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That evening, Kazuma and Herlock returned to the 221B apartment after a little investigation at the docks.
It all started early that morning, when Herlock—who so rarely left the bed at those, in his words, ungodly hours—had approached Kazuma to ask for his help, saying his experience as a sailor would be essential for his disguise.
“When you said it was a little investigation,” said Kazuma, “I was prepared to solve something closer to a small robbery.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “It certainly didn’t cross my mind that I was about to help dismantle a smuggling operation, which would bring down an entire organized crime group.”
The passive-aggressive commentary brought a grin to the detective’s face. “Your expectations are too low, dearest.”
“Just like your common sense, detective.”
Despite his many complaints, Kazuma wasn’t truly bothered by any of it. Unexpected escapades like that one had become quite a frequent event since he became closer to the Great Detective and his prodigious daughter—and even more after he accepted their invitation to move into the attic of their apartment. Since then, his days had been much more eventful and less quiet, but also much brighter than before.
As if capable of hearing his thoughts, Herlock threw him an amused look. “Are you perhaps implying that you didn’t enjoy our little adventure?”
“I never said that.” He gave a small shrug. “And, if anything, acting as a sailor again was strangely nostalgic.”
“Is that so?” Herlock seemed intrigued. “How curious, to feel nostalgic about something most people would consider the worst moment of their lives.”
“It really wasn’t, though.” Kazuma considered it briefly. “I mean, it wasn’t necessarily good, but when I think about it, a number of worse things come to mind.”
The corner of Herlock’s lips curled into a playful grin. “Many related to your dear mentor, I suppose?”
“For sure…” Kazuma sighed. “Trying to make that man do the bare minimum for his health and safety is an endless nightmare.”
“Oh, dear… My mind can conjure nothing but a faint image of the daily horrors you face while caring for him.” He barely tried to hide his amusement. “But know that sweet Iris and I appreciate your continuous efforts when it comes to watching over our darling prosecutor.”
“Not that I really mind it,” Kazuma shrugged. “He was kind to me when I didn’t even have a name to offer him, so this is the least I can do.” He paused, smiling playfully. “And I must admit that scolding my dear mentor like a child over skipped meals and sleepless nights can be somewhat amusing.”
“I must agree with that sentiment.”
“Not that taking care of a reckless detective is much easier, of course.”
Unlike Barok, who would be terribly embarrassed at such a comment, Herlock let out a hearty laugh at it. “What a situation you have found yourself in… My deepest apologies for contributing to your distress, dear Kazuma.”
“I think I am dealing with it pretty well, all things considered.”
“You most certainly are.”
With a wet piece of cloth in hand, Herlock leaned toward Kazuma, starting to carefully clean the makeup he had applied to his face to make him look older, more ragged, and deeply sunburned.
“I must say,” said Herlock in a lower voice. “Despite my greatest efforts to make your face less striking, you are still quite pleasant to look upon.”
Kazuma chuckled. “Are you flirting with me, detective?”
“I am simply stating what is on my mind, sweetest.”
With those words, Herlock leaned forward, placing a brief kiss on his lips before returning to what he was doing.
“But I have to say,” Kazuma continued, “you did quite an impressive job. I’m so used to people staring at Barok van Zieks’ Japanese apprentice that being completely ignored was… strangely nice.”
“Should I help you change into a middle-aged sailor every morning starting tomorrow?”
“As tempting as being ignored by most may sound, I am sure having a seaman unexpectedly leading the prosecution would cause a few problems for my already overworked mentor.”
“How considerate of you.”
“And also, Gina would be insufferable if she saw me like this.”
“Which is also a valid point.” Herlock forced a disappointed sigh. “Fair enough… I shall save my efforts for when they are truly needed.”
“Like when you decide to make me wear a dress?”
“Precisely. You are quite a lovely lady, my dear.”
“And so are you,” Kazuma grinned. “A pair of beautiful ladies, not at all related to the men who often cause trouble in the great city of London.”
“You call it trouble, dear…” Herlock leaned slightly forward. “I call it delightful escapades.”
“Which may or may not cause me a few headaches…”
“But will certainly bring unparalleled delight to your days as well.” He paused, giving Kazuma’s face a more attentive look. “Seems good enough for now. What remains will come off when you take a bath.”
“Do you need help with yours?”
“Don’t worry about it, just change your clothes.”
Kazuma did as he said. He was still halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, however, when he noticed the unusual silence. Kazuma glanced back, noticing Herlock’s eyes on him.
“What is it?” he asked.
Herlock smiled, lightly shaking his head. “I don’t say this often, but I am quite fond of this positive attitude of yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you can easily turn painful memories into more pleasant thoughts.”
The comment was so unexpected that Kazuma wasn’t sure of how to respond. “I just had enough of feeling miserable over the past already.” He smiled. “Something a certain detective might have taught me.”
“You flatter me, dearest.” He paused, adding in a lower voice. “You are quite strong, are you not?”
Kazuma shrugged with a half-grin. “Obviously.”
Once again, silence.
“Mr. Sholmes?”
Without a word, Herlock moved closer to him, stopping behind his back. He touched the back of Kazuma’s neck, and it took him a moment to understand he was contouring with his finger the scar from his close encounter with death in the SS Burya.
“There are very few things I deeply regret in my life,” he said in a low voice. “One of them is leaving you alone that day.”
The weight in his voice made Kazuma’s chest tighten. At first, he had resented Herlock for what happened; however, after the end of Barok’s trial, he no longer had that fierce urge to feed his hatred and turn it into strength. It didn’t take long for that feeling to wilt, just like the one he carried against his mentor.
“You have brought me into your home,” said Kazuma, “so I would say you have repaid me more than enough for it.”
“And still, if I had been more careful, it would have saved you much grief.”
Kazuma glanced at him over his shoulder. “It’s strange to hear you sound this somber.”
A small laugh left his lips. “Apologies, sweetest. I shall return to my usual behavior in a moment.”
Kazuma felt Herlock’s lips on the back of his neck, staying there for a long while. When he finally moved away, Herlock took his hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss its back.
“May your days in this place be more fortunate and joyful than your past ones,” said Herlock.
The feeling carried by those words was quite sweet, but also left him slightly embarrassed. In an attempt to hide it, he let out a low chuckle.
“Was that a magic spell?” he asked.
“A man of science like myself would not rely on something as intangible as magic.” Herlock placed his arms around Kazuma’s waist. “It is more of a plan, which I intend to help turn into reality.”
That response made Kazuma smile, a warm feeling inside his chest. “It’s already working, then.”
“Is that so?”
Kazuma hummed in response, closing his eyes, enjoying that proximity for a moment longer.