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Chapter 5

(In which van Zieks meets with the German ambassador and Kazuma comes out the loser.)

"I'm telling you, I think she likes you even better than she likes me, and it's rather unfair when I'm there far more often and am obviously far nicer than you," Kazuma said after he and van Zieks had bid their goodbyes to Iris and Sholmes and started down the darkened street, sticking to the dim yellow circles of light cast by the streetlamps when they could. Dinner had run late tonight.

Van Zieks still accepted only one out of every three invitations, but Iris's face always lit up when he did, and he was slowly becoming a more regular visitor at Baker Street. The changes were subtle, but although he was still often painfully awkward or stiff, he seemed to be loosening up just a little around his niece. Kazuma thought his overall disposition might be improved as well, that perhaps his patience lasted a little longer than before and he wasn't quite as quick to snap when something displeased him. Maybe Iris would prove to be a civilizing influence on him.

But for now, van Zieks only sniffed disdainfully. "Don't be ridiculous. She seems rather fond of you for some reason. I'm not sure how you've hoodwinked her. I expect my novelty will wear off soon enough."

Kazuma glanced at him sidelong, considering. For all his powers of observation, van Zieks seemed to have a stubborn blind spot where his niece was concerned.

"I'll have you know that I've been told I inspire fondness in all but the coldest of hearts," Kazuma said.

"No one ever said such a thing to you."

"Ryunosuke did."

Van Zieks's brows drew together in consideration. "Mr. Naruhodo once told me that he thought I was secretly a compassionate and honorable man and insisted on defending me to prove it, so perhaps you should take his overly positive judgments with a grain of salt."

Kazuma shot a look at him. Van Zieks was in an uncommonly good mood, undoubtedly a holdover from the visit with Iris, and his banter lacked its usual sharp edges. He seemed more relaxed than anything, perhaps a touch amused. His tone was light despite his words, and the bickering felt almost companionable.

But it also sounded like he meant what he said, even if he was largely unbothered by the implications.

"Ryunosuke's judgment is always sound," Kazuma said sharply. "Has he not proven it time and time again? Perhaps you should take it more seriously."

"Ah, my apologies. It was not my intention to insult him. He has proven himself remarkably insightful and principled in the courtroom."

Kazuma blew out a breath as they turned a corner. He didn't think van Zieks had intended to insult Ryunosuke at all. It had been more of a self-deprecating insult. He supposed it wasn't his place to push the point. He and van Zieks got along considerably better than they had a few months ago, but they still avoided delving too deeply into each other's personal affairs.

"I don't know if Iris mentioned it to you yet, but she's planning another party," he said abruptly.

"A party? For what?"

"For Wagahai's birthday, I believe."

Van Zieks fixed Kazuma with a look of utter disbelief, his features dappled with moonlight and shadow. "A birthday party for the cat?"

"She does love looking for any reason to throw a party. Don't be so cynical—I see how you feed that cat extra treats and pet her when you think no one is looking. It's as bad as with the bats."

Van Zieks scowled. "As she is Miss Iris's beloved pet, it is only respectful that I should–"

"Oh, please. You're soft for animals. Admit it."

"I will do no such thing."

Kazuma laughed and pulled his coat tighter around himself as a chilly night breeze blew past. He had come to the conclusion that van Zieks was purposely maintaining his old reputation despite his acquittal. If only everyone knew that the cold-hearted Reaper of the Bailey had a soft spot for animals and secret nieces. Some of the more considerate lessons he taught his hard-headed apprentice might come as a surprise too. Van Zieks was not the nicest of men, but he was no soulless Reaper either.

"Honestly," Kazuma said, "it's probably an excuse to make you visit again. You might be able to beg off a normal dinner, but it would be far more discourteous to turn down an invitation to a proper party."

"I think she is just exceedingly fond of her cat."

Kazuma raised his eyebrows. "Do you think she suspects? She's always asking about you."

Van Zieks looked up at the moon waxing full above them as if it might hold the answers, a troubled frown drawing his face back into careworn creases.

"I hope not," he said tiredly. "That would be a difficult burden to bear."

Kazuma wondered which burden he meant. Did he worry how Iris would shoulder the same burden he already bore, of knowing they were related to a serial killer once lauded as the most honorable of men? Or the burden of knowing that she was related to a man like van Zieks, that the family she had dreamed of for so long boiled down, in the end, to someone like him? It really did not seem to occur to van Zieks that despite his mistakes and discourtesies and difficult personality, Iris seemed determined to like him anyway. Or maybe he only thought that she was wrong to do so. He couldn't possibly be so blind to miss that she had been reaching out to him over and over again, trying to be friends if not family.

"You know, I think–"

Kazuma broke off with a startled yelp as something bumped him hard from behind, sending him stumbling. By the time he'd regained his feet and turned, a dark shadow had already descended on van Zieks, slamming into him from behind, silver glinting in the moonlight. A sharp gasp pierced the night as van Zieks lurched forward an unsteady step at the impact, but he made no other sound.

Kazuma cursed and yanked his sword from its sheath. He had been so careless. He knew enough to pay attention when walking the streets, particularly when at his mentor's side, and van Zieks was always on high alert and noticed suspicious activity right away. But they had been distracted—by the warmth of dinner with Iris and Sholmes, maybe, or by each other and their conversation. They had grown complacent, soft, as if they'd forgotten, in their moment of camaraderie, that they were still hunted men. That van Zieks, in particular, was still hunted even though he'd been officially cleared of the Reaper's crimes. It was a bad mistake.

Kazuma lunged forward, and the violent clatter of steel against steel shattered the quiet as he met the attacker's blow with his own sword. He struck back hard, fast, seething with anger at his carelessness and this man's cowardice in striking an unaware opponent from behind. They exchanged maybe half a dozen blows before Kazuma twisted the blade from the other man's hand. He darted forward even before the sword clattered to the ground, remembering all of van Zieks's lessons about seeing a fight through to the end.

He didn't even see it coming.

A deafening shot rang through the air, echoing off the streets, and pain exploded through his chest. He couldn't tell if he screamed or only gasped, the cry sticking in his throat. His sword fell from nerveless fingers, and he brought a hand to his chest slowly, wonderingly. It felt hot and wet and painful. Everything seemed fuzzy and far away, a muffled roaring in his ears as he watched the red drip through his fingers. His knees buckled as his vision grayed out.

"Mr. Asogi!"

Kazuma blinked his eyes back open. Van Zieks's face hovered above him, shining pale like bone in the dark. His icy eyes looked too big in his face, glittering in the moonlight.

What was he doing? Wasn't there…? A man? A man who had literally stabbed him in the back? What was he doing leaning over Kazuma instead of fighting?

Kazuma wondered vaguely if he'd passed out and missed the fight, or if perhaps he'd only imagined the whole thing. But there was a sharp pain radiating from his chest, even if he mostly felt heavy and very, very cold.

"Mr. Asogi!" van Zieks said again. "Are you with me? I need you to stay awake."

Oh… It was worry making his eyes appear so large and shining, folding his face into troubled creases. That didn't bode well. He hadn't looked concerned in the slightest when Kazuma had taken that gash to the arm all those weeks ago. Kazuma wondered how bad the wound was this time, to have lined his face with something so close to fear.

"What happened?" he croaked, or tried to. His throat felt like sandpaper, his mouth like cotton. His tongue was so heavy and unwieldy that he couldn't tell if it was forming the words, and his hearing was so muffled that he couldn't tell if they sounded right at all.

Van Zieks said something else, but the words slid together and Kazuma could only make out a handful of them. He rolled his gaze down, looking for the source of the pain. Van Zieks had a hand pressed to Kazuma's chest, holding a thick wad of fabric in place that might have been his cloak. His glove, which should have glowed white in the moonlight, appeared dark and shadowed.

Kazuma started as something touched his face, cool fabric sliding along his cheek and cradling it. He forced himself to look back up at van Zieks, whose visage seemed to waver doubled and blurry above him.

"…to the hospital," van Zieks was saying. "I'm going to have to lift you. Try to stay awake."

Kazuma hardly had time to register the words before van Zieks was moving, shifting. The next thing he knew, he was being heaved upwards. He sucked in a breath as pain seared through his veins and stars exploded before his eyes. He staggered, buckling, and his vision went black.

Something was shaking his shoulder. He peeled his eyes back open with an effort.

"Stay awake," van Zieks said. His voice sounded strange: gravelly, rushed, tight. "Hold on. I've got you."

Kazuma felt limp and boneless, collapsed against his mentor's side with a strong arm circled about him to keep him nominally upright. When van Zieks walked forward and prodded him along, Kazuma managed to stagger a few steps, although he sagged his entire weight against the man.

"I can't," Kazuma gasped out as everything closed in around him, pulling him under.

"Hold on," van Zieks was saying, but his voice sounded so far away, fading towards nothing. "Please–"

But Kazuma could only collapse like a puppet with its strings cut as everything went black.

When Kazuma opened his eyes, everything was strange and unfamiliar. The mattress was too hard, the blanket too scratchy, the walls too white. This was definitely not his bed, not his apartment. He searched his memory, but his thoughts were slow and lethargic. It took a minute to recall being attacked in the street and passing out. He must have been taken to the hospital. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but daylight was leaking through the gap in the curtains.

He shifted experimentally and frowned down at himself, lifting the blanket to see a swathe of bandages wrapped around his chest. The wound throbbed, but the pain was dulled—uncomfortable but not agonizing. They must have given him some good painkillers too.

He had been shot somehow… He remembered that much. And van Zieks had been attacked from behind. Was he…? But he had been talking to Kazuma afterwards, hadn't he? Ordering him to stay awake? So he should be alright, if in a foul temper at being disobeyed. Unless Kazuma had imagined that part. It was hard to tell.

The door creaked open, and he squinted blearily at the nurse who stepped inside.

"Oh!" she said, noticing his scrutiny. "You're awake. How do you feel?"

"Fine, I guess? Not great, but… What happened?"

The nurse bustled over, glancing at the chart beside the bed and examining bottles of medicine. "Do you remember being attacked? Lord van Zieks brought you in last night after you were shot. Lucky he got you this far, the state he was in. It's a serious injury and you lost a lot of blood, but we removed the bullet successfully and your condition is stable. You'll just need a lot of rest to recuperate."

"What do you mean, 'the state he was in'?" Kazuma asked, his stomach dropping. "Is he alright? I thought he was stabbed in the back."

"Yes, he was. A bullet grazed his leg as well. They were serious injuries too, but he's doing well. I just meant it was lucky that he could carry you so far like that. Couldn't find a carriage, can you believe it? Although it's probably because he couldn't go looking for one while applying pressure to your wound. He'll be glad to know you're awake." She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "He didn't even tell us he was injured until after we took you back for surgery. We assumed the blood was yours. I expect the only reason he's still here is because he's been waiting for you to wake up. He usually leaves immediately after treatment, but you've been unconscious all day. It's already nearly seven."

Kazuma vaguely remembered van Zieks trying to prod him into walking, but after he'd passed out… He wasn't sure how anyone could carry a full-grown man without assistance while suffering from injuries to the back and leg. It seemed a very foolish thing to do, trying to lug someone around like that. At least it sounded like his mentor was ultimately alright, even if their mistake had cost the both of them. It could have been a good deal worse.

The nurse gave Kazuma more medicine and advised him to rest before slipping back out of the room. Not five minutes later, the door opened again. Van Zieks stood silhouetted in the doorway, regarding Kazuma with an utterly blank expression. He looked entirely like himself, if a little more unkempt than usual after a night spent in the hospital.

"How are you feeling? Shall I call the nurse to bring you more painkillers?"

"I'm fine," Kazuma said. "She already gave me some."

He tried to sit up, but the throbbing pain in his chest flared sharply, making him suck in a breath as his vision wavered. Between one breath and the next, van Zieks somehow materialized at his side, wrapping a supporting arm around his shoulders and fluffing up the pillows so that he could lean back in a more comfortable upright position. While Kazuma tried to catch his breath, van Zieks stepped back and watched him with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Kazuma readjusted his position carefully so that he was sitting up properly. It felt too strange to converse with van Zieks while lying down. "It might just take a minute to kick in. Are you alright? I heard you got shot along with being stabbed in the back."

Van Zieks threw him a disbelieving look. "I am a far sight better than you, Mr. Asogi. Your injury is a good deal more serious."

Kazuma didn't think that answered the question at all, really, but he doubted pressing the point would get him anywhere.

"What happened?" he asked instead. "I don't remember much after getting shot."

Van Zieks let out a breath. Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes like storm clouds, and the crease between his brows could be from pain as much as concern.

"It was careless of me," he said. "I should have been paying more attention. He had a concealed gun. When you disarmed him, he pulled it out and shot you. I assume he was aiming for stealth and wanted to avoid attracting attention with gunfire until you forced his hand."

Kazuma scowled. "I feel a lecture coming on. I really did mean to finish the fight, though."

"No… He was fast. I didn't even see it until he was already shooting. I don't know that there was much more you could have done." Van Zieks closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, mouth pinched into a tight line. "After he shot you, I was able to incapacitate him. I took you to the hospital, and the police picked up our man a few streets away. We did enough damage to him that he didn't make it far. He's receiving medical attention before being put on trial. The Yard will likely want a statement from you as well. That's all, more or less."

Kazuma raised his eyebrows. It sounded like a very condensed, matter-of-fact version of events that told him very little of what he actually wanted to know.

"I see," he said. "Thank you for getting me here. It couldn't have been easy."

"Considering you were injured while defending me, I don't think it's something that deserves much commendation. I should warn you, Mr. Sholmes found out about the attack through his connections. He never could resist the urge to investigate a crime. He and Miss Iris were here this morning, and I have sent word to them that you've woken. Be aware that they are liable to come storming in any minute. Try to keep the visit short so that you can rest."

Kazuma sighed. As much as he liked Iris and was even starting to appreciate Sholmes, he still felt bone-weary and aching. Their exuberance and high energy sounded exhausting right now. But he didn't want them to worry, so he'd just have to put a brave face on it.

"I'll try," he said. "But it will likely depend on how excitable Mr. Sholmes is today."

"I should also inform you that you are being put on medical leave, effective immediately." It was not exactly unusual for van Zieks to sound so stiff and formal and coolly distant, but it was a far cry from the easy camaraderie of last night. "Expect to be on leave for at least two weeks, at which time we will reassess your condition."

"Two weeks!"

"At the minimum."

Kazuma scowled. "What am I supposed to do for two weeks?"

"Rest."

"The Weatherby case goes to trial next week!"

"I am assuming control of your case, and you will be assigned no new work until you return to the office. Your schedule is entirely clear, and you are on bed rest."

"Why aren't you on medical leave? That doesn't seem fair. I don't want to be stuck in the hospital for weeks. Give me a day or two and I'll be fine."

"You will stay here for the remainder of today and tomorrow. Then, if your condition is deemed stable enough, I will make alternative arrangements for your convalescence somewhere more comfortable."

"What is that even supposed to mean? Why–?"

"You almost died," van Zieks said sharply. "The bullet luckily missed your vital organs, but it hit you at close range. You lost an exorbitant amount of blood. The doctor was with you all night, working to stabilize you. You are in no condition to be up and working. You are on medical leave. It is not a suggestion. It is not negotiable. You may complain as vociferously as you desire from the comfort of your bed, as long as you stay in it, but it will change nothing."

The protestations died in Kazuma's throat. Something jagged and raw glittered in van Zieks's eyes, and his voice was tight. Kazuma had not considered that his injury might be so serious, but then he remembered the naked concern on his mentor's face last night and swallowed hard.

"I…"

"Kazu!" Iris said loudly, bursting into the room with Sholmes ambling along behind her. "How do you feel? We've been so worried! I brought snacks so you don't have to eat that sad hospital food, and also tea. Would you like some tea too, Mr. Barry? I made it especially to help promote recuperation!"

"Not right now," van Zieks said, stepping aside to allow the newcomers bedside access. "But thank you."

Kazuma raised an eyebrow. Van Zieks never turned down Iris's offers of tea. He might be bold enough to decline invitations, but once he was in her clutches, she had him twisted around her finger.

The room descended into a whirlwind of activity. Iris pulled out snacks and a thermos of tea, plying Kazuma with her creations as she fussed over him and asked a hundred questions. Sholmes broke in with frequent tangents about everything he had thus far deduced about the incident, which was a hodgepodge of real insights and his usual ridiculous theories.

It took Kazuma a good few minutes to notice that van Zieks had disappeared, taking advantage of the chaos to escape.

"Where did Lord van Zieks go?" he asked, exasperated.

"Oh…" Iris looked around and frowned. "I suppose we were ignoring him…"

"Aha!" said Sholmes. "I expect he has checked himself out of the hospital."

Kazuma stared at him. "What?"

"Marvel at my deductive prowess! He rejected Iris's offer of tea. Why? Because he had a pressing engagement elsewhere and had to be going. What might this engagement be, you ask?" Sholmes produced a newspaper with a flourish and slapped it down on the bed beside Kazuma. "As you can see from today's article, the German ambassador is in London this week. Lord van Zieks has invited him to tea, and thus it would not make sense to drink tea beforehand."

"…Why would he be meeting with the German ambassador?"

"Shouldn't you know, my dear fellow? You're his foreign acquaintance, aren't you? Perhaps they are discussing your stay in England."

"I'm Japanese, Mr. Sholmes. I have no relation to the German ambassador."

Sholmes shrugged gaily, unconcerned. "I expect they're discussing transferring you to Germany instead. What a marvelous opportunity, to also study the German judicial system during your time abroad!"

Kazuma stared some more. "I'd think he'd be gloating more if he finally found an opportunity to be rid of my apprenticeship. I truly fail to see why turning down tea means he's checking himself out of the hospital and running off to meet the ambassador."

"Also, I can see out the window that he's leaving," Sholmes added offhandedly, gesturing towards the window on the other side of the bed.

"What?" Kazuma raised himself a little, wincing at the pain that lanced through his chest. Sure enough, he glimpsed a tall figure clad in ostentatious regalia striding down the street with a slight limp, away from the hospital.

"Hurley, maybe you should have led with that," Iris said with a sigh.

"I can't believe he just snuck out like that," Kazuma said sourly, although he very well could. It didn't seem very fair, considering he'd been consigned to languish here in the hospital.

"I'm sure he's a very busy man," Sholmes said. "Meeting with ambassadors sounds like an unpleasant bit of work."

"He does probably have a lot of things to do," Iris said, delicately sidestepping the question of the ambassador. "He always seems busy. He really should be resting, though."

"He's always been a terrible hypocrite," Kazuma muttered. "He's put me on medical leave."

Iris exchanged a look with Sholmes. "Well… You should really be resting too. I think he's just worried about you. He was very tense when we saw him this morning."

Sholmes laughed loudly enough to make Kazuma wince. "The fellow has been terrorizing the hospital staff! I'm sure they're glad to see the back of him."

"What do you mean?" Kazuma asked.

"He's been demanding updates from the doctor, ordering the nurses in to check on you, biting off everyone's heads, pacing grooves into the floor, and biting off the heads of anyone who suggests he rest his leg instead of pacing grooves into the floor. The man is a menace."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as all that," Iris said diplomatically. "But… He did seem upset this morning. You were hurt really badly, Kazu. We've all been worried. And I think he probably feels bad that you got injured while defending him. He thinks he should have been paying attention and stopped the attack before you got hurt. That's all."

Kazuma looked down at his hands twisting in the blanket. He felt heavy and cold again, vaguely nauseous as if the tea and snacks weren't agreeing with him.

"Oh," he said. "I see. Well… If you don't mind, I think the medicine is catching up to me. I'll probably be falling asleep in a minute."

"Of course," Iris said, resting one small hand overtop his before pulling away. "You should rest. I hope you're feeling better soon. Come on, Hurley."

Kazuma sank back into his pillows, letting the painkillers dull his mind and pull him under.

The next day, Kazuma felt marginally better—at least as long as he didn't move too much or breathe too deeply. Nausea and dizziness were frequent visitors and his chest ached, but the pain was muted by the medicine and his mind felt a little clearer.

Around noon, Iris and Sholmes returned with food, tea, and companionable chatter. Kazuma appreciated their company more than he had yesterday. He'd already begun crawling out of his skin with boredom.

After maybe an hour, though, Iris glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. "Oh! We need to get going. We still have some preparations to make. We're putting Runo's old room back together for you. It will be nice having you over. We'll take good care of you!"

"Excuse me?" Kazuma asked, at a loss. "What do you mean?"

She blinked at him with almost comical surprise. "Didn't Mr. Barry tell you? He asked us to look after you for a couple of weeks while you're recovering so that you aren't alone in your apartment. He's supposed to bring you by later if the physician clears you to leave. He said he mentioned it to you."

"He mentioned that he would 'make arrangements for my convalescence', but that's about it. I haven't seen him at all today."

He wasn't sure how he felt about van Zieks running around behind the scenes making his living arrangements and taking over his work and pestering the medical staff. It seemed beyond the scope of a mentor's responsibilities for their apprentice. It felt a little like van Zieks was overstepping himself, and that always exasperated Kazuma to no end. And yet… Part of Kazuma liked that feeling of being taken care of, even if it was with cold efficiency. Maybe van Zieks deemed it necessity more than compassion, but it was still kind of him to care.

"As always, the man communicates abysmally," Sholmes said with a frankly unwarranted amount of cheer.

"Sorry, Kazu," Iris said. "I assumed you knew. But don't worry! I'm something of a doctor myself, you know. I'll make sure your recovery goes smoothly. Mr. Barry said he wouldn't trust anyone else to take care of you. Isn't that sweet of him?" She giggled and gathered up her things. "We'll see you later, alright? We'll have lots of fun. I have plenty of things we can do while you're on bed rest. See you soon!"

She and Sholmes hurried off on their errands, and silence descended over the room once more. Kazuma knew he would regret it if he tried to get up, but that didn't stop the forced inactivity from itching at the underside of his skin. He wondered how long it would be before he felt well enough to be up and moving again. Hopefully, his sanity could outlast his injury.

It was nearly six in the evening when a nurse popped her head into the room. "Are you ready to go? Lord van Zieks is here to collect you. He's arranged your discharge."

"I can go?" Kazuma said blankly. "Just like that?"

"Yes. Lord van Zieks has settled the bill already and obtained your care instructions from the doctor, so you're all set."

He wanted to snap that he didn't need van Zieks to settle his debts, but he supposed the man was wealthy enough. He could certainly afford it better than Kazuma could on his student's stipend. Besides, Kazuma was ready to be free of this place. No point delaying his escape.

He rolled out of bed gingerly, moving slowly and trying not to pull his wound, but he still had to lean against the wall and catch his breath when a sharp pain stabbed through him.

He followed the nurse out to the lobby, where van Zieks stood waiting. Van Zieks stepped forward to meet him, offering his arm. Kazuma eyed it distastefully, reluctant to accept such aid, but deigned to take it and lean on his mentor for support when van Zieks sighed through his nose.

"Just remember to rest as much as possible and keep your wound clean," the nurse said. "Don't strain yourself. Your injury is severe—you wouldn't want to end up back here because you opened it up again."

"I've been put on medical leave," Kazuma said dryly. "I'll have nothing to do but rest."

"I've arranged for a medical professional to supervise his recovery," van Zieks said, choosing to leave out the fact that said professional was eleven years old. "He will be in good hands."

The nurse fixed him with a pointed look. "You too, My Lord. Your wounds are serious enough."

"Very well," he said in a tone that made it clear he would be doing exactly what he wanted with little regard for anyone else's opinion. "Good day, madam."

He started for the door, moving slowly to match Kazuma's pace. Kazuma gritted his teeth and held on for balance in case another dizzy spell hit.

"This is the worst," he muttered. He'd had his fair share of injuries before, but they were usually minor cuts and bruises. Nothing of this severity, at least not since the disastrous bump on the head on the SS Burya, which he hardly remembered. He scowled at the way van Zieks barely showed any sign of injury besides the slightest limp. "You don't seem that bothered. I suppose I'll get used to it."

"I should hope not. Just a little farther. I have a carriage waiting outside."

"To take us to Baker Street?"

"Yes."

"You didn't tell me you were asking Iris and Mr. Sholmes to look after me."

"Were they not eager to tell you themselves? I had other matters to attend to."

Kazuma blew out an exasperated breath and clambered painfully into the waiting carriage. Van Zieks sat across from him and stared out the window. Kazuma noted that he sat very straight, his back hovering a few centimeters away from the back of the seat without quite touching it, his elbow surreptitiously braced behind him to make sure it stayed that way. So he was feeling the effects of his injury. Just a man, after all.

The ride to Baker Street passed in near-perfect silence. Kazuma was aching and irritable, and van Zieks seemed withdrawn and distant, his mind somewhere else.

Iris greeted them at the door and ushered them inside. "You must stay for dinner now that you're here, Mr. Barry," she insisted. "I set a place for you!"

Van Zieks looked like he wanted to argue, but cast a sideways glance at Kazuma and nodded once.

"Fear not, Mr. Asogi!" Sholmes said gaily as they gathered around the table to sample Iris's cooking. "We will entertain you every minute of the day! You shan't be bored for a moment!"

Kazuma was exhausted just thinking about it.

"I hope you've built in time for him to actually sleep and rest," van Zieks said sharply.

"Sleep? My dear fellow, we must take advantage of every moment"

"Don't worry," Iris said. "I'll take good care of Kazu and make sure Hurley doesn't bother him too much. I've already pawned his violin for the duration." She gave Kazuma a sly smile. "You're welcome."

"You've done what?" Sholmes asked, aghast. "I thought I said I'd never pawn it again after the mix-up at Windibank's!"

"Except for when you pawned it again right before Runo and Susie left."

"You know, I don't remember doing that at all. Are you sure you didn't pawn it?"

"No, Hurley. It was you."

"And why would you deprive Mr. Asogi of experiencing three hundred and thirty-six hours of stunning violin concertos?"

"He can't sleep if he has to listen to violin music for two weeks straight, can he?"

Sholmes groaned and slumped over, an intensely morose look clouding his face. "No one appreciates my musical genius," he said bleakly. "Even though it is the only spot of color in an otherwise desolate world."

Iris patted him on the back kindly. "Cheer up, Hurley. I'll get it back first thing once he's recovered."

Kazuma was privately glad to avoid listening to a screeching violin for weeks while he was trapped with nowhere to go, but it didn't seem appropriate to say so when Sholmes looked so glum. He threw Iris what he hoped was a discreet look of immense gratitude.

"I appreciate your hospitality," he said.

"We're glad to have you! It will be nice to have you around more." Iris looked at van Zieks and frowned. "Aren't you hungry, Mr. Barry? You've hardly touched your food."

Sure enough, van Zieks had taken advantage of everyone's bickering to push the food around his plate to give the impression of having tried it, but his plate was still full. He startled out of his thoughts and looked over at her.

"Oh. Pray forgive the discourtesy of failing to give your cooking the appreciation it deserves. I don't have much of an appetite at the moment."

"Hm…" Iris tapped a finger against her lips as she considered him. "Is the pain making you nauseous? I could brew a special blend to help. Or I could cook something else if you have another preference."

"No, that won't be necessary," van Zieks said hastily. "But thank you for your consideration. Actually, I must be going. I have matters that need tending to."

He stood, and Iris jumped to her feet as well.

"You're leaving already?" she asked. "You should really stay longer. I'm sure any business can wait? You should be resting too!"

"I'm afraid they are matters of some import. Pray forgive the discourtesy of departing prematurely. Thank you again for agreeing to this favor. I shall leave Mr. Asogi in your capable hands."

"What kind of matters?" Kazuma asked suspiciously, still peeved that van Zieks was running around on business instead of being confined to bed rest.

"That's really none of your business," van Zieks said. A grimace pulled the corners of his mouth downwards. "Yet."

"What does that–?"

"Goodnight." Van Zieks swept from the room without another word, Iris following forlornly on his heels to see him out.

"What's that about?" Kazuma wondered aloud, staring after them.

"Late night with the ambassador, I expect," Sholmes said, having already recovered from his fit of melancholy.

Kazuma only sighed. He supposed he should have known better than to expect an answer.

In the end, Iris ordered three weeks of convalescence, although she allowed Kazuma out of bed halfway through. It felt very strange not to set foot in the Prosecutor's Office for so long. That was where Kazuma had spent most of his time since arriving in London, and he hadn't ever allowed himself so much free time before. It wasn't as if he'd had anyone to spend it with, once Ryunosuke and Susato were gone, or anything else he really wanted to do.

It might have driven him mad if Iris and Sholmes hadn't been so attentive, eager to engage him and keep his mind occupied. They always had something to talk about, some new invention to show him, some mystery they asked for his help unraveling. There was always tea to drink, a cat to pet, some scene of a story to read. Sholmes even materialized once with a borrowed—potentially stolen—violin and serenaded Kazuma with a wailing concert. Iris applauded politely, but the instrument vanished mysteriously overnight, and even Sholmes's deductive prowess couldn't find it. Kazuma was secretly grateful. One concert had been enough.

Iris proved to be an excellent caregiver. She brewed countless teas, cleaned the wound regularly, and created treatment plans. She always explained what she was doing as she was doing it and answered any questions patiently. She was not trying to teach Kazuma how to do it himself, as van Zieks had done with suturing, but making sure he understood what she did and was comfortable with it. Her sunny disposition, lively conversation, and countless projects she delighted in sharing with him made the time pass more bearably. Even Sholmes seemed more palatable than usual, despite the close quarters. The detective was still ridiculous and bumbling and often wildly intrusive, but Kazuma had come to trust that he generally meant well and was learning to find more amusement in his antics before taking offense at them. If Kazuma had to be largely confined within four walls for weeks, he supposed Baker Street was not the worst place he could be.

While Iris and Sholmes were a constant presence, van Zieks was not. He came once for tea towards the end of the first week to check in, but ate little and said less. That was the last Kazuma had seen or heard of him. It felt strange, if only because van Zieks had, up until now, been his most constant companion. Even when they were not friends, even when they had hated each other, they spent more time together than with anyone else simply by virtue of sharing the office and their work. Van Zieks's absence was like the lifting of some storm cloud that had been shadowing Kazuma for months, but it also felt something like a missing limb. Kazuma would turn to make a sly comment or share a wry look at something Sholmes had said, and van Zieks would not be there.

Well, let him sulk. Kazuma would be stuck with him again soon enough once he was allowed back at the office.

On the Saturday of the third week, Iris announced that Kazuma would be allowed back to work on Monday.

"You still need to take it easy, though," she warned. "Don't strain yourself. Oh, and Mr. Barry is coming at two o'clock tomorrow to check in."

"Is he?" Kazuma asked a little snidely. "Nice of him to show back up as soon as you've declared me fit again. I'm surprised he even knows I'll be back at the office, considering how little interest he's shown."

Iris frowned. "I'm not sure why he hasn't been talking to you. He's been talking to me."

"He has?"

"Well, more like I've been sending him updates on your progress, but he also writes to ask after you. Nothing much, but we exchange notes every few days."

This was the first Kazuma had heard of it. He was skeptical and said so, but Iris pulled out a wad of notes covered in van Zieks's neat scrawl that contained polite enquiries about Kazuma's health and thanks for Iris's timely updates. They were only a few sentences each, almost perfunctory, but it was more than Kazuma had expected. He wanted to ask why van Zieks was talking to Iris instead of him, but the question sounded sulky and childish no matter how he imagined it, so he said nothing.

The next day, van Zieks rapped on the door at two o'clock sharp. He followed Iris into the sitting room, but remained standing when she offered him a seat across from Kazuma and Sholmes.

"I'm not staying," he said when she tried to hand him a cup of tea. His expression was shuttered, and he held a file folder clutched in his hand. "Mr. Asogi, I'm pleased to hear that your recovery is progressing so well and you'll be back in the office starting tomorrow. I have come to inform you of the details of your transfer."

Kazuma frowned. "Transfer?"

"Yes. Your apprenticeship is being transferred to Lord Norrington. He is an upstanding prosecutor of good repute, and I can assure you that you will be in good hands."

"Excuse me?" Kazuma couldn't believe his ears. "You're trying to pawn me off on someone else?"

"I'm sure you'll find a more amicable partnership a nice change of pace."

"You can't just do that! You said that you'd mentor me! We had an agreement. I refuse to be shoved off on some second-rate prosecutor because you've grown tired of me and gone back on your word."

Kazuma glared, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. This felt vaguely unreal, like a bad dream. He had worried van Zieks might dissolve his apprenticeship before, but that was back in the beginning when they had still held grudges and been wary of each other. Since then, they had… If they were not friends, exactly, they had at least grown closer. Kazuma had trusted van Zieks.

Now van Zieks only stared back at him blank-eyed, features impassive. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice. It's already done. Your consent is not required. I assure you that Lord Norrington is a prosecutor of some merit who–"

"You can't do that," Kazuma said again, teetering between anger and fear, disbelief and heartbreak. "You promised."

Van Zieks sighed through his nose, but his voice was unwavering. "I have taken the liberty of having your personal effects moved to Lord Norrington's office already, and everything is prepared for you to resume your duties tomorrow. I have arranged everything with the Lord Chief Justice and Japanese dignitaries. I am still vouching for your continued presence in London, and you may reach out with inquiries if you are given any trouble. I have provided a positive reference for you, and the reason for your transfer is listed as safety concerns. No doubts have been cast upon your performance."

"Safety concerns?" Kazuma repeated dully.

"It would create an unfortunate political scandal if you were to be assassinated on English soil. Lord Norrington's office will be a safer place for you to complete your apprenticeship."

"Then what was the point? Why practice sparring and teach me how to treat wounds and show me all the things to look out for? I thought we were already mitigating safety concerns."

Van Zieks stepped forward and handed the folder to Kazuma. "I was asked to deliver this to you. It should be a copy of your transfer papers."

Kazuma stared at the file in his hands like it might be a viper preparing to strike, with a dull sort of disbelief edged with fear. He was afraid to open it up and see that it was true.

And then anger crashed back over him like a wave. He stood and threw the folder to the ground, pages scattering across the floor.

"I can't believe you," he seethed. "How could you do this?"

Van Zieks stared at the papers littering the rug for a long moment before slowly looking up to meet Kazuma's eyes. "Mr. Asogi," he said gravely, "it has been a privilege to work with you these past months. I wish you the best in your future endeavors." He glanced at the onlookers and added, "Miss Iris, Mr. Sholmes, thank you again for looking after Mr. Asogi. I trust he will be able to rely on your support going forward. Thank you for your hospitality. I must be going now. Take care."

He turned smartly on his heel and strode from the room, leaving everyone staring after him. The front door clicked open and shut. No one said anything for a long time.

"Oh dear," Iris said finally, in a very small voice.

"Well, he has been busy," Sholmes said with a grim sort of air. "It seems he decided to go through with it after all."

Kazuma shook himself out of his stupor to look at Sholmes sharply. "He said something to you?"

"He never says anything to me."

But suddenly, pieces were clicking together.

"That hogwash about meeting with the German ambassador," Kazuma said slowly. "You said it was to transfer my apprenticeship."

Could Sholmes have been hinting at the truth all along, even as he hid it beneath ridiculously implausible theories?

Sholmes sighed. "It seemed rather likely that he was at least considering it."

"No wonder he's been acting so strangely," Iris said sadly.

"That lying, scheming, cold-hearted coward," Kazuma growled, kicking at the trunk in the middle of the floor hard enough that the teacups rattled on its surface. Then it occurred to him that it would be quite rude even if Iris and Sholmes hadn't just spent weeks caring for him. "Sorry."

Iris bit her lip. "I think he probably blames himself. He doesn't want you to get hurt again, so…"

"We always knew it was a risk. He warned me about it. And we took precautions. We just got unlucky once."

"Maybe, but it's one thing to know something could happen and quite another to see it happen in front of you, don't you think? Maybe it hit him harder when you had such a close call. I'm telling you, he was really upset about it."

Kazuma drew in a deep breath and let it out. He didn't want to sit here and pick apart van Zieks's motivations. They'd always been opaque and inscrutable, and even when Kazuma began to think he was learning to understand his mentor… Well, it seemed like he didn't after all.

He knelt down, wincing at a pang in his chest, and began collecting the scattered pages. It would be rude to leave trash all over the floor too. He barely looked at the papers as he shoved them haphazardly back into the folder.

He paused only when he noticed a page filled with van Zieks's scrawl clipped to some other form. His eyes skimmed the note of their own accord, before he thought better of it.

Kazuma Asogi is a very bright and skilled individual whose experience as a former defense attorney has given him a unique perspective on his cases. I have had the privilege of supervising him for several months, and he has made remarkable progress during that time. I have no reservations about his ability or ethics, and I recommend overlooking any strikes against him from earlier this year. He has more than overcome his earlier faults. He is the kind of principled and hardworking person we need, and I recommend him most highly. I expect great things from him.

His transfer is not being requested due to any failing on his part, only as a matter of ensuring his safety. I am afraid that I have failed to protect him adequately from the dangers associated with my reputation, and I believe it wise to place him somewhere he is less likely to come to harm.

Thank you for your consideration in this matter. Please advise what else is required of me to finalize these arrangements, and I will oblige immediately.

Kazuma sat back on his heels and closed his eyes against the sudden heat pricking their corners. Van Zieks was abrasive and cold and often difficult to get along with. He was strict and nitpicked reports to death and was prone to heavy-handed assertions of authority. He seemed to care little for what anyone thought, was wildly discourteous, and engaged in dishonorable tactics whenever it suited him.

But he also gave Kazuma pictures of his father in case he didn't have any mementos. He gently pushed Kazuma to reach out to his friends instead of isolating himself. He taught Kazuma a hundred small lessons that were in no standard curriculum—things that would make him not only a better prosecutor but also a better person. He was proud of Kazuma if a difficult case went well, maybe even smiling and offering a glass of wine to show his approval. He worried about Kazuma if he was hurt and made sure he got to safety and ensured he was looked after. He was a mentor who Kazuma looked up to and respected, who had cared for and protected him, who had been the lifeline he needed to hold on to in a country where he'd known no one.

Kazuma needed him. Or maybe… Kazuma wanted him. He did not want to lose the person he had come to rely on more than any other in this city.

He felt suddenly lost and small, with the terrible knowledge that he was losing something important and irreplaceable. His ribcage squeezed around his heart, tighter and tighter.

When Iris knelt down beside him and put her arms around him, he scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and pretended he wasn't crying.