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After two long days, Barok had finally brought that difficult trial to its end. It had been a while since he last felt challenged in court—his last worthy opponent being Naruhodo, as much as he would like to deny it. Yet, when those who should work alongside him in that search for the truth chose a path commanded by greed, it became much harder for Barok to do his job properly, often making more effort than necessary while separating truth from lies.
Thankfully, his apprentice had been of great help to him, often noticing details and pointing out flaws before Barok himself could. Not only that, but he also gained Barok’s trust by defending him in combat, and his gratitude by caring for him in countless small ways despite never being asked to. After almost three months living together, Barok found himself quietly wishing that those peaceful days they shared would never come to an end.
A foolish thought, which he made an effort to keep out of his mind. Instead, he focused on that man’s work: he wasn’t only a competent apprentice, but Barok could see how he would be an impressive prosecutor one day—perhaps one to surpass himself.
But before that day came, he was the ally Barok never thought he would have. An ally, but also a friend. Someone dear to him.
For that reason, when the two of them managed to ensure a guilty verdict with so much effort, it felt right to show his apprentice his gratitude in some way.
Unfortunately, words always failed him when he needed them the most, so instead of praising his efforts, Barok searched for another way to celebrate that victory. Nothing too extravagant, of course… The last thing he wanted was to make his apprentice uncomfortable by drawing too much attention to someone supposed to keep his identity hidden. Perhaps something simple would be enough—he could save the more elaborate ideas for the future.
With that in mind, after they arrived at his manor and changed into more comfortable clothes, Barok called his apprentice to the drawing room, joining him with a bottle of fine wine.
“I suppose this deserves a celebration,” he said.
His apprentice lowered his gaze to the bottle, silent. Only then did something cross Barok’s mind.
“Do you drink alcohol?”
His apprentice thought for a moment, shaking his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Of course.” He should have taken it into consideration before. “Would you rather have some tea?”
“No, I think I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t exaggerate, then.”
His apprentice nodded, a slight smile on his face—once a rare sight, which now became more and more common, to Barok’s delight. After spending so much of their time together, Barok had grown quite attached to that man. No, calling it attachment would be an understatement, but Barok wasn’t yet ready to face the truth behind his feelings.
Those thoughts were persistent, and he made an effort to push them away. Instead, he turned his attention to the wine, filling the apprentice’s glass, watching as he took the first sip.
“Is it to your taste?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s good.”
“You may have more if you so wish.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
His pleased face was quite endearing. Barok filled his own glass, and for a minute, they drank quietly. Silence was pleasant between the two of them—like any moment they spent together, be it by exchanging words or not. But at that moment, Barok felt compelled to interrupt the silence, forcing himself to say the words he had struggled to voice until that moment.
“You did an outstanding job during this case. If you weren’t there, I might not have done it on my own.”
His apprentice looked at him, surprise soon giving place to satisfaction. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Barok nodded, pressing his lips together as he struggled to find the right words. “If there is anything you wish… As a thank you gift for your hard work, you… You may say it, and I will give it to you.”
Oh, God… When had it been the last time he stumbled upon his words like that? Thankfully, his apprentice didn’t comment on it, giving the question some thought.
“I can’t think of anything right now,” he admitted, lowering his eyes. “Most of the time, I can’t even tell what I like or dislike… It’s as if everything is new to me.”
It was such a strange concept that Barok found it difficult to imagine. He moved closer, placing a hand on his apprentice’s back, hoping the gesture could be of some comfort—a reminder that he had someone he could rely on.
“It will all come back to you eventually,” said Barok. “Until then, you may learn new things about yourself.” A small pause. “And I would be glad to help you as you do.”
A tiny laugh left his apprentice’s lips. “It’s like, instead of an apprentice, you’re watching over a little child, isn’t it?”
“I don’t see it this way. More than watching over you, sometimes I feel that you are the one caring for this disgrace of a mentor you have.”
“You’re not…” His apprentice faced him. “I never thought this about you. You are an admirable man, Lord van Zieks.”
“And so are you. In more ways than I could name.” Barok looked into his chalice as he spoke. “In my eyes, you are my reliable apprentice and a dear friend. There is no one else I would rather trust with my life, or share a peaceful moment with.”
He was surprised by his own words, despite how true they were. Barok was quite resistant to alcohol, so it couldn’t possibly have been the wine’s influence… Perhaps his feelings had grown too large to stay hidden inside, and found a way to escape in the form of words. Barok glanced at his apprentice, who once again had his eyes low, the visible half of his face covered by a red flush.
“Would you mind if I drank a little more?” he asked.
The unusual bashfulness in his voice was so precious it made Barok’s chest hurt. “Suit yourself. But stop if you feel that you are reaching your limits.”
“I will.”
Once again, the silence reigned in the room. This time, however, there was a hint of something else in it, its presence filling Barok’s mind, making him more nervous with each passing minute. He glanced at his apprentice, who drank quietly while looking the opposite way, and couldn’t tell what was going through his mind.
Even looking at him made his heart race painfully, so Barok turned his gaze away. That wasn’t right… Even if he weren’t simply imagining things, to hope for anything to happen between them… As that man’s mentor, the thought by itself was a betrayal of his trust.
No, he wasn’t hoping for anything. He simply got himself lost in the moment and all his gratitude for that man—the one person he had grown close to in many years. Had he been too forward with his words, though? More importantly: was his decade of loneliness what pushed him to get too attached to someone whose name he didn’t even know?
That could be it. It would make sense… And it would make things easier for him than the alternative. Easier to control; easier to overcome. More than anything, he hoped that nothing capable of ruining that bond they formed came their way.
An uncomfortable feeling grew inside him, and Barok decided to deal with it the only way he knew how, refilling his glass with that now mostly empty bottle. Strange… He thought it was still half full.
“Lord van Zieks…”
The low voice of his apprentice brought his mind back to reality. “Yes?”
His apprentice looked at him, and something about his voice and behavior worried Barok.
“How do I know that I’ve drunk too much?”
The question made him blink, perplexed. “Is everything alright?”
“I think so…” He looked at his empty glass. “It just crossed my mind that… I don’t know what it feels like to be drunk.”
He was definitely dragging out his words… Guilt stung in Barok’s consciousness: he should have paid better attention to him instead of losing himself in his inner turmoil.
“Perhaps it is time for you to stop.” Barok took the glass from his hand, resting it on the table. “Are you feeling unwell?”
The apprentice slowly shook his head. “I think I’m fine.”
“Good to know.” Barok lowered his glass as well, looking at that man. “At least now we have a better idea of your limits.”
A small chuckle left his lips. “Not that impressive, are they?”
Looking at him as he smiled like that made Barok’s body move on its own. Instead of answering, he brought his hand to his apprentice’s head, lightly caressing his hair.
“You already are impressive enough in many ways.”
Perhaps because the man was drunk, but it made voicing those feelings much easier. Of course, Barok had no plans to say or do anything more than that—he would rather die than cause that man any harm. But small things like those words… They wouldn’t trouble him, would they?
He wanted to believe so, at least.
Still, he moved his hand away, speaking in a more serious voice. “About what I said before, give it some thought. There is no need to answer right away, but if you can think of anything you desire, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
The apprentice didn’t respond for a while. He raised his eyes, meeting Barok’s gaze from behind that mask.
“Lord van Zieks, can you… hold me?”
Barok stared at him, certain that he had misheard his words. “Pardon?”
With a faint smile on his face, the apprentice reached for Barok’s hand, bringing it to his cheek. “Your hands always feel nice when you touch me, so I thought… It would feel even better to be held by you.”
Held by…? Oh, of course. It wasn’t strange for someone to long for human touch, was it? And that man had been alone for a long time before they met… There wasn’t anything unusual in such a request.
“Yes, of course.”
Clearly pleased, the apprentice stepped closer to him, and Barok received him in a careful hug; the apprentice closed his arms around his waist, pressing his face against his chest.
Barok hadn’t realized how deeply he longed for that kind of proximity until he finally felt it. A hot feeling spread throughout his body, and without thinking, he tightened his embrace, feeling his apprentice’s warmth with his entire being. There was no way that man hadn’t noticed Barok’s hasty heartbeats… But he said nothing, so Barok pretended nothing was amiss, staying like that until his apprentice found the comfort he needed in the gesture.
A minute passed, then another, and his apprentice didn’t show any signs of wanting to end that hug. Barok brought his hands to his shoulders, gently trying to move him away. As a response, the arms around his body held him even tighter.
“Don’t…” his apprentice muttered against his chest.
Barok looked down at him, brow deeply furrowed. What a situation to be in… It would be a lie to say he wanted to leave that embrace, but to allow it to last even longer than that—and with those unspeakable thoughts still swirling in his mind—would also mean taking advantage of a drunken man. So, he once again tried to move him away, using more strength. It worked, but the disappointed sound that came with it made him feel like a villain.
“Apprentice…” He sighed, unsure of what to say. “You seem to be more drunk than I initially thought. It might be best for you to sleep for the night. I will accompany you to your bedroom.”
The apprentice nodded quietly. He took a step forward, only to immediately lose his balance, dizzy from the alcohol. Barok caught him before he fell, holding him by the shoulders. That man wasn’t getting near the stairs in that state… Perhaps after some water, but not without Barok close by his side.
“Your tolerance for alcohol is surprisingly low.” He guided that man to the couch. “Come… You should sit for a moment.”
With his apprentice sitting and no longer in danger of falling, Barok spoke again. “How are you feeling? Any sickness or—”
His words were interrupted when the apprentice fell back on the couch, pulling Barok along by the front of his shirt. Barok managed to hold onto the backrest so his weight wasn’t fully on that man, but the position was still awkward. Before he could stand again, the apprentice raised his hand, bringing it to Barok’s chin, gently holding it with a smile.
“What are you…?”
“You are such a beautiful man…” the apprentice murmured. “Strong as a sailor, but handsome like the prince from a book. Looking at you is enough to erase all thoughts from my head.”
Those words paralyzed Barok’s body and mind. “Apprentice…?”
“You are beautiful…” he continued. “And you are kind… They call you the Reaper, but there is nothing monstrous about you. Nothing at all.”
“I… appreciate the thought. But I must—”
“Are you even aware that you are the best thing in my entire life?” The apprentice placed his arms around his neck, locking him in place. “I was nothing before I met you. I didn’t even think I could feel anything… But since you took me in, I feel so many different things… Sometimes, it all seem like more than I can carry inside my chest.”
A feeling so familiar it sent a shiver down Barok’s spine. The apprentice soon continued.
“I want to be with you. I want to look at your face and hear your voice… I want to feel your warmth. I want to keep you safe from anyone who may harm you. I want to silence every single person who speaks ill of you. And I…” He paused, bringing one hand to Barok’s cheek. “I want to see your smile.”
His words caught Barok off guard. “My…?”
The apprentice slid his hand toward his mouth, caressing his lower lip with his thumb. “If I stay by your side, will you show it to me someday?”
That wasn’t good… He was reaching his limits quite fast. Barok inhaled sharply; gathering all his mental strength, he moved his apprentice’s hands away, freeing himself from that embrace, standing from the couch.
“Please, stop this,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re saying… Your senses have been altered by the wine.”
“But my feelings are still the same.” The apprentice sat up, looking at him. “Lord van Zieks… There are many things I don’t know about myself, but I know what I feel for you, and it’s—”
“Stop!” Barok interrupted him. “Don’t say something like this. You drank too much. You’re not… thinking properly.”
“I’m telling you, this doesn’t change how I feel,” the apprentice insisted. “If there is no difference, then is me voicing these feelings while drunk really such a problem?”
“To me, it is.”
The apprentice went silent, lowering his head as if Barok had scolded him.
“My apologies, then,” he said in a low voice.
Barok observed him for a moment. He hated seeing him look that disheartened, but also knew that putting a stop to that situation before it got out of control was for the best.
“Wait here,” he said in a softer voice. “I will bring you some water.”
The apprentice nodded, and soon Barok returned to him with a glass of water. He drank it, then Barok helped him stand, carefully guiding him to his bedroom, helping him lie down comfortably in his bed. While he adjusted the covers over him, however, his apprentice touched his hand.
“Are you angry at me?”
“I’m not,” said Barok. “I’m only angry at myself for allowing you to get in this state while in my presence.”
“Don’t be.” He hesitated briefly. “I’m glad you didn’t stop me…”
“Why would you be?”
“Because it gave me courage to tell you what I wanted for so long.” He caressed Barok’s hand. “You truly are lovely, Lord van Zieks… And your embrace is so warm, just like everything about you.”
Barok turned his gaze away. “You cannot mean this.”
“It is true. Of all men I have seen before, both while at sea and in this land, you are by far the most handsome and kind one. And the more time we spend together, the more certain I am that I never want to be far from you.”
“Don’t say things like this while drunk.”
“The only reason why I can say it is because I’m drunk. Otherwise, I would be far too scared of pushing you away.”
Something shifted inside Barok’s chest, a mixture of joy, fear, and nervousness.
“Is this how you truly feel?”
The apprentice nodded. “You are everything to me, Lord van Zieks.”
He squeezed Barok’s hand before letting go, going silent as his body relaxed. Barok carefully reached for that mask, removing it, revealing the face underneath. It wasn’t the first time Barok saw it, but it still caused him conflicting feelings. He knew his apprentice was Nipponese, and in many ways he reminded Barok of that man he so deeply loathed. Yet, Barok couldn’t bring himself to hate him; if anything, looking at his uncovered and peaceful face only made those sweet feelings inside him grow stronger.
He lightly touched his hair, and his apprentice opened his eyes again, seeming so sleepy that Barok imagined his consciousness was only half-present.
“Lord van Zieks…”
Hearing him say his name while looking at his uncovered face was almost too much. Barok moved his hand away, standing up. “Forgive me, I will allow you to sleep now.”
“Wait…”
Barok stopped in place, then looked at him, waiting for him to speak, while nervous about what he would hear.
“It may not sound like much coming from someone who can’t ever remember his own name,” he said. “But I never felt happiness before I met you. And now… despite everything, every day is so good I’m not even sure I want to remember at all. Not if it means losing what I have now.”
A long, slightly hesitant pause.
“I love you, Lord van Zieks. I truly love you.”
He said it so honestly that Barok almost found himself believing those words.
“We can talk about this later,” he said instead. “You should rest for tonight.”
And then, after a second of consideration, he added.
“Sleep well.”
His apprentice smiled. “You too.”
Barok walked away, returning to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. That man’s words of affection returned to his mind, making his heart pound so violently it left him lightheaded. He covered his mouth with a hand, struggling to calm himself down—only for that man’s sweet smile to return to his mind, ruining his efforts.
“You only cause me trouble, don’t you?”
That was a lie. Ever since that man entered his life, everything changed for the better. He was a reliable apprentice, a good friend, and someone Barok came to treasure above all else. And that was why he was so afraid of losing him. Harming him would be much worse than any deadly wound on his own body—something for which he would never be able to forgive himself.
However, if being with him was what that man truly wanted, then…
Barok shut his eyes, trying to get rid of those thoughts. As soon as he lay down in bed, he already knew he wouldn’t sleep for a single minute that night.
When morning came without a trace of his apprentice in sight, Barok went to his bedroom, knocking on the door.
“Apprentice? Are you awake?”
No response. He opened the door, walking inside to see that man still deeply asleep. Barok approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, lightly shaking it.
“Wake up…” he called. “It is morning already.”
The apprentice groaned, then opened his eyes, following Barok’s voice. “Lord van Zieks…”
“It is time to wake up.”
His apprentice looked at him, seeming lost; he glanced toward the window, and the thin rays of light coming through the gaps in the wood finally made him understand what Barok meant.
“Ah…” He sat up. “I didn’t realize.”
“It is fine,” Barok reassured him. “I expected as much, considering how drunk you were last night. Though, I must admit, I hadn’t imagined your tolerance for alcohol would be that low.”
A veil of embarrassment covered his apprentice’s face. “Me neither…” He went silent, thinking before looking at Barok again. “Lord van Zieks… Did I say anything strange yesterday?”
Barok’s heart jumped. “Why the question?”
“I think I had a dream.”
“An unpleasant one?”
“No… Quite the opposite.” He showed a slightly disappointed smile. “It’s a shame it wasn’t true, though.”
Maybe it would be for the best to let him believe it had been nothing but a dream. But looking at his disappointed face, hope once again grew in Barok’s chest against his will. His fears tried to stop him, but that brighter, warmer feeling was much stronger and led him to speak again.
“You did say something last night.”
The apprentice averted his gaze. “Nothing unpleasant, I hope…”
“Not in the least.” Barok paused, considering that final chance to step back for just a second. “But you declared your love for me.”
The apprentice stared at him, shock turning into disbelief, and then into panic.
“I didn’t…” He stopped, bringing a hand to his mouth. “No, I… It was true, wasn’t it? Not just a…” He shut his eyes, as if the memory itself stung him. “I deeply apologize.”
Barok shook his head. “It was the alcohol speaking, not you.” He hesitated briefly before adding. “Or am I wrong to assume so?”
Instead of answering, his apprentice glanced around the room, reaching for his mask over the bedside table; he grabbed it, putting it on, saying nothing else. The silence between them was even heavier than the day they met… It made Barok so nervous he started to feel sick.
“I would appreciate a response,” he said.
“You can either have my silence or a lie, because I can’t give an honest answer.”
“And why is that?”
Again, no response. Barok sighed: he was the one who started it, so perhaps it was fair that he was the one to speak first. He sat at the border of the mattress, close to his apprentice, looking at him.
“I shall be the one to say something to you, then,” he said. “Yesterday, it was quite difficult for me not to respond to your advances. This is not something a mentor should say, but I hoped it was more than a result of your altered state.”
He knew he should say more, but the words refused to come. Yet, it was enough for his apprentice to look at him, mouth open in surprise.
“Lord van Zieks… Do you have feelings for me?”
Despite all his difficulties, the response easily left Barok’s mouth. “I do.”
“Then…”
“Yes?”
With a bright smile, his apprentice removed his mask once again. “You can have your answer, after all.”
Before Barok could say another word, the apprentice leaned forward, hugging Barok’s neck and kissing his lips. It took his surprised mind a moment to catch up, but as soon as it did, Barok returned both the embrace and kiss, glad that, for once, his fears hadn’t been enough to stop him.
Three years later, that memory still made Barok’s heart soar. It almost didn’t feel real, as if he had dreamed that event after reading one of his favorite romance novels.
Yet, it took a single glance at the man on the opposite side of the office for him to know it had all been real. That first confession while he was drunk, and also the second one, when they were both in tears; everything that followed, sweet and painful alike; that tortuous and confusing road that, little by little, became not only easier, but delightful to walk on. All of it was real.
As if noticing his gaze, Kazuma looked at him, an amused smile soon blooming on his lips.
“You look quite pleased, my dear prosecutor,” he said. “May I ask you why?”
Whatever Kazuma had imagined, Barok doubted it was even close to the truth. He shook his head before responding.
“I simply remembered the day my inebriated apprentice so passionately confessed his love for me.”
The effect was immediate: Kazuma’s smile faded, his face covered by a red color, his confidence replaced by embarrassment. A rare expression, but mentioning that day never failed to summon it.
“Can’t you just forget about that day?” he grumbled, looking away.
“No.”
His simple response only added to Kazuma’s frustration. He glared at Barok, hiding his embarrassment behind a mask of fury.
“Prosecutor Barok van Zieks, you are the most horrible man I know.”
“Is that so?” asked Barok half-heartedly.
“Yes, you are!” Kazuma pointed his finger at him. “You keep treating me like this, bringing back things from so long ago for no reason… Honestly, I don’t know why I keep enduring this kind of disrespect.”
“My deepest apologies.”
“You don’t even mean that!” Kazuma grunted, looking away. “But fine, keep acting this way… One day, I’ll finally get tired of it and leave!”
Barok observed him, holding back a small laugh. Seeing such a strong and competent man reduced to a blushing mess would never fail to amuse him—and it was fair, considering all the times Kazuma had done the same to him. Without a word, Barok stood from his chair, walking toward his apprentice.
“Kazuma…”
“What?”
Not discouraged by the venomous response, Barok crouched by his side, gently pushing his hair back to kiss his forehead.
“You understand that these reactions are the reason why I want to tease you, don’t you?” he asked.
As he thought, the gesture calmed Kazuma down, the aggressive embarrassment now nothing but a slight flush on his face.
“Can you even blame me for it?” he muttered.
“I don’t. And I hope this will never change.”
Kazuma narrowed his eyes at him. “And you say I am the troublesome one…”
He sighed loudly, but soon his expression softened again.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter.” He brought a hand to Barok’s face, lightly caressing the corner of his lips. “If thinking about me makes you smile like this, then I’m not truly opposed to it.”
Once again, Kazuma mentioned his smile… He had once said he wished to see it more often, and yet, didn’t seem to realize it was because of him that Barok relearned to do it wholeheartedly. If he hadn’t met Kazuma, perhaps he would still be that lonely and bitter man from years before, dragging himself through life one chalice at a time, while waiting for the end to come. So different from his current self, who had so many reasons to live that the very thought of death frightened him.
And all because one man decided that he was worth the effort—that, despite all his flaws, he deserved that kind of happiness.
“Do you like my smile that much?”
He didn’t mean to ask that out loud, and his words brought a devious grin to Kazuma’s lips.
“Do you want me to show you how much, my lord?”
“Not during work hours, if at all possible.”
“Fine… I’ll hold back for now.”
With a small, mischievous laugh, Kazuma cupped Barok’s face with both hands, just looking at him for a moment.
“But I can’t deny it… I meant every single word I said to you that day.”
Barok didn’t doubt it—after all that time, Kazuma had proven his love to him in more ways than he could count. But it was always pleasant to hear such a confirmation.
“In this case,” said Barok, “would you say those words again?”
“No, you don’t deserve it.”
“As I expected…”
His defeated tone seemed enough to appease Kazuma, who leaned forward to kiss his lips.
“I love you, Barok van Zieks,” he said. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
Barok hid his joy with a tired sigh. “You could have said it from the beginning.”
“Keep complaining, and I’ll take it back.”
“I’m afraid it is too late for regrets.”
This time, Barok didn’t wait for Kazuma to act, pulling him into another kiss. That kind of playful dance had become common between them; the fondness, the passion, the care, they were all still the same, but the shapes they took were varied, sometimes even unusual—but never unpleasant.
Barok’s nameless apprentice hadn’t been as complicated as that man he held in his arms; he wasn’t as loud, as proud, or as troublesome as him. And yet, Barok loved Kazuma Asogi the most when he was like that: no masks and no walls left between the two of them, their souls laid bare, their hearts in each other’s hands. Sometimes, it meant arguing, and others, it meant unwillingly hurting each other in their attempts to meet halfway.
But, above all else, it meant sharing a bond so strong that neither men nor fate could hope to break. And, if some teasing and complaints were the price of true happiness, then he would gladly pay it for the rest of his days.