Anyway, you should be up already. Unless you want us to be late for work.”

Without waiting for a response, he walked away. Barok could only follow him with his gaze until Kazuma left the bedroom, his heart sinking more with every step he took. He remembered that dream and blamed himself for not learning anything from those distorted events. If things stayed that way, Kazuma would truly come to hate him.

And how could he even blame Kazuma for it? Every time he was given a choice, he chose that version of Kazuma that existed in his sweet memories of them, instead of the flawed, living one before him.

His stomach turned, but he ignored it and forced himself to move, going through that day as if nothing was wrong in his life. And then, hours later, Barok was once again lying in that bed, silently drowning in dread.

As much as he didn’t want to fall asleep, his exhaustion soon overcame him. But his restless sleep didn’t last, and soon he opened his eyes, once again inside that dark bedroom.

Another dream? He couldn’t tell… He looked toward Kazuma’s side of the bed, but he wasn’t there beside him. Barok sat up, glancing around the room until he finally found him. He was sitting at the desk with his head low. Small sounds came from him. Barok’s heart sank when he realized that he was crying.

His first instinct was to call for him, but he stopped himself. If it was another dream, that Kazuma would probably kill him like he had done all those times before. But if it was real, then he was suffering on his own, as he always did. And, even if it was a dream, Barok couldn’t ignore him in that state.

Letting go of every fear, Barok approached him, placing a hand on his back.

“What is wrong?”

Upon hearing his voice, Kazuma quickly glanced at him, only to turn his face away, covering it with a hand.

“Nothing,” he said in an attempt at calmness. “Did I wake you?”

“I awoke on my own. Is something bothering you?”

Kazuma shook his head, hesitating before giving him a proper response. “I’m not sure.” He tried to dry his tears with the back of his hand. “It just suddenly started, and I couldn’t stop. I don’t even know the reason why.”

His honest answer was painful, but also made his heart feel a little lighter—he hadn’t gently pushed him away that time.

“Come to bed,” said Barok in a soft voice. “You don’t have to cry alone.”

“Alright.”

He guided Kazuma to bed with a hand still on his back. They lay next to each other, Kazuma keeping his gaze low while Barok couldn’t bring himself to look away from him.

“Next time,” said Barok, “you should wake me.”

“No, I know you are dealing with your own burdens.”

“I am telling you I want to know,” he insisted without raising his voice. “The same way you are always by my side when I need you, I want to do the same for you.”

His words made Kazuma finally look at him. “Lord van Zieks, do you…”

“Yes?”

He opened his mouth, only to quickly shut it again. “Nothing. Sorry, I’m just thinking too much.”

Barok didn’t try to force an answer out of him. “Try to rest. But know that I am here if you need anything, even if it is to talk.”

Kazuma nodded, his gaze still far away, as if lost in thought. “I will try not to ruin this again.”

Barok furrowed his brow. “What did you say?”

He had heard it, of course. But instead of repeating those words, Kazuma answered in a lighter tone.

“Thank you for all your patience, my lord.”

Barok almost questioned that obvious lie, but couldn’t bring himself to, pressing his lips together as he allowed his chance to slip by.

“Just rest for now,” he said.

Kazuma nodded again, then moved closer to him, resting his head on Barok’s chest. A show of trust like he so often did before his memories returned. They should fill Barok’s chest with light, but instead, a horrible weight grew inside him once again, this time seeming to be there to stay.

He tried to sleep, but all that filled his mind was the low sound of Kazuma crying by himself when he thought Barok wasn’t hearing him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it… Should he have been more insistent in his attempt to make Kazuma open up to him? But what if he did so, and it only pushed him farther away?

Those thoughts threatened to consume him, so he lowered his gaze to Kazuma. He couldn’t see his face from that position, so he spoke in a barely audible voice.

“Are you still awake?”

There was a short silence before the answer came. “Yes.”

Barok was relieved and anxious at the same time. “Won’t you tell me what was bothering you?”

Another moment of silence. Barok waited, not wanting to pressure him too much.

“Sometimes,” said Kazuma, “I don’t understand what you want from me. Will I ever be enough?”

“You are enough.”

“Do you really believe those words? If you do, then…”

His words trailed off, the end of that thought never coming despite Barok’s wait.

“Then what?” he encouraged Kazuma to continue.

Kazuma looked up, their eyes meeting in that dark room.

“You do realize this isn’t who I truly am, don’t you?” There was a slight strain in his voice. “How hard I’m trying to be this person you want me to be. I’m really trying, but… I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Barok’s chest tightened. “Then, stop pretending.”

“So you will look at me with the same revulsion from before?” He averted his gaze. “I’d rather not go through that again.”

But those words had been enough to make Barok think. He had come to that same conclusion, especially after those horrible nightmares: Kazuma wasn’t acting like himself, and it was all because of him.

“I don’t blame you for feeling this way,” said Barok. “I might have resented you for these changes at first, but I was wrong to turn all these negative feelings against you. It was much easier than facing the reality… Or accepting that I may not know you as well as I thought I did.”

“But the hate you felt for me was still true, wasn’t it?”

He hesitated, but chose not to lie to Kazuma. “It was. But it is long gone.”

Kazuma nodded quietly, and Barok wished he could see the expression he carried.

“Lord van Zieks…” he said after a while. “Have you ever wished you could end my life?”

Barok’s blood froze. He tried to answer, but all words shriveled in his mouth. The silence grew heavier, almost suffocating in that room, which suddenly felt too small—too closed.

“You did, didn’t you?” asked Kazuma.

He had to make an effort to breathe, shutting his eyes as he tried to force the response out of his mouth.

“Those thoughts were stronger than myself. I was filled with hatred and nothing else. But you…”

He couldn’t finish that sentence, the words refusing to come until Kazuma’s impatient voice echoed again.

“But I what?”

Barok inhaled sharply, trying again. “This hatred is long gone. Even if you are a different person now, I still want you by my side. I need you, Asogi.”

A low, humorless laugh left Kazuma’s lips. He sat up, looking at Barok with tired eyes. “Do you want me to heal you, then? To offer myself like a sacrificial lamb, so you can pretend nothing changed and feel better about yourself?”

The very idea made his insides twist. “Of course not!”

“What do you want from me, then?”

To Barok’s surprise, the answer easily escaped from his mouth. “I want to see your smile again.”

It was true. That lovely sight had once been one of his greatest treasures. He had seen Kazuma smile after he recovered his memories, but they didn’t feel the same—didn’t feel like they came from his heart. He hadn’t realized how much he longed for the real one until that moment.

But that answer made Kazuma’s eyes narrow. “Even now, you can only think of your own ego… All you want is to believe everything is fine, even if it’s not. And you still say you care about me?”

“You misunderstand me.” Barok sat up as well, bringing a hand to his own chest. “More than anything else, I want your happiness. I would give everything I have in exchange for it… Everything.”

Kazuma lowered his head, thinking about those words. “If you really mean it, then would you die for my sake?” He met Barok’s gaze. “Or were your words nothing but lies?”

Barok could only stare at him for a long while. This time, however, he refused to retreat.

“Will killing me bring you any peace?”

Kazuma clicked his tongue, looking away. “Why do you care…?”

His thoughts were quite clear despite the situation. When he spoke again, his words were calm and steady.

“If it would bring you closure, I would offer my life to you without a second thought.” He paused. “But if I do this, I will only make you suffer the same pain I did.”

“It can’t be worse than this.”

“It can… At least your hands are not tainted yet. But if I allow you to go this far, it will ruin you.”

A low, tired sigh left Kazuma’s lips. “I am already ruined… You’ve already ruined me, Barok van Zieks.”

He raised his hand, and something in it caught Barok’s eye. Something metallic. Something sharp. As realization fell upon Barok, Kazuma offered him a cruel smile.

“And now, I will ruin you as well.”

He raised that blade, not against Barok but himself, slicing his own throat. Kazuma’s body fell backwards, and Barok tried to reach for him as panic made the world twist and crumble all around them, a scream trapped in his throat.

Not this… Not like this… Anything but this…

Kazuma wasn’t moving. He couldn’t see him properly… Not in that dark place. Shadows became stains, became wounds, became death. Without thinking, he got over Kazuma, bringing his hand to his throat, almost able to feel blood all over it, trying desperately to stop it—to keep more of it from spilling out.

“Lord van Zieks…?”

That low voice made him shiver. Kazuma stared at him, tense and still like a terrified animal. Barok was over him, straddling his body, trapping him in place with a hand wrapped around his throat.

“What are you doing?”

Barely able to think, Barok lowered his eyes to his hand. No trace of blood… No blood, just shadows… No blood. Not real… None of it.

A dream. Another horrible dream…

He couldn’t do that anymore…

Barok moved away from Kazuma, lungs refusing to work, heart about to burst. Kazuma flinched away until his back was against the bed frame, staring at him with a hand covering his throat. As he looked at Barok, however, the horror in his face slowly faded, giving place to something else.

“What is wrong?”

How could he ask such a question after what Barok had done?

“That wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to…” Barok shut his eyes, making a huge effort just to breathe. “I… didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“You didn’t hurt me… But you did scare me.” Kazuma reluctantly leaned forward, looking at his face. “What happened?”

Barok shook his head, his mind still in disarray. “There was a wound on your neck… I thought… I couldn’t see it properly, so I thought you…”

Kazuma let out his breath, his body relaxing a little. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t real. It was just a dream.”

He reached toward Barok, who winced away at first. But when Kazuma insisted on it and held his hand, he accepted that small connection. The warmth of his hand seemed to ground him in reality, making it just a little easier to breathe.

“See?” said Kazuma. “It’s all over now.”

Barok could do nothing but nod in response. Neither of them said another word while Barok’s heartbeats slowed down, his mind getting clearer little by little. Kazuma simply waited, concern clear on his face, never letting go of his hand.

When Barok calmed down enough, Kazuma pulled him by the hand until they were sitting side by side, with their backs against the bed frame, arms touching, hands linked.

“You can talk to me if you want,” said Kazuma.

“What do you mean?”

“About those nightmares.” He looked at Barok. “I have them too, you know?”

That took him by surprise. “You do?”

Kazuma nodded. “But usually, it’s not something clear… Part what happened ten years ago, part the things I fantasized doing for that whole decade, part those months I lived as an empty husk of a person.” He showed a tired smile. “Sometimes, it’s all so nonsensical it’s almost funny… But sometimes, it stays. And no matter what I do, I can’t get those images out of my head.” A small pause. “Is it the same for you?”

“I suppose…”

Barok’s mind struggled to absorb everything he was saying, but it also brought a possibility to his mind.

“Asogi…”

“Yes?”

“In your dreams… Do you see anything about the two of us?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “The two most realistic things I see are… I see things through his eyes. My father’s. And I see Jigoku there as he pulls the trigger.”

The described scene was painful to imagine, but Barok couldn’t bring himself to think about it at that moment. “And the other thing?”

Kazuma smiled bitterly. “I see you being killed. Because of what I did.”

His stomach sank. “Are you the one who does it?”

“No, but I can do nothing but watch.” He lowered his eyes, the hand holding Barok’s tightening its grip. “Even if I try to scream at them to stop, or to reach you before it is too late, it never works. It always ends the same way.” He looked at Barok, seeming slightly puzzled. “But why are you asking me this? Am I part of your dreams as well?”

There was no way Barok could describe those dreadful horrors after hearing that… If he did, it would only deepen Kazuma’s guilt even more.

“Sometimes, I see your face instead of your father’s. As if I have condemned you to death alongside him.”

That wasn’t a lie, despite not being the entire truth. That dream had haunted him countless times before being replaced by those current ones. But Kazuma didn’t question it, leaning in his direction, placing a soft and gentle kiss on his face.

“I am still alive.”

The contrast of those words and his almost lifeless tone of voice made Barok’s stomach turn. His nameless self with no memories had been much more full of life than that version of him. Quiet, but sincere in every gesture, looking at Barok with an adoration he had never seen in anyone’s eyes before. And he would smile… Sometimes, for no reason other than their eyes meeting. For someone Barok had first judged an emotionless specter, that man had brought to his life a kind of joy he had long forgotten about.

His presence, his voice, his touch… All that life inside of him had flown into Barok like a blossoming light, making him dare to believe he could let go of all that pain and find something warmer, sweeter in that man’s arms.

But now he could see that he didn’t deserve any of it. He was the one who ruined Kazuma’s life. Because of him, his father was gone. Because of him, he lost years of his life to indescribable pain. Because of him, Kazuma was slowly becoming that emotionless specter once again.

He could try to hide it, but Barok could see through the cracks on his mask—all the rage, all the pain, all the emptiness behind a calm smile that no longer fit his face. All of it, locked inside as he drowned in those feelings while reassuring Barok that everything was fine.

But it wasn’t… It would never be. Not while he quietly watched as Kazuma erased every piece of himself for his sake.

He tried to be something he wasn’t, and Barok let him. He tried to act as if they could still hold each other close as they once did, and Barok let him. He tried to offer comfort while barely able to keep his own pieces together, and Barok let him. He was slowly killing Kazuma Asogi like he did his father.

And yet, he wasn’t strong enough to let him go.

That scene was strangely familiar.

Barok was lying on the bed, Kazuma sitting on the mattress by his side. A faint light came through the window, illuminating his undressed body. He was beautiful… As beautiful as the day they first made love, before Barok had even learned his name.

And yet, at that moment, he could feel nothing but guilt by looking at him.

“This might have been a mistake.”

Kazuma looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “Do you think so?”

“Don’t you?”

Instead of answering immediately, Kazuma turned his gaze down at his own hands, thinking for a long while.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I don’t regret it.”

Instead of bringing him relief, that answer made Barok’s heart ache. “You were supposed to hate me.”

“In that case, so were you.” Kazuma looked at him, a faint smile on his face. “This should be the last thing these two hateful men would choose to do together.”

“And still, you don’t regret it?”

“I don’t want to keep trying to hate you. It only made me miserable until now, and…” He lowered his voice. “It’s useless, anyway.”

“That is because you are a good man.”

“Not at all.” A humorless chuckle left his lips. “My reasons are anything but kind… You may believe I am honorable like my father, but the truth is, I’m just a selfish person.”

“Why do you say this?”

“Because part of me still sees you as my entire world. And losing you would be like losing myself all over again.”

He looked at Barok, a slightly pained smile on his lips.

“I love you, Lord van Zieks. Even now, I still love you.”

Those low, sincere words had broken his heart. Because Barok knew he didn’t deserve them, that Kazuma would be better away from him. But he was nothing but a selfish man as well, so he sat up on the bed, reaching for Kazuma’s face, lightly touching it with his fingertips—both eager and frightened to break what was left of that barrier standing between them.

I love you too, he would say before Kazuma kissed him tenderly, momentarily erasing those fears from his mind.

But the words didn’t come. Instead, his fingers closed around Kazuma’s throat against his will, forcing him down against the mattress. Kazuma’s eyes widened in terror as he struggled to free himself, to breathe. Part of Barok was horrified, but part of him wanted more, for Kazuma to feel all that pain he had caused him.

No… No, that wasn’t true. He didn’t want that… But he couldn’t stop himself, his body moving as if commanded by someone else, a cruel voice whispering those feelings inside his head, trying to fill it with hatred.

Let him go…

Barok tried to fight it, but his body was nothing more than a marionette controlled by that invisible being residing inside his body.

Let him go…

As if to mock him, that horrible part of him took over, hitting Kazuma’s face with his fist. Barok screamed, but his mouth refused to make a sound; he tried to stop himself, but his body refused to obey.

Please, for the love of God… Kill me if you must, but let him go!

But that thing continued to crush Kazuma’s throat while hitting him over and over until he stopped fighting back, all the resistance and screaming turning into quiet cries as he struggled to breathe. And then, not even that.

Only when Kazuma’s body was cold and completely still did that thing release its hold on Barok. He let go of Kazuma’s neck, cupping his face instead.

“Asogi…” he called. “Asogi, look at me…”

No response… Barok approached their faces. No breathing. He pressed his ear against Kazuma’s heart. No pulse. He called him again and again, and still, no response. His vision went blurry, tears falling from his eyes, dripping on the face of the man he loved.

“Kazuma…”

The name sounded bitter on his tongue. Barok took him in his arms, holding his lifeless body close to his chest, clinging to it as if that could stop him from completely fading away. An indescribable pain grew inside him, coming out in the form of a hoarse, desperate scream.

“Why are you crying?”

That voice echoed again, now outside his head. Barok looked toward it, only to see a mirrored image of himself staring back at him.

“Isn’t this what you always wanted?” The thing asked. “Revenge against his father, and Kazuma himself for stealing that fleeting happiness from you?”

“I never… I never wanted this…” He tightened his arms around Kazuma. “You know better than anyone that I never wanted to hurt him again…”

“I know. Because I love him above all else, too.”

Those words made rage boil inside Barok. “This is not love!”

“And you consider your slow torture any better?” The thing lowered its eyes to Kazuma. “Killing him a little more each day, keeping him chained to you while knowing better than anyone that it will only bring him pain… Allowing him to keep a smile on his face when you know he is suffering just as much as you, if not more.”

Those words hit Barok like a punch. “I never meant to… I never…”

The thing ignored him, bringing its hand toward Kazuma’s face, gently touching his hair.

“You may think I am cruel, but I was much more merciful than you.” It lowered its voice, a slight strain in it as it spoke again. “At the very least, I was kind enough to end it quickly.”

He couldn’t say a word—he could barely think. So, he hugged Kazuma as tightly as he could, pressing his face against his neck as the tears refused to stop flowing, and part of Barok wished he could fade away with him.

“Lord van Zieks… That’s too tight…”

That voice snapped him back into his senses. Barok loosened his grip on Kazuma, looking at his face, and Kazuma looked back at him, seeming confused.

“What happened?” he asked. “Was it another nightmare?”

Fiction and reality dissolved together, melding into one another. Kazuma’s concerned face covered in blood and bruises, dark finger marks around his neck. His lifeless eyes, his worried eyes… He couldn’t tell them apart—could no longer tell what was right before him.

“Lord van Zieks, it’s alright…”

It wasn’t… Nothing was. He couldn’t do it… He couldn’t let it happen again.

He left the bed, rushing out of the bedroom and as far from Kazuma as he could. He could hear his voice coming from behind him, but didn’t look back. That awful image flashed in his mind. Barok’s hand tightly closed around Kazuma’s neck, his terrified face, his body slowly losing its strength under his grasp… He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Remembering how that repulsive side of his hurt Kazuma without a shred of remorse while calling it love.

His body seemed to move by itself, and Barok only realized he was in the back garden of his mansion when Kazuma finally reached him, his hand closing around his arm. Without thinking, Barok pushed him away, making him stumble back.

He was doing it again… Just by being close to him, Kazuma was…

“Lord van Zieks…”

Barok stepped back, facing away from that hurt expression. “You should stay away from me.”

“What did I do?”

He shook his head, taking another step back. “This was a mistake… We need to put an end to it.”

“An end to what?”

“To this thing we call a relationship.”

Silence enveloped them. Kazuma stayed in place, staring at him, seeming completely lost.

“Why?” he asked. “Can’t you at least tell me why?”

How could he even begin to explain all those tangled, thorny feelings inside of him? All the worst parts of himself that he was so terrified would take over at any moment? His silence made Kazuma lower his eyes, a shadow covering his face.

“You never wanted this, did you?” He muttered his words. “This relationship with the man who almost got you killed… You just accepted it out of guilt, isn’t that right?”

The thought that Kazuma truly believed that made Barok’s stomach sink. “That is not true.”

“What is the truth, then?” Kazuma yelled. “Just tell me, already!”

Barok couldn’t respond: Kazuma hadn’t raised his voice at him for a long time… It caught him off guard. Once again, his silence only made Kazuma’s anger stronger.

“Why can’t you just give me a clear answer?” he questioned, venom in his words. “How am I supposed to fix things if you won’t even tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

His words shook Barok out of his momentary stillness, a hot, sharp feeling growing inside him. “How can you say this when you keep hiding your true self from me?”

Kazuma widened his eyes. “What…?”

“You have locked yourself inside this shell and refuse to show me who you truly are!” Barok continued in that aggressive voice. “All you ever show me is what you think I want to see. Your gentleness, your care… You keep hiding all else, and I don’t know how to reach you. I don’t know how to…”

Barok’s voice failed him for a moment. Kazuma lowered his eyes, thrown off by the accusations.

“I am not…”

“You are!” Barok responded. “Even now, I cannot tell how you truly feel. Every time I touch you, I don’t know if you want it or if I’m just harming you in a different way, and you are letting me because it eases your guilt.”

“Why would I do that?” The edge was back in his voice. “You are the one who only keeps me close because you feel like you owe it to my father, and keeps clinging to this perfect image you created of me inside your head! You don’t even see me when you look at my face… No matter what I do, you will never see me for what I am!”

His words brought those dreams back to Barok’s mind. The darkness spilling from those cracks in his facade, his monstrous form bleeding from wounds created by his own blades. His desperate need for love, even if it meant hurting Barok or himself in exchange for it—all of it kept under a veil of serenity that was damaged beyond repair.

Those mild manners weren’t only a way to gain Barok’s affection, but also a shield. Because underneath that gentleness and soft smile was a being made of unsightly feelings and sharp edges, terrified of revealing its true self. Living a lie because suffocating his flawed nature was much less painful than being rejected for it.

And all those sharp edges also made him brittle, as if the smallest impact would be enough to shatter him whole. Barok knew it… Had known for a long time. But he never tried to force Kazuma out of those walls he raised around himself, because even more terrifying than the thought of being cut in his attempt was the one of leaving his own stronghold to properly reach for him.

They were both deceivers, enacting a perfect lie while hiding their own wounds, letting them rot away as they stayed safely hidden inside their shells, refusing to leave the comfort of their misery while also secretly hoping that the other one would drag them out of it, even without their consent.

Things would never change until one of them took that first step. So, as frightened and wounded as he was, Barok was the first to crawl out of that tight, loathsome, safe space.

“I do see you.”

Kazuma looked at him, disbelief clear in his face. Barok didn’t step back this time.

“I see you as you are,” he continued. “Not as Genshin’s son, not as my nameless apprentice… I see you, Kazuma Asogi. These flaws you keep trying to hide from me. This fear you have of being yourself. All the anger, and grief, and confusion… I see it all.”

Kazuma seemed to shrink under those words. “Do you despise me for it?”

“Never,” said Barok. “There is nothing inside this broken man you see but love for you.”

Which was true. Maybe that feeling wasn’t the beautiful and pure love idealized by many, but a fierce and relentless one that refused to die, no matter how many times they tried to put an end to it. Kazuma observed him for a long while, as if seeking any trace of falsehood in his words.

“Then,” he said in a tiny voice, “why do you keep running away from me?”

Barok didn’t want to tell him the truth, but he fought that urge to hide himself with everything he had.

“Because I can no longer trust myself,” he said. “I am terrified that, if I stay by your side, something horrible will happen.”

Kazuma creased his brow, confused. “What are you talking about? Lord van Zieks…” He stopped, continuing in a still anxious, but softer voice. “Barok, can’t you please just tell me what’s happening?”

Barok nodded slowly, taking a moment to find the words he needed. “I keep having these recurring nightmares.” A reluctant pause. “Dreams where you kill me with your own hands.”

Kazuma’s face dropped. “Are you scared of me?”

“No… But my mind is in a disarray since it all began.”

“Is it because I’m here?”

Barok shook his head. “None of this is your fault. I cannot even explain why I have these senseless dreams. I thought I could ignore them and move on, but this time… It was a different dream.”

“How so?”

“I was the one who killed you.” A shiver went down his spine. “In a cruel, violent way. Even now, I can still…”

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t describe how he still felt his fingers around Kazuma’s neck, his blood all over his hands… Even if it hadn’t been real, it still felt real in his mind.

He thought the confession would surprise Kazuma—possibly push him away for good. But he simply lowered his eyes, silent for a while.

“Lord van Zieks… Do you hate me?”

“No, I never did.”

“Do you think I hate you, then?”

Barok averted his gaze. “I don’t know.”

Kazuma took a deep breath, then stepped closer to him, holding him by the arm and staring into his eyes.

“That was just a dream,” he said in a low but firm tone. “Or do you really think I would harm you as I did in them?”

“Of course not. But…”

“But what?”

That was it, the one thing that terrified him to the point of paralysis—to the point of torturing himself countless times in his head.

“I have hurt you in so many ways already,” he said. “I am the one who ruined your life. Even the thought of making a single mistake that could push you past your limits…” He shut his eyes. “I cannot stand the thought of hurting you again.”

“So, you will leave me alone instead?”

“Wouldn’t that make things easier for you?”

“How would it?” He tightened his grip on Barok’s arm, voice trembling as he spoke. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. You are everything I have… The one thing keeping me from losing myself again.”

His voice threatened to break, but he still said those final words.

“Once again, you are my entire world.”

He moved closer to Barok, hesitating for just a moment before placing his arms around him, leaning against his chest.

“Leave me, and you will hurt me in a way that will never heal,” he muttered.

Barok closed his eyes, bringing a hand to Kazuma’s head. “I might hurt you more if I stay by your side.”

“Maybe that is true for both of us,” said Kazuma. “But I will never willingly hurt you again. And I know you feel the same way, so… Even if things are bad right now, it doesn’t need to be the end.” He paused, looking up at Barok’s face. “It wasn’t our choice that things happened the way they did, but we still chose to try, didn’t we?”

That question made something shift inside Barok’s chest. “We did.”

“So, let’s just keep trying. I know we can do it… And I know I can’t keep moving forward on my own.”

“It is the same for me.” Barok thought for a moment. “I do love you… More than I have ever loved anyone before. But I don’t know if I can ever make you happy.”

“Me neither…” Kazuma admitted. “I don’t even know if I can feel happiness again. But the happiest moments I’ve had since I came to this unfamiliar land have been by your side.” He raised his hand, cupping Barok’s face with it. “What I said to you before wasn’t a lie. I still love you. Even if this feeling isn’t as pure as it once was, I… I don’t think I’ll ever not love you, Barok van Zieks.”

“Even if it hurts you?”

Kazuma smiled bitterly. “Even if it hurts us both.”

Barok’s heart ached, but the pain wasn’t unwelcome. Kazuma had called himself a selfish man, and yet, had always been the one rushing to Barok’s side in his times of need. If that was the kind of selfishness they shared, Barok would gladly accept all of it.

“I am fine with this,” said Barok. “But can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?”

“No more hiding from me,” he said. “In exchange, I will stop running from you.”

Those words brought a faint smile to Kazuma’s lips. “Alright.”

Satisfied with that small but sincere answer, Barok brought a hand to the back of Kazuma’s head, sinking his fingers in his hair as he leaned forward and softly kissed his lips. Kazuma tightened his arms around him, and as soon as their lips parted, he buried his face in his chest, while Barok held him closely, taking in his presence, his smell, his warmth. All those things, so familiar and precious to him.

They were completely vulnerable, all wounds exposed… So deeply afraid that they would unwillingly hurt each other with those edges they tried to hide for so long. But the risk of breaking was better than dying alone—the promise of an incomplete happiness much sweeter than the safety of isolation. If the only thing they could do was try, then try they would.

Even if it hurt.

Together.

To the end.

As soon as Barok opened his eyes, he knew he was dreaming. This time, it wasn’t Kazuma sitting on the mattress next to him, but that mirrored copy of himself.

“You never listen to me, do you?”

Barok observed it for a while. He understood it now… How it wasn’t a cruel, sadistic part of him, but a terribly frightened one. Frightened of one single thing: hurting the person he loved the most yet again.

And to avoid that, it was ready to tarnish that fragile bond, no matter how painful it could be—even if it meant losing the one thing Barok treasured above all else in his life.

His mirror self sighed, looking at him. “Is this truly what you want?”

Barok nodded. “As long as Kazuma wants to be with me, I will not leave his side. You may try as many times as you wish, but you cannot break what we have.”

His mirror self didn’t respond for a long while. “As long as you are ready to do whatever it takes to make him smile again.”

“I will.”

Even fight his deepest fears. Even crawl out of the safety of his shell. Even expose his own wounds. Even die.

Even live.

His mirrored self let out a long, defeated sigh. “Very well… But I will be watching.” It narrowed its eyes. “Hurt him again, and I will return. I will free him from you, no matter what it takes.”

“It will never come to that.” Barok paused, looking into its eyes. “But you are me, so you already know that, don’t you?”

In response, a shadow of a smile took his other self’s lips.

“I am still glad to hear it.”

When he woke up, Kazuma was there, where his other self had been in that dream. It seemed like he had just awoken as well… Still seeming a little sleepy, he looked in Barok’s direction, offering him a tiny smile when their eyes met.

“Ah… Good morning.”

Barok responded with a faint smile of his own. Kazuma leaned in his direction, placing a kiss on his lips.

“No nightmares this time, I hope,” he said.

“No, not a single one.”

“That’s good.”

He seemed relieved. Barok observed him for a moment, that expression suddenly bringing something back to his mind.

“Asogi…”

He had so many things to say, but the words refused to come. A barely contained exasperation covered Kazuma’s face.

“You know,” he said, “you don’t need to be this careful with me. Whatever you have to say, I will listen.”

“This is precisely what I wanted to say to you.” Barok reached for his hand, holding his fingers in his. “Your anger, your regrets, your pain… Everything you carry inside. I want to carry them all alongside you. So, don’t hide yourself from me again.”

A hint of uneasiness took his face. “You may hate the person you see.”

“I would never.” Barok brought his hand to his lips, kissing it. “Not you, Kazuma. Not in my entire life.”

Kazuma slightly widened his eyes, but soon his expression brightened. His smile was soft, but warm—unlike that mask he had worn for so long.

“I will trust you, then.”

Barok couldn’t help but smile as well. Those shells they were trapped inside had cracked, slowly crumbling piece by piece, allowing them to finally see those terrified creatures hiding inside. Shattered, torn, wounded, but still desperately reaching for each other despite all else.

So, this time, Barok took his hand in his, and Kazuma held it tightly. Neither of them could know what that choice would mean for them in the future, but at that moment, the only thing that mattered was that connection that refused to break—not by resentment, not by pain.

And, as long as they refused to let go, even their deepest wounds would eventually heal. He couldn’t yet tell if there was happiness awaiting men as broken as they were at the end of the road, but if what they had together wasn’t happiness, then it was something close to it—strong and sweet enough to make everything else seem small in comparison. And, if Kazuma felt the same way, then maybe the two of them would be fine, after all.

As Barok leaned forward to kiss Kazuma’s lips, he had no doubts that those nightmares would never haunt him again.