"Aaah!" Takata Kate stretched at her desk near Saguru's, tilting back her chair to maximize her stretch. "Breaks are wonderful, but Golden Week is always so busy!" she said settling back into her chair. She swiveled to smile at Saguru. "So, how was your Golden Week?"

Of all his coworkers, Takata had been more persistent in her attempts at friendship. It was appreciated even if Saguru hadn't shown the same interest in friendship in return. "It was pleasant," Saguru said, straightening folders and notes. Completed reports from his home visits were to one side and graded papers were neatly stacked next to them, far more orderly than most of the desks in the room. "I visited my parents for part of it, and caught up on sleep for the rest."

Takata laughed. "I feel that. Your parents live close?"

"Not far," Saguru agreed. "Although it is simpler to take a car than to attempt to walk these days."

He could see Takata's eyes flick to his cane, but she was too polite to comment on it. Instead she draped an arm over the back of her chair and leaned comfortably against it. "I wish it was easier to visit my parents," she said. "It's a lot harder to go halfway around the world though."

Saguru nodded, knowing that feeling well. "And jet lag is terrible. You visit them often?"

"I try to visit them once a year," she said, "but that's not always possible, and they can't always visit me."

"Thank goodness for technology to keep in touch."

She laughed agreeably and glanced over her shoulder to where her husband was talking to a few other teachers. "That definitely helps. Thankfully Katsuya's family is nearby. They've been wonderful in-laws."

"That's fortunate," Saguru said, thinking of the challenges his parents had faced initially with their families, though both sets of grandparents had mellowed by the time Saguru was born. His own experience with in-laws had not been favorable either, he supposed.

"It is." She smiled. "Well, back to work. Congratulations on living through your first year of home visits. You should come out sometime for drinks after midterms."

"I don't drink," Saguru said, but he smiled all the same. "But perhaps I will join you after midterms all the same."

Takata didn't say anything about him not drinking, which considering how alcohol was used as a social bonding tool in Japan even more than it was in England, was a relief. Instead she grinned at the first concession Saguru had given to her friendly overtures. "Great! It'll be good to have you along."

Privately, Saguru thought that the experience would only reveal how his coworkers acted while drunk—and potentially give him far more intimate knowledge and hypothetical blackmail material than most of his coworkers would be comfortable with someone having, but he supposed there was nothing wrong with making efforts to become closer to them. He might not have decided if he would keep this job beyond the year, but there was nothing wrong with making connections while he was here.

Takata glanced over his shoulder out the window. "And there come the students," she said. She swiveled back to her desk to grab one of her haphazard piles. "Back to work." She paused as she started to stand up. "Are things going better with your students?"

Saguru reflected on how the three strike system had in fact reduced some of the issues he had been dealing with and how Takumi hadn't pulled anything big or even mildly disruptive since home visits had started. "I suppose they have been," he said. "Hopefully it continues."

"Yeah." She smiled. "Glad to hear it." She stood up, walking to join her husband for a few minutes before they had to be at their assigned classrooms.

Saguru looked after her before turning back to his notes. He also hoped things with Takumi would go more smoothly. He wouldn't bet on it of course—the practice Takumi had gotten over Golden Week and his interest in Saguru's life certainly didn't indicate that a lack of pranks in his future. Still, Saguru would be prepared either way. His briefcase held a change of clothing, wipes, and a few other small things in case he was targeted specifically. If not, he could always have Takumi clean any mess he made. It was forever a relief that Takumi didn't share Kuroba's grand scale of dramatics.

As Saguru took role call at the start of the day, he felt Takumi's eyes on him. Something had changed over Golden Week. Saguru wasn't sure what, but there was something considering in Takumi's eyes rather than challenging. He braced for a prank regardless as homeroom slid seamlessly into his first English class of the day.

None came, not when he returned tests, nor when he moved into his review lesson with sentence diagrams to cement the concepts that had proven to be poorly retained. It didn't come when Saguru had various class members—Takumi included—come up with sentences using the proper subject and object placement. It didn't come when he assigned that day's homework, and Saguru wondered if he had guessed wrong, that Takumi hadn't practiced over the break with the intention of using those skills in Saguru's class at all.

Throughout the class, Takumi had never stopped watching Saguru, though, and as Saguru walked to his next class, he had to wonder what sort of change this meant, for better or worse. It didn't seem to be hostile, though.

Saguru would have to hope it would work out.

Saguru was packing away his bentou, idly planning out his weekend, when he felt eyes on him. He looked up to find Takumi at the edge of his desk, frown cemented on his face. Saguru wasn't sure how long he had been standing there.

Takumi hadn't said anything in class that morning, or during the morning homeroom. In fact, it was the first day since Golden Week that Takumi hadn't stared Saguru down, instead spending the time before homeroom talking to friends and surreptitiously passing a few notes once the school day had started. A glance showed the other teachers in the room either engaged in their own work, conversing, or talking to students who had sought them out. Saguru set aside his lunch and the half-graded pile of papers to give him his full attention.

"Kuroba-kun. How can I help you?"

Takumi's frown smoothed into a blank mask that Saguru associated with Kuroba and avoidance. "You knew my parents," Takumi said. It wasn't a question. It was a blunt statement of fact that had some underlying tension Saguru was missing. Takumi's body language gave nothing away. He'd learned an impressive poker face from Kuroba, but he hadn't mastered the relaxed confidence Kuroba had had yet. He had mastered blank, but he hadn't mastered nonchalant.

Saguru shifted into a better position for his bad leg, leaning forward. Takumi's eyes flicked to it then back to Saguru's face. Saguru met his eyes. In the West it would have been respectful. In Japan it was more of a challenge. Takumi didn't look away, rudely staring right back. "We went to high school together for a few years," Saguru said. "I would not have called us friends exactly, but we were close acquaintances, or perhaps rivals of a sort in your father's case." It hadn't been a proper rivalry even.

"You hit on my mom."

Saguru raised an eyebrow. Had Aoko told him about that or Kuroba? That was an accusatory tone slipping past the impassive mask. "To be fair, I was much younger and attempting to get a rise out of your father."

Takumi's face twitched. He opened his mouth and seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say, glancing around and taking note of the other teachers in the room. He squared his shoulders. "What were they like? In high school?"

Ah. The pieces clicked together. He probably only had memories of his parents fighting. He probably grew up wondering if his parents ever got along, a bit like how as a child Saguru wondered what his parents would have been like if they lived on the same side of the globe. How much would Kuroba or Aoko ever talk about their shared past if they were always avoiding or arguing with each other? "Lively," Saguru said, his first impressions of the Ekoda High class coming to mind. "Loud. They were always bickering and chasing each other around like mop fighting and skirt flipping was a bizarre courtship ritual."

Takumi's eyebrows scrunched together. He looked more like Aoko than Kuroba then. It was an Aoko-expression on his face, the one she had had when she was confused about Kuroba's actions or a particularly hard homework problem.

"If you would like to talk in the future about your parents, I am willing to share my memories," Saguru said, holding out the promise as a peace offering. They had gotten off to a bad start. He had no desire to continue any tension between them. "However, now would not be the best time. The lunch period is almost over." He could see on Takumi's face the thought that he knew where Saguru lived. No, it wouldn't be hard to track Saguru down.

"My mom said you were a world famous detective once," Takumi said looking pensive, the same faraway, inward focused expression as earlier in the week. "That you challenged Kaitou Kid."

"I was," Saguru said, "but that isn't really important anymore." He didn't want to go into it, especially not if it led to personal questions about why he wasn't one now. If Takumi wanted to know about his life as a high school detective and how it fit in with his parents, Saguru could talk about it some other time. "Now," he said changing the topic, "is this what all the pranking has been about?"

Takumi went pink with embarrassment. His fingers picked at the cuffs on his uniform as he suddenly was looking anywhere but at Saguru. "I... It's not fair. That... They never talk about it. Before." Saguru raised an eyebrow as Takumi stutteringly pieced words together. "Kaa-san and Tou-san." He met Saguru's eyes briefly. "They don't talk about the past or what they were like or how they fell in love, none of that. They just argue and pretend they don't care on the good days and fight on the bad ones, and I don't even know what they ever saw in each other! You knew them though. You know what they were like and it's...it's not fair."

Saguru was sympathetic, but that didn't make Takumi's lashing out at him any less a problem. He sighed. "You realize that it's not my fault your parents don't talk about it." Takumi's shoulders twitched up, chastised. Saguru took pity. "Look, I'm willing to share what I know about them if that helps. But in exchange I would appreciate keeping pranks to a minimum, and not having them targeting me."

"I...can do that," Takumi mumbled. "Um. You're not asking me to stop completely?"

Saguru shrugged. "I can overlook some antics provided it doesn't disrupt class or harm anything. Don't make it a habit though."

"Oh." Takumi smiled, a little surprised like he couldn't believe he wasn't getting yelled at about it. "It's actually been kind of...fun? Uh, don't tell my parents that though."

"Because your mother would be angry."

"Er..."

"And Kuroba would encourage you." Saguru shook his head. "If you disrupt anything, you'll have a mark in the book."

"Right, of course." Takumi straightened up.

Saguru offered him a smile. "You know, you're quite skilled at sleight of hand."

"I'm not...I'm not that good. Compared to Tou-san..."

"Is on a different level than most people," Saguru agreed.

"You're not angry about the pranks?"

Saguru snorted. "Honestly, when I found out I had a Kuroba in my class, I was expecting a good deal worse than some glue, confetti, and removing a bit of makeup."

"But..." He fidgeted as the first bell rang in the hall. "I humiliated you."

Saguru snorted again. "If you think that is humiliating, you should try attending your average Kid heist. In the ones I attended, I ended up unconscious and stripped multiple times, tied up in compromising positions, and once, memorably, forced into a rather skimpy dress." It was a hard task to keep a straight face with how Takumi's eyes got larger and larger. "I imagine you're sick of hearing about Kid from your mother though." Saguru levered himself to his feet, snagging his cane from beside his desk. Saguru nodded toward the hall where teachers and students alike were hurrying back to their rooms for class. "Let's not be late, yes?"

There was still a bit of wariness in Takumi, but Saguru thought they might have a chance of getting along now. And if his instincts were right... Saguru bumped Takumi as they turned to go separate ways, the perfect opportunity to slip a trick pen into Takumi's pocket. (Let it be known that Saguru had learned some tricks over the years). He watched from the corner of his eye as Takumi found the pen a few steps later, pulling it free with a puzzled expression. He went to click it and jumped, the light shock no doubt surprising him.

"Sensei...?" he called after Saguru. Saguru glanced back and gave Takumi a smile and a slow, conspiratorial wink. Before continuing on. Behind him, he heard Takumi burst into surprised laughter.

Yes, they were probably going to get along fine.

He walked to his next class with a lighter step and the thought that Mel would have approved.

That weekend, a few dozen photos from the shoebox were placed in a cheap album. Not quite the album Mel and Saguru always planned to put together, but as a remembrance... It was a year since Mel died and it still hurt. But the photos Saguru chose were all ones with his happiest memories caught in them. They were what they'd had, and losing Mel didn't mean those things hadn't happened. There was a peace in accepting that. At the end of the album, Saguru wrote a letter of what he'd say if he had the chance to say all the things he'd felt in the last year. By the end of it, he thought he might just be okay.

Omake

In the two months that Saguru had been teaching, he still wasn't sure what to make of the literature club. They met weekly, and as the club advisor, he found himself meeting with them although he had been told by Momoi that he needn't bother to meet unless they were discussing an English novel that week. Call it curiosity or lingering remnants of his detective's desire to understand what confused him, but whatever the cause, Saguru continued to attend the meetings after the first one, if in part only to see Momoi and Takumi interact. Whether or not he read all the books was a different matter, in part due to how much free time he had (which truly could only have been an excuse during the home visits) and his interest in whatever was being read (a much more accurate measure for why he did or did not read one of the chosen novels in its entirety).

Saguru tapped the spine of the Mishima Yukio novel that one of the members had insisted on at the last meeting. Confessions of a Mask was one that he had not finished due to the themes leaving him unsettled. While Saguru had read some of Mishima's short stories in high school, he hadn't quite been prepared for the intermingling themes of double-lives, death, violence, and homosexuality.

The club members each had their own copy of the novel, though only Honda Jirou, who had requested the book, and one other member looked particularly enthusiastic to be discussing it. There was a conspicuous absence among the members as well.

"Takumi's late," Momoi grumbled. She glanced at Saguru as if he might know the reason, or perhaps wondering if he was the cause of it. Saguru kept his expression politely neutral.

"He had to talk to the lacrosse coach," another member offered.

Momoi rolled her eyes. "The whole point of moving these meeting to Thursdays was so he could attend them," she said. With another sigh, she waved her hand, calling the meeting to order more effectively than some police officers Saguru knew could do without a single word. "So. This week we have Confessions of a Mask by Mishima Yukio. Opinions?"

"I thought that the conflict of internal desires in contrast to the outward actions in the book—"

"Anyone besides Jirou?" Momoi cut in, leaving Honda with his mouth open and a disgruntled expression. "Relax, Jirou, you can talk all you want about it in a minute." She glanced around and no one seemed to want to go first. "Okay, so how many of you opened the book?" All but one hand went up, Saguru's included. "And how many of you finished it?" Only four hands remained. Across the table, Jirou looked disappointed. "Yeah, that's what I thought. No offense Jirou, but I don't think most of the club shares your enthusiasm for Mishima's works."

Jirou sighed. "I'll convert one of you eventually."

"Mm hmm." Momoi rounded on Saguru. "Have to say I'm surprised you didn't finish it. I half expected you to come in with an in depth analysis like you did with The Picture of Dorian Gray." She said it like a challenge and Saguru was still trying to figure out if she genuinely disliked him or if it was some sort of test of boundaries. Granted it could just be her personality to meet everyone and anyone head on directly regardless of their position of authority. Dorian Gray had been her idea for the last English novel, not Saguru's regardless. "There's some thematic overlaps."

Beyond the shared theme of duplicity and the homosexual undertones in Dorian Gray set alongside the much more overt themes in Confessions, Saguru didn't really see it. Unless she was trying to imply something by specifically connecting him to both books. He narrowed his eyes, but Momoi didn't look like she was going for an accusation. "I suppose there are some similarities," Saguru allowed, "but there is a very big gap between Dorian's embracing hedonism and Kochan's continual self-deception and rejection of his preferences. To be honest, I preferred the tone of Dorian Gray despite his unapologetic darkness."

"Hmm," Momoi hummed. "Well, your pick is next, and we all know you're going with Hound of the Baskervilles."

The game of poker the first club meeting had been to decide who got to choose what first based around winning hands. Every losing hand had required one of the books on their list crossed off. It had taken quite a few turns for Saguru to win a hand. Momoi had won the majority of them, though eventually every member had one at least one hand. It had worked out a bit too well and the only conclusion Saguru could draw was that Momoi was one hell of a card sharp.

"Oh, right, Sensei is a Holmes fan," Watanabe Emi chirped. "Ne, Sensei, what's your opinion on the recent films and TV programs?"

"A lot of them fail to capture Holmes' character, and do even worse for Watson," Saguru said drily. "Although I believe Irene Adler has gotten the brunt of misinterpretations, chiefly in how she interacts with Holmes."

"So you're not for a dominatrix Irene Adler?" Momoi asked, derailed from the meeting's point with curiosity.

"That isn't my direct issue with her character interpretation. The issue is that Irene is not and never was interested in Holmes, nor he interested in her. Adler's actions were motivated by a desire to be with her fiancé and to keep her past lover from ruining her life."

"We're not here to talk about whether Irene Adler should be a dominatrix," Honda cut in, "we're here to talk about how Kochan's repressed homosexual desire drives the conflict in Confessions!"

The door to the classroom they used for club meetings slid open. Takumi observed them with a pinched expression. "Do I want to know?" he asked, glancing at Momoi.

Momoi grinned. "Just in time to listen to Jirou deconstruct Mishima's Confessions of a Mask. Take a seat."

Takumi glanced at the rest of the club members, some of whom were laughing quietly, Honda Jirou, who looked irritated, and lastly at Saguru. Saguru lifted an eyebrow. Takumi raised one back. "Okay. Sorry for being late. Book on double lives and a guy trying to feel something he can't?"

"Thank you," Honda muttered. "As I was saying…"

Saguru found himself tuning out Honda's impassioned analysis of his favorite author's debut novel. It wasn't that he was uninterested in what Honda had drawn from it, or what logic he'd used in making his connections; Saguru would have liked to have seen the essay Honda could no doubt write on the subject. The issue was, at one point he had been someone who felt out of place and had tried to be someone he wasn't to fit in, and while that had been a very brief period of his life and nothing like the main character's emotional reactions to these problems, the topic still struck a bit too closely for Saguru's comfort.

The literature club was an interesting mix of people though, Saguru thought as bit by bit, other members started to add opinions and thoughts to build off Honda's words. They had a range of interests and motivations for joining the club. Takumi was the only one in another after school activity as well, though he seemed to have joined the literature club for Momoi than anything else.

And Momoi… She kept glancing at Saguru and he wasn't sure what was on her mind. She was in the club because she truly enjoyed a range of literature from what he could tell. Perhaps also because it gave her a space she could control as its de facto leader.

They were an interesting bunch and it was a way to pass one afternoon a week in some sort of human interaction, so Saguru couldn't complain.

And next week he could discuss his favorite novel after introducing it to another generation of readers. What was there to dislike about that?