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Centaurea cyanus: a common wildflower belonging to the aster family, and known by most as the "cornflower" or "bachelor's button," it is an ordinary plant, with a most extraordinary power. Should a young man ever find himself in love, it is said that he need only wear a cornflower upon his coat. If the bloom is quick to wither and fade away, then he must sadly accept that his love will not be returned. If it continues to thrive, however…
At least, that's how the story goes.
Kazuma's brow furrows in concentration as he stares intently at the vibrant blue flower in his hand, hard enough that the mere act alone is nearly enough to give him a headache. It doesn't look like anything particularly special to him, he thinks. The soft, delicate petals, the pale grayish-green stem—he's seen all sorts of flowers throughout his life, and this one isn't any more or less remarkable than all the others. Just a simple, mundane plant. Pleasing to look upon, sure, but nothing like the wondrous image the story had painted within his mind.
Taking one last look at the flower, Kazuma rises from the chair and crosses the floor of his room to stand before the mirror. He stares at his reflection as he affixes the flower to his uniform, the blue petals contrasting against the bright white of his attire in a most eye-catching way.
…This is ridiculous.
When that story had first passed Kazuma's ears, he can't deny the sense of curiosity it had sparked. Tales of love have always held a certain fascination for him, and this one had been no different, simplistic though it may be. However, fascination or not, that doesn't necessarily mean that he believes it to be true. Most stories are just that: stories. On any other occasion, that would have been the end of it, and yet when he'd returned from his early morning training this day, he'd done so with the freshly-plucked flower in his hand and a sense of determination in his heart.
He frowns.
How long am I even supposed to wear this, he wonders. An hour? A day?
There's still time to abandon this foolish course of action, spare himself any chance of embarrassment or disappointment. All he need do is remove the bloom and be done with it, it's as easy as that; no one ever has to know. What does he have to lose, anyway?
The clock ticks by with each passing second, the thought of abandoning this endeavor all too tempting, yet still he makes no move to do so. A quiet sigh passes his lips.
What do I have to lose? Probably nothing. Maybe everything.
In his mind's eye, Kazuma sees a bright ray of hope shining down over a potential future. He sees joy, comfort, affection—he sees a familiar face, stern and melancholy, but etched with an unexpected softness, if one were to look beyond the surface.
Kazuma can't say with certainty when exactly it was that he'd found himself falling for his mentor, only that the realization had struck him with all the force of a tempest. Out of all the people on this earth who could have possibly captured his heart, he'd never imagined that it would be Barok van Zieks. This is the same man he'd sworn vengeance upon, not so long ago, the man who'd once had a hand in taking his father away from him. How could Kazuma ever love him? How could there ever be a future for them, knowing full well the history that they share?
Yet, in the end, perhaps it is that very history that has ultimately brought them together. Who better than Lord van Zieks to understand the pain, the loss, the turmoil—he has suffered in the aftermath of those tragic events, too, the same as Kazuma has. To have someone now who he can truly connect with on this matter, so much more than anyone else he's ever known, that is something that he'll never take for granted. And Van Zieks is kind, too, in spite of what his icy exterior might suggest. He is resilient, yet gentle. Honest, yet considerate. How could Kazuma not love him?
With a slow, deep exhale, he straightens his posture, that uncertain look in his eyes vanishing. No, he can't really say that he believes this will work, but if there's even the slightest possibility that he might determine whether or not Van Zieks feels the same, then that's reason enough to try.
Kazuma finishes getting himself ready for the day and starts to head out for work, stopping for only a moment to throw on his cloak, obscuring the flower from view.
When he steps into the office that morning, heart thumping in his chest, he finds Van Zieks already preoccupied with the day's work. Van Zieks lifts his head at Kazuma's arrival, greeting him with nothing more than a curious look.
"Quite cold today, wouldn't you say?" Kazuma says, swiftly turning away and making his way to his desk.
"I hadn't noticed."
The morning passes without incident, and midday quickly arrives. It's a day not unlike any other—another new trial to prepare for, more evidence to examine, and of course, far, far too much paperwork. Kazuma carries on like he always does, keeping preoccupied with whatever tasks demand his attention, but nevertheless, a sense of apprehension continues to follow him. More than once he finds himself adjusting his cloak when he's certain that no one else is looking, examining the flower carefully and thoroughly. He doesn't notice any sign of change, at least not right away, but perhaps he's just being too impatient. This day is far from over.
Afternoon. Rays of gold shine down through the clouds as the sun makes its gradual journey across the skies. This day, the city is as busy as ever. Distant, intermingling voices fill the air, accompanied by the rhythmic sounds of hoofbeats and wooden wheels against the cobblestones. Occasionally, the soft flapping of wings can be heard as well as birds pass by overhead. And, soon enough, Kazuma and Van Zieks' own voices join this dissonant chorus. They walk the streets side by side, quietly discussing the new information they've managed to glean as they make their way back from the crime scene. New insights to further their understanding, new mysteries to unravel. It's in the midst of this hushed conversation that the assailants make their presence known.
Kazuma had thought, following the results of that trial, that these attacks would diminish, but unfortunately for the both of them, that hasn't been the case. Maybe it's simply too soon, and with enough time such incidents will lessen, if not cease altogether. At the very least, that's what he's hoping for. Until then, however, the possibility of ambush remains an ever-present threat.
It's no matter, this is nothing that the two of them can't handle. Seconds pass in the blink of an eye, and before long, the sound of retreating footsteps echo through the air as the attackers are inevitably forced to flee, but not before one of the men manages to shove Kazuma to the ground in his haste. A groan escapes past Kazuma's lips. He pushes himself to his feet, feeling an ache in his side, and when he presses a hand to that spot, he's quickly met with another sharp pain. It doesn't feel like anything too serious, but it will certainly leave a bruise.
"Are you alright?" Van Zieks asks, sheathing his sword once they're alone.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Kazuma says, muttering a curse under his breath a moment later when he withdraws his hand and finds his glove now stained with a blotch of red.
"You're injured," Van Zieks says, more a statement of fact than an inquiry. He steps forward, moving to close the distance between them.
"I said I'm fine," Kazuma reiterates with a slight hint of panic, instinctively taking a step backwards and pulling his cloak tighter around himself. "Truly."
Still, Van Zieks persists, responding with nothing more than a soft huff of exasperation, as though to state that he has no intention of entertaining this same old back-and-forth yet again.
Kazuma scowls. "I promise, there's no need—"
It's too late. The clasp comes undone, and when Van Zieks brushes the cloak aside to inspect the wound, he pauses, his gaze immediately falling upon the small blue flower. For just the briefest moment, there's a look of what can only be described as recognition upon his face before he turns back to Kazuma. He raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, yes. That." Kazuma feels his face begin to flush under the gaze of those pale, inquisitive eyes. It's as if his heart is but an open door through which Van Zieks can see straight through him, right into the depths of his very soul. "It's nothing. I was merely…"
But before Kazuma's mind can come up with an explanation, his body has already begun to move of its own accord. He can't explain exactly how it happens, he only knows that one second he's standing there like a fool, unable to form a single syllable on his tongue, and the next he's clinging to the collar of Van Zieks' coat, lips entwined with his in a kiss. A brief, yet eager kiss, those few seconds igniting with a bright spark of passion before fading away.
It isn't until they've separated that Kazuma realizes his mistake. Cheeks burning all the more fiercely, he swiftly pulls back, releasing his hold on Van Zieks as his body goes tense, but his own surprise is nothing compared to the look of pure shock upon his mentor's face. Normally so poised and aloof, now Van Zieks can seem to do no more than stare back at him in a look of pure shock. Kazuma doesn't believe he's ever seen his face look this red before, nor his eyes so wide.
"Forgive me, my lord," Kazuma quickly stammers out. "I wasn't thinking—I should not have—"
"…"
The silence between them is palpable, the discomfort thick enough as to be nearly suffocating. It takes all of Kazuma's willpower not to turn on his heels and run far, far away from this place, never looking back. Fortunately, the world isn't without mercy, and it's not long before the sound of faint voices and approaching footsteps begin to ring in his ears. He glances back over his shoulder, finding a small crowd of onlookers slowly starting to form, no doubt drawn by the earlier commotion. Kazuma turns back, straightening his posture in an attempt to collect himself, and Van Zieks appears to do the same.
"Perhaps," Van Zieks murmurs, a slight pinkish hue still painting his cheeks, "it would be wiser to continue this conversation somewhere more…private."
Kazuma merely gives a brief nod in agreement, thankful to be spared this humiliation for a little while longer.
The door to the office closes, and it's just the two of them once more. With their statements already given to the police about the earlier incident, and their wounds (some minor cuts and bruises, but nothing serious) now cleaned and bandaged, there's no longer any avoiding the second incident of this afternoon.
At first, neither of them says a word, simply picking up right from where they'd left off. Kazuma gets settled in, doing his best to ignore the uncomfortable pit in his stomach, but as the seconds turn to minutes while he stares blankly down at the wood grain of his desk, having made absolutely no progress in his current task—and as Van Zieks makes no attempt to broach the subject, either—he's eventually forced to accept that he must be the one to take that first step. So it is that, with a deep breath, Kazuma slowly rises to his feet and moves to stand before Van Zieks.
"My lord," he says.
A momentary pause, and Van Zieks looks up to him from the document in his hand.
"I wish to apologize for my behavior before," Kazuma continues, his heart rate increasing with every word that passes his lips. "I shouldn't have done something so reckless."
There's a split second where Kazuma is almost certain that he sees a flicker of that same flustered look from before upon Van Zieks' face, but it vanishes just as quickly as it comes. "Your apology is accepted," Van Zieks says with a slow dip of his head.
"Good." That heaviness in his chest is lifted, and Kazuma can breathe easy again. "Well then, now that the matter is settled, I'd appreciate it if we could forget that this ever happened."
"…Of course. If that is what you wish."
Kazuma furrows his brow. Was that…disappointment he'd heard in Van Zieks' tone? Resignation? Surely not. "Is something troubling you, my lord?"
Van Zieks averts his gaze as he returns his attention to the document, and Kazuma is almost certain he sees him tense up ever so slightly. "Not at all," he says. "We should get back to work."
"No, you have more that you wish to say," Kazuma insists, leaning over the desk in an attempt to force Van Zieks to look at him. "I know you do, you would not have suggested we resume this discussion elsewhere if that weren't the case."
"Did you not just express that you wanted to forget this ever happened?"
"I've changed my mind."
Van Zieks exhales sharply, but still he refuses to speak any further.
"Are you angry with me?" Kazuma frowns. "I understand if you do not partake in my sentiments, so to speak, but as your apprentice, I think you at least owe me your assurance that this will not affect our working relationship in any way." The words do not come easy to him, thick and heavy like tar upon his tongue, but he forces them out all the same.
"Angry?" Van Zieks turns to face him, and this time, his expression seems much softer than before. "Mr. Asougi, I promise you, that is not the case. You may doubt whatever else I have said, but I pray you will at least believe this much."
Under the gaze of those gentle eyes, a strange mix of confusion, guilt, and longing wells up inside Kazuma's chest. "Yes…I understand."
"And," Van Zieks goes on to say in a low voice, "for what it's worth, your…sentiments are not so unreciprocated as you may think."
…What?
When those words pass Van Zieks' lips, the weight of them come crashing into Kazuma like a tidal wave. Surely this is a jest, it must be. For a moment, Kazuma can do naught but stare blankly at him, his mind struggling to catch up. "What? Then—" His cheeks begin to burn, though whether out of embarrassment or frustration, or both, he cannot tell. "All this time? Why didn't you ever say anything?"
Van Zieks remains composed, in stark contrast to Kazuma's own flustered state, yet even he isn't entirely immune as a slight blush slowly begins to creep up on him as well as he says, "I am your mentor. Such an admission would not have been proper."
"You can't possibly expect me to believe that was your only reason."
"Is it not the truth?" Van Zieks counters. "Besides, I should point out that you've had plenty of opportunity to speak up before now, yourself."
"Speak up? How could I have?" Kazuma lowers his gaze. "I was the one who'd tried to have you hanged as the Reaper. Why would you ever want me in return, after everything I've done?" Without thinking, his hand comes to rest upon the bloom still attached to his uniform, fingertips gently brushing against the delicate petals.
"Yes," Van Zieks says, "and because of me, your father…" A quiet sigh. "How could I have asked for more from you, after I'd already taken so much?"
There's a soft rustling of fabric, the sound of graceful footsteps, and Van Zieks is at Kazuma's side. At first, he seems to hesitate, starting to reach out to Kazuma, only to stop himself before making any sort of contact. But, it is just for a moment, as Kazuma soon closes that distance to take Van Zieks' hand in his own, acting more on instinct than anything else. When Van Zieks doesn't pull away, he gives a gentle squeeze, light enough that Van Zieks could still disengage if he so wishes, but strong enough to allow his affection to be felt.
"This world sure loves its cruel tricks, doesn't it?" Kazuma says.
"Indeed it does."
Nothing more is said, and silence returns. In the stillness, the muffled sounds of the city seem louder than before as they continue to sail along on the wind, the world beyond an ever-flowing tide that not even the mightiest of tensions could ever quell. It makes no difference to Kazuma; let the rest of them have their normality and their mundane routines, he'd rather seek out the bliss that waits just beyond the storm. He's never much cared for calm waters, anyway.
"I meant what I said before, by the way," Kazuma says after a while, "about having changed my mind." He smiles. "Unless you have any objections, that is?"
"Perish the thought."
It's only three, simple words, but they bring a sense of ease to Kazuma's chest, brighter and warmer than the sun itself. He leans in closer. "May I kiss you again, my lord? Properly, this time."
"Mr. Asougi—"
"Kazuma."
"Kazuma, I…"
Van Zieks' lips feel so much warmer than Kazuma had expected they'd be, so much softer. For such a distant, guarded man as he, it can be difficult to imagine any part of him that could be described as comforting or even friendly, but the more time they spend together, the more clearly Kazuma sees it, the truth hiding behind that mask. Their kiss is a slow one, tentative and patient as they carefully test the waters between them. It's a sweet kiss, an affectionate kiss—a kiss of pure contentment, like the feeling of returning home after a long day out in the cold, pouring rain.
This time, when the kiss breaks and Kazuma pulls away, it is done so without any sense of shame or regret, his heart and soul in perfect harmony.
"We ought to finish up our work for the day, there's still much we need to prepare for," Van Zieks says. "That said, once this case is finished, perhaps you'd care to…"
"Yes," Kazuma says, not needing to hear the rest of his proposal. So long as they're together, he would be content to go anywhere and do just about anything. "I'd love to."
Van Zieks gives him a small smile, a lovely sight so rare it nearly makes Kazuma's heart burst, before he returns to his desk, and Kazuma follows suit shortly thereafter. He sits down and gets comfortable, but instead of getting straight to work, he again finds himself absentmindedly brushing his fingertips over the small flower. Carefully, he detaches it from his uniform and holds it out before himself. At a glance, he can see that it looks rather crushed from his fall earlier that day, a few of the petals appearing to have come off altogether. And yet, even then it remains as striking as it had been that morning, as bright and blue as the sea—damaged from the struggles of life, but still beautiful in spite of it all. Kazuma lets out an amused huff of a laugh as he sets the flower down upon his desk.
It would appear that the stories were true, after all.