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By the time the street lamps outside lit up and the paperwork they needed to do was done, Kazuma had already, for the third time, regretted his decision to invite his mentor to dinner.
It wasn't because the invitation itself was improper, or because Barok would refuse. He had, in fact, accepted with grave courtesy, as though Kazuma had merely proposed a meeting on legal business. The trouble lay in the fact that Kazuma meant it to be something else.
"Would you care to dine with me this evening?"
Barok, who had been working at his big mahogany desk, had lifted his head with a surprised expression. "A dinner with me, Prosecutor Asougi?"
Kazuma had nearly swallowed his tongue. "Yes. If you are free."
Now he was sitting across from his mentor in a private dining room in a respectable restaurant. He kept his head low and stared down at the food, trying not to make it too obvious that he was sneaking glances at the man in front of him.
He'd suggested this place mostly because he couldn't handle the thought of having Barok sit across from him in the dining room at home, where there'd be no one else except them. The familiar setting would only make the situation feel awkward. It was easier, in theory, to try closeness in public. In practice, he was beginning to suspect that there was no version of this that would feel entirely natural.
The room was warm, though not overly so. A small fire burned in the grate. The table had been set neatly, and the meal before them was elegant without being showy. Steam rose from the soup bowls. Outside, the city went on with its usual noise of carriages, softened here by glass and walls of the room.
Barok sat with his back straight and his expression composed. He had removed his coat and held his wineglass in one hand. Even at dinner, he looked as though he'd stepped directly out of an Renaissance painting.
Kazuma found that irritating. He also found it, unfortunately, rather appealing.
"I hope the place meets your expectations, my Lord," he said, using the polite, formal tone that had unfortunately long become their default.
"Yes. It's quite adequate," Barok replied.
Kazuma blinked once, then realized that the remark was probably intended as praise. "I'm glad it meets your approval."
"It does." Barok took a sip from his glass, then set it down. Kazuma thought the red stain left on his lips was a little distracting. "However, if I may ask, have you been faring well with the workload? Or did I perhaps assign a little too much work to you?"
"No, I can still manage my work fine." Kazuma raised a brow. "Why do you ask?"
"You looked rather serious and nervous when you asked me to join you. I had assumed the matter to be professional in nature, but it appears I was mistaken."
Kazuma nearly laughed out of frustration. "Yes, you were, in fact, mistaken."
"Then I confess I am at a loss as to your intent."
Kazuma grumbled under his breath. Did his mentor not consider that he might have invited him for reasons unrelated to work? That perhaps he simply wanted to be nice to him? He wanted Barok to sit across from him in a context that was neither court nor office, where the distance between them might be less rigid than usual. He wanted to be closer to him.
At last, all Kazuma managed was, "I just want to have a chat with you."
"Ah, I understand. My apologies." The older man inclined his head, and Kazuma could not tell whether the gesture meant comprehension or regret. Given Barok's nature, it was likely both.
A quiet fell between them. It wasn't unpleasant; it was merely awkward, which was in some ways even worse.
Kazuma glanced at him over the rim of his glass. "You don't need to act like I've hidden a dagger somewhere in here."
Barok avoided his gaze. "I hadn't been doing so."
"You were considering it."
"I was considering whether you have ever behaved without a reason."
Kazuma opened his mouth, then shut it again. It was a fair accusation.
The older man took a subtle inhale before continued. "If there is some concern you wish to raise, you may do so freely."
Kazuma thought, a little annoyed and displeased, that the man truly had no idea. That was almost worse than if he'd known and chosen to ignore it. Kazuma had been attempting with all his might to create an opening for a simple, casual conversation in hope that it might somehow draw them closer. Instead, Barok had apparently interpreted the entire evening as a veiled interrogation.
He sighed. "There is no concern."
"Then I am relieved."
Kazuma wanted to snap, but after a moment he glanced down at his glass and sighed quietly through his nose. He had to remind himself that their relationship was still in a somewhat awkward stage after finally clearing away the hatred and misunderstanding they'd borne for years. Not to mention, after shutting himself away in his mansion for so long, his mentor wasn't exactly the most emotionally intelligent person in the world.
Kazuma pressed on before he lost his nerve entirely. "We've worked together for some time. Yet it often feels as though everything between us occurs in offices, courtrooms, or under circumstances best described as inconvenient. I thought dinner might be a nice change of pace."
Barok looked at him for a long moment. His expression turned softer, and a little awkward, almost sheepish. Kazuma didn't think he'd ever seen such a look on the man's face.
"You're really considerate," his mentor said at last.
Kazuma frowned. "That isn't the point."
"No?" Barok asked, and there was a hint of genuine inquiry in it now. "It was a gracious gesture, which I am not accustomed to receiving. Pray, forgive me."
The words were mild, even neutral, but they brought a small, uncomfortable silence with them. Kazuma looked away first. Oh, his dense, dense mentor.
Barok, of course, noticed.
"If I have said anything that upset you, then I apologize." His tone remained polite. "You have every reason to resent me. It wouldn't be beyond expectation for you to arrange a private dinner in order to express that resentment, ensuring I could not easily avoid or dismiss it."
The older man, apparently relieved that he had finally explained himself, exhaled a nervous sigh and continued with grave composure. "I assure you I shall not object if this is your intention. You are within your rights."
For one second, Kazuma could only stare at him. Then he laughed. It was a helpless, dejected sound that escaped him despite himself. Inside, his frustration was seriously boiling.
He wanted to pull Barok closer by the collar and grind every word through gritted teeth that he just wanted to have a nice, civil dinner with him. At this point, Kazuma was genuinely beginning to consider resenting the older man for being such a fucking idiot despite being an admirable prosecutor.
"No," Kazuma said once he had caught his breath. "No, it isn't my intention as well."
Barok seemed puzzled. "Then what is?"
Kazuma almost followed through on the image in his head. Truly, he nearly did. Instead he reached for the bread and tore off a piece with unnecessary force. "I simply wanted to have a normal dinner with you, Lord van Zieks."
Barok regarded him as though this required careful legal interpretation. At length he said, "Are you sure, Asougi?"
"It's the only explanation you'll receive."
"So be it." Barok's mouth softened by the barest amount, which for him counted as a notable concession. "Then I shall accept it in the spirit in which it is offered."
Kazuma lowered his head, hoping the candlelight might conceal his sulkiness. "You aren't at all curious?"
"About your motives? Certainly I am." Barok lifted his silverware. "However, curiosity is no excuse for rudeness, and you have invited me to dine. It would be discourteous to press the matter when you have chosen not to elaborate."
Kazuma let out a disappointed sigh. Of course that would be his answer. But there was no need to rush. They still had all the time possible together in the future.
The rest of the meal passed more easily after that, though not effortlessly. Barok was still Barok: reserved, cautious, but so earnest in his effort to indulge his apprentice that Kazuma had to look away before he smiled too openly. Eventually, the tension in Kazuma's nerves began to ease.
Barok asked about the day's work, like the attentive mentor he had always been, even back when Kazuma had no memory and had simply been the silent Masked Disciple who followed him everywhere. Kazuma answered with half-truths and dry remarks that made Barok's eyes narrow in what might, with a massive stretch, be called amusement. Neither of them wanted to discuss work, but they also didn't have much else in common yet, so they drifted into safer subjects: the weather, the city, and the unexpectedly high quality of the tea served in a small secluded shop near the van Zieks mansion.
When Kazuma reached for the sauce and nearly knocked over the pepper shaker, Barok's hand moved automatically to steady it before it could tip. Their fingers didn't touch, but the gesture made Kazuma jolt and sit up straighter nonetheless, his heart fluttering inside his chest.
Barok noticed that too, though perhaps not the reason for it, as he looked faintly hurt by how strongly Kazuma had reacted when their hands had nearly brushed. Kazuma could practically read the thought on Barok's face, and he clenched his teeth to stop himself from blurting out, "You idiot!"
After they finished the meal, the plates were cleared away and the waiters brought out a set of sweets arranged on a nice silver dessert stands. Barok set his tea cup aside and picked up a macaron after seeing Kazuma enjoy one. His brow furrowed immediately at the sweetness, though he tried not to be too obvious about it.
"Cute," Kazuma thought.
"This was pleasant," Barok mumbled.
Kazuma raised a brow at him. "Only pleasant?"
Barok considered. "More than pleasant, I believe. Though I hesitate to inflate the matter, since I have no experience spending time with others in this manner to compare it with."
Kazuma's lips twitched, secretly pleased to hear that. "Then perhaps I need to invite you out more often in future."
Barok pretended to reach for another dessert to hide his face from Kazuma's gaze. It was to no avail. The young prosecutor had already caught the small happy upward curve of his lips.
"I'm looking forward to it," Barok said.
Kazuma lowered his eyes before the warmth in them could become too obvious.
When they had finished dessert, and Kazuma had paid for the meal after heatedly refusing his mentor's offer to do so instead, Barok rose first and reached for his gloves." Let's walk back home together, shall we?"
Kazuma answered without hesitation. "Yes. I would like that."
The van Zieks mansion had once been occupied by Barok alone. Now it was Kazuma's home too. Their home.
Barok nodded. "Then let us go."
When they stepped out together into the cool evening air, Kazuma noted that the awkwardness between them, though still present, had something softer beneath it now. He glanced at the tall man beside him. Barok walked at his side with one hand resting on his cane, looking ever calm and collected even on the darkening street.
He was still a bit too dense, much to Kazuma's dismay. But he had come to the dinner Kazuma invited him to without a second thought, which was a great step in their relationship. This, for now, would have to do.