Transference

by Mnemosyne's Elegy

At first Kazuma thinks he's made a massive mistake choosing to remain in van Zieks's care, but he slowly learns to rely on his mentor. Van Zieks teaches Kazuma about more than just the law and is his staunchest support in London—at least until everything falls apart. When Kazuma is exiled for his own safety, he must convince van Zieks to change his mind or learn to accept the loss.

9. Kazuma bullies van Zieks

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Chapter 9

(In which Kazuma bullies his way back into van Zieks's business since the man is clearly not taking care of himself.)

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Kazuma waited until the end of the day before going to check on van Zieks. His reasoning was that van Zieks was likely to be out and about for the rest of the afternoon, getting his wounds treated at the hospital, investigating the jurors, and collecting more evidence. Van Zieks liked to do fieldwork during the day when possible, deeming it more efficient when the people he needed were more likely to be available and cooperative. He never shied away from out-of-hours work, but some people made themselves scarce outside of business hours or grew surly when bothered too late. In the evening, he was more likely to retire back to the office to go through paperwork and draw up arguments. Things he could do by himself at his desk in the lamplight.

With that in mind, Kazuma picked restlessly at his work until an hour and a half past the close of the day, ignoring increasingly pointed suggestions to go home already. Norrington only ever stayed late if there was urgent business to take care of, and rarely for longer than an hour or so. Still, he didn't kick Kazuma out or go home himself, which was undoubtedly out of courtesy and not because he had any desire to still be there.

"Alright," Kazuma said finally, rising to his feet and stretching out his legs. "I think I'll go check in on Lord van Zieks. Hopefully, he's back in his office by now."

"Good luck," Norrington said. "And then go home. If you put in too many hours at the office, you're only going to wear yourself out."

Kazuma couldn't quite bring himself to follow along with Norrington's comfortable pace, putting in only his assigned hours unless there was an emergency and doing only the exact right amount of work on his cases, but the man was not entirely wrong. While Kazuma admired van Zieks's punishing work ethic and devotion to building the best case possible down to every last detail, he sometimes worried that his one-time mentor was going to work himself into an early grave.

"I'll go home afterwards," he agreed. "Goodnight."

With a last backwards wave in Norrington's direction, Kazuma set off down the hall. The building was quiet, most people already gone for the day, although light shone from beneath a couple of doors. Outside, the sky was already dark and clouded, the evening chill seeping in through the window frames and settling into the stone walls and floors. Kazuma shivered and huddled down in his coat, walking faster.

Not for the first time, he silently cursed van Zieks for transferring him to an office across the entire building. Van Zieks's end of the building was even darker and quieter. His office was a little out of the way of the neighboring ones, precisely the way he liked it, and everyone else seemed to have packed up already. Kazuma remembered, from his own time there, how they often had the entire wing of the building to themselves after hours.

So he wasn't surprised to see the doors he passed shut tight, no light peeking out from beneath, but he was caught off guard by a low, angry murmur of voices from farther down the hall. Metal clanged against metal, and he straightened up to attention, the cold forgotten, and took off running.

The distant clamor resolved itself into the distinctive clanging of swords as he drew nearer. The door to the office was closed, and when he twisted the knob to push his way inside, it jammed. He blinked at it, taken aback. He could think of no reason why van Zieks might have locked himself inside with someone he might come to blows with. Unless he wasn't the one who had locked the door at all.

The sounds of fighting on the other side of the door were louder now, and someone snarled something in a low, harsh voice. Kazuma stepped back and kicked the heavy wooden door, but it didn't budge. The impact jarred up his leg, and the loud thump was drowned out by the clatter of swords.

He adjusted his stance for maximum momentum and slammed his boot into the door just beside the lock, where he hoped it might be weakest. Finally, the door gave way in a splinter of wood, crashing inwards with a bang.

There were three men in the room along with van Zieks. One lay sprawled across the floor in a slowly spreading pool of blood, obviously unconscious. Two more were still on their feet, blades flashing in the dim light as they tried to back van Zieks into a corner. Van Zieks was not giving ground, though. He had positioned himself squarely in the middle of the room, avoiding the desk and unconscious assailant as he struck back hard and fast, features blank but eyes coldly determined as he slashed the tip of his blade along an attacker's arm.

They all started at the sound of the door caving in. One of the attackers glanced back over his shoulder, and the first crack splintered across van Zieks's blank façade when his gaze flicked to the doorway and he saw Kazuma standing there.

Kazuma yanked his sword out of its scabbard. At almost the same moment he lunged forward, the other attacker lashed out, darting beneath van Zieks's guard while he was distracted. The blade bit deeply into van Zieks's shoulder with enough force to make one of his knees buckle before he caught himself. Kazuma's breath caught in his throat as the man yanked the sword back out and van Zieks jerked forward along with it.

Kazuma rushed at him, but he needn't have worried. Van Zieks stepped back, passing his blade to his other hand, and parried the incoming blow. His movements lacked their normal delicate precision and crushing power, but they were skilled enough. It figured he had done at least rudimentary training with his non-dominant hand.

Kazuma still would have cleaved his sword down on his attacker, but the other man had turned on him.

"I'll kill this one," the unfortunate criminal growled.

Kazuma scoffed. "Not likely."

It took only a minute before both assassins were laid out on the ground with their companion. Kazuma made sure to give his a good whack on the head and nudged all of them with his boot to ensure they were out cold.

Steel clattered against the tile, ringing hollowly, and Kazuma's head snapped back up. The sword had slipped from van Zieks's fingers, and he reached up to clasp his hand over the wound in his shoulder as he leaned back against the desk. In a matter of seconds, his glove was sopping with blood.

Kazuma bit out a curse and rushed for the medical kit. "That's bleeding a lot. It looked pretty deep. You might need stitches."

"Yes," van Zieks said tightly. "Give me that and go find a police officer to sweep up this mess."

Kazuma scoffed and held the kit out of van Zieks's reach as he began digging through it. "I don't think so. There's no way you're going to be able to stitch that yourself."

"I don't need to stitch it, only staunch the bleeding until I can get to the hospital. I'd rather not have to fight a second round."

"They're out cold. I checked. We should have a few minutes to make sure you don't bleed to death." Kazuma looked over all the implements and frowned. "Do you want some laudanum?"

"No, I do not. Just hand me the bandages."

"I'll stitch it for you."

"That won't be necessary."

"Well, you taught me how to stitch a wound, but I haven't been able to practice it yet," Kazuma said conversationally, trying to keep the triumph from coloring his voice. "I'd think it would be wise to practice before I get myself into a sticky situation."

Van Zieks fixed him with a hard look, but he was considering the proposition from every angle now. Kazuma knew, even before he sighed and nodded, that he would give in. It was exactly the kind of appeal that would win him over: all hard-edged practicality and framed as helping out someone else rather than accepting aid himself.

"Very well," van Zieks said. "It would be best if you practiced on someone else before trying it on yourself. And I'd like to avoid another trip to the hospital."

His voice sounded strained, and his face had been leached of every last trace of color in the dim light. He dropped his hand just long enough to brace it on the desk and lever himself back to sit on a surface carelessly swept clean of paperwork. The blood gushed down his arm, glittering wetly and perfuming the air with the stench of iron. He pressed his sodden glove back to the wound and regarded Kazuma with glassy eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to take the laudanum?" Kazuma asked as he pulled off his gloves.

"Very sure."

Van Zieks awkwardly scrabbled at his buttons with his free hand. Kazuma helped him peel off his coat and set the garment aside, concerned at how heavy and sodden the fabric felt. Underneath, the entire sleeve of van Zieks's shirt was dyed red.

"That's not good," Kazuma muttered, growing genuinely worried.

"I've had worse. It will be fine once it's stitched up."

Van Zieks's fingers trembled as he worked at the buttons of his shirt, and Kazuma shoved his hand aside to take over. He unbuttoned the garment down to the waist, enough to allow the damaged arm to be worked free of the sleeve. Van Zieks made an abortive motion towards shrugging the sleeve off his injured shoulder, but went abruptly still as pain knifed across his face.

"Let me help you."

Kazuma carefully slid the sleeve down van Zieks's arm. Van Zieks obligingly rolled his shoulder back to draw his arm upwards, but the movement made him suck in a breath between gritted teeth.

"Are you unharmed?" he asked, voice creaking and raw, as Kazuma pulled the sleeve free and the blood-soaked fabric slapped wetly against the desk.

"I'm fine," Kazuma said, frowning at the deep gash torn into the skin. "You're the one who's about to keel over."

It was a serious wound, and it would have been bad enough on its own if van Zieks hadn't already been stabbed twice not a few hours ago and lost a fair amount of blood then too. Kazuma wadded up a cloth to staunch some of the bleeding while he awkwardly cleaned the wound a little at a time. The blood was hardly slowing, making it difficult to see anything, and his confidence waned abruptly.

"Maybe the hospital isn't such a bad idea after all…"

"I've already been there enough for one day. And at this point… It would be wise to stop the bleeding as soon as possible. I can guide you through the proper care."

"…Right."

"Get the needle and thread." Van Zieks pressed his fingers to the cloth and shooed Kazuma's away. "I'll keep this in place. You'll need both hands."

When Kazuma fitted the thick thread to the needle and brought them to the skin, van Zieks moved the rag enough to give access to the lower part of the wound while continuing to stifle most of the blood flow.

"Tell me if I'm messing it up," Kazuma said.

"Make sure you line up the edges of the wound as you go, or it will heal poorly. Start at the bottom… Go in a little closer to the edge. No, not that close—you don't want it to tear through and have to redo it."

"Here?"

"Yes."

"How deep does it need to go?"

"Through all the layers of skin. There. That's good. Pull it over to the other side and tie it off…"

Kazuma worked as quickly as he dared, following instructions and trying to still the shaking of his hands. He was no stranger to blood or injury, but this particular process was new to him and the wound looked bad and he was nervous of making a mess of things after van Zieks's account of how badly he'd botched stitching one of his own wounds all those years ago.

Van Zieks relayed directions on how far apart to make the stitches and how to tie them off, his voice steady enough to keep Kazuma grounded and focused. The whole ordeal took probably only a few minutes, but it felt like a small eternity before Kazuma could lean back and survey the slightly uneven line of sutures knotting the skin together. Blood still oozed sluggishly from between the stitches, but at least van Zieks wasn't liable to bleed to death anymore.

"What do you think?" Kazuma asked, wiping the blood from his hands. "Have I scarred you terribly?"

Van Zieks glanced down at the sutures, twisting his neck at an uncomfortable angle to get a better look. "It will do… Although I might recommend that you do some more practice before trying it on yourself. I suppose if you're going to practice on anyone, it might as well be me. You'll have a hard time making a scar uglier than what I've already got."

Kazuma grimaced. "What a ringing endorsement."

"It's not bad for a first try. Much better than mine."

"Given that you were apparently delirious from blood loss and had no idea what you were doing, I'm not sure that's a flattering comparison."

Van Zieks snorted softly and leaned back, brushing aside the shirt concealing half his torso to gesture to a thick, twisted scar stretching horizontally across nearly his entire abdomen beneath his navel. Kazuma sucked in a breath between his teeth.

"It could be worse," van Zieks said with finality. "It's not bad for a first try. It should heal fine if I keep an eye on it. Your work is clean enough to keep me out of the hospital, at any rate."

"That's terrible. I can't believe you thought it was a good idea to try treating such a serious injury yourself. You're lucky you survived."

"Something like that. Hand me a rag and the bandages."

Kazuma sniffed disdainfully—he wasn't likely to leave a job unfinished—and wiped away the blood running down the length of van Zieks's arm before dabbing more carefully at the wound itself and wrapping bandages around it.

"Do you want me to redress the wounds from earlier too?" he asked, glancing at the red splotches bleeding through the gauze wrapped around van Zieks's chest.

"Not right now. I'll take care of it later. We have more pressing matters to attend to first."

Van Zieks leaned sideways, lips pulling into a grimace at the movement, and his hand groped along the desk before closing on a glass paperweight. Before Kazuma could ask what he was doing, van Zieks had drawn his arm back and tossed the object across the room. Kazuma started and turned around just as one of the assassins collapsed back to the floor like a sack of potatoes. The paperweight shattered on the tile in an explosion of glass shards.

"What the–?"

"As I said, more pressing matters," van Zieks said. "I need to clean up this mess."

Kazuma eyed the fallen man, but he didn't rise again. "Good aim."

"Of course. I certainly have enough practice."

"I suppose we're lucky that you aren't usually aiming to hit people."

"Luckily for all parties, that is frowned upon in a court of law."

Kazuma coughed out a quick, surprised sound that was nearly laughter. As he turned back to van Zieks, his gaze caught on a figure standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out.

He wondered how long Norrington had been there. If he'd been watching this lesson, the way van Zieks and Kazuma so comfortably slipped back into the roles of mentor and apprentice when the situation called for it.

"Sorry for disturbing you," Norrington said. "Actually, I came to make sure you weren't planning to wait here all night if Lord van Zieks wasn't here when you arrived, but it seems I just missed the excitement. It seemed like you had the matter well in hand."

Van Zieks went very still, gaze flicking towards the door. Kazuma worried he might lash out and grow defensive at being seen in such a vulnerable state, but what he actually said was much more peculiar.

"You broke my door." Van Zieks's voice sounded strange, thin and hollow and vaguely distant.

"It was locked and I had to get in somehow." Kazuma frowned at him, peering more closely at his ashen pallor and the pain folded into the lines of his face. "Are you in shock?"

Van Zieks had seemed steady enough while coaching Kazuma through the suturing process, but now his eyes looked dull and clouded over. He'd always been able to keep it together in a crisis, but perhaps now that he no longer had something immediately pressing to focus on… Well. He had certainly just lost a lot of blood. It would be enough to shock anyone's system.

Van Zieks looked back at Kazuma and shook his head sharply. "I'm fine," he said, sounding more like himself again. "I just happen to like having a door."

"Just bully someone into replacing it. People tend to work fast when you start ordering them around. I'm sure it will be fixed in no time." Kazuma hesitated and then added, "Sorry. You really only got hurt because I burst in and distracted you. You seem to have been doing fine before that."

"Don't be ridiculous," van Zieks said irritably. "How many times do I have to tell you to pay attention to your surroundings and stay focused? If I allow myself to be distracted, then the resulting injury is my responsibility. Would you help me with this?"

He was trying to work his arm back into the sleeve of his shirt without straining his shoulder and seemed to be struggling. Kazuma grimaced as he pinched the blood-damp fabric between his fingers, taking van Zieks's elbow to maneuver his arm into a better position.

"Lord Norrington, would you mind fetching an officer?" he asked. "We need to get these men taken into custody."

"I already have," Norrington said. "Or, I went and found a junior prosecutor in the other wing and sent him off to find someone. I thought I'd better come back in case those thugs began waking and you needed a hand. I expect the bobbies will be here any minute." He paused, cocking his head. "Actually, that might be them now."

It took Kazuma a few seconds to catch his meaning, but then he noticed the heavy pounding of boots echoing faintly from somewhere farther down the hall. Van Zieks began pawing at his shirt with new urgency the moment his arm was back in the sleeve, the small buttons slipping through his bloody fingers.

"Here." Kazuma batted his hands away and began doing up the buttons himself. Each one he hooked closed seemed to cover another scar back up again.

"Coat," van Zieks ground out when Kazuma had finished and turned his collar down.

The footsteps were getting louder, urgent voices ringing hollowly off the walls. Kazuma snatched up the discarded suit jacket and draped it around van Zieks's shoulders. The first sleeve went on easily. The second made a frisson of pain arc across van Zieks's face like lightning, but they didn't have time to be any gentler. Kazuma did up the buttons and stepped back to give the man more room, reaching out to offer him a hand.

Van Zieks gripped Kazuma's hand tightly and slid off the desk. The moment his boots hit the floor, his knees buckled and he pitched forward. Kazuma took a bracing half-step back and propped the man up.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Van Zieks did not respond, but at least he was conscious. His head was bowed against the crook of Kazuma's neck, ragged breaths shuddering against his skin. His hand had tightened painfully around Kazuma's, like he was holding on for dear life, and he slumped awkwardly against his former apprentice's chest.

Kazuma held on while he collected himself. Van Zieks was not a small man, but he felt smaller than usual like this, curled into himself and relying on Kazuma to hold him steady. Or maybe the feeling was quite literal. Kazuma hadn't had the time or presence of mind to remark on it before, but it had been difficult not to notice the bones pressing insistently at the underside of van Zieks's skin while stitching up his arm and doing up the buttons of his shirt. Kazuma wondered if he'd stopped eating along with sleeping as he worked around the clock building this case or if it was an ongoing issue even before that.

Or, perhaps, it was only that Kazuma was the shield this time, and that made him feel bigger than usual. This was the first time he had really been allowed to protect van Zieks in his vulnerability. The first time van Zieks had reached out and leaned on him and held on tight. They had looked after each other for months, but never quite like this.

Then van Zieks pushed away from Kazuma, regaining his feet even as he swayed unsteadily. His eyes shone fever-bright with pain and he was clenching his jaw, but he nodded once. He leaned down to grab at his fallen sword and nearly toppled over again.

Kazuma grabbed him by his uninjured shoulder to brace him upright, then retrieved the sword himself and wiped the blade on one of the assassin's cloaks before offering it back to its owner. Van Zieks slid it into its scabbard just as two bobbies burst into the room.

The effect was instantaneous. A curtain fell over van Zieks's face, wiping away all traces of pain and replacing them with his usual expression of cold irritation. He straightened up, squaring his shoulders and widening his stance enough to look natural while keeping himself upright. In a matter of seconds, he looked perfectly normal, as if he hadn't just been hunched over and shaking in pain.

"About time," he snapped. The reedy, breathy note was gone from his voice. His words were clipped and cold once more. "Kindly take these men into custody. And take Mr. Asogi's statement so that he's free to leave."

Kazuma retreated a few paces to stand beside Norrington, who hovered just inside the room. Norrington watched with a troubled expression as van Zieks ordered the police around.

"It's disconcerting the first time you see it," Kazuma said.

This was the most broken down and vulnerable he had seen van Zieks, but he'd certainly seen the man pull himself together at a moment's notice many a time. As a rule, van Zieks did not show weakness or vulnerability to anyone. Hardly even to Kazuma, although sometimes it happened by necessity. He could wipe any trace of emotion off his face in a split second and fit on the Reaper's mask: cold, unapproachable, indifferent, merciless. If there was anything van Zieks was good at, it was hiding whatever he didn't want the world to see.

"I really thought he was going to pass out, frankly," Norrington said, shaking his head. "I don't know how he does it."

"…Practice, I assume," Kazuma said grimly. "Lots of practice."

"Are you hurt, sir?" one of the officers asked van Zieks uncertainly, eyeing the tear in his coat and the blood pooling across the floor and desk. "Should we call you a carriage to the hospital?"

Van Zieks waved him off impatiently. The gesture carried so much of his usual imperiousness that it would have been easy to miss the way he had switched to using his uninjured arm. He was very good at working around his injuries so subtly that it was hard to notice the adjustments he made when his movements and gestures seemed so normal.

"That won't be necessary," he said. "It's only a flesh wound." Kazuma snorted a little louder than he intended, and van Zieks cut a sharp look his way. "Take Mr. Asogi's statement so he isn't stuck here all night. Let's get this wrapped up. I don't have time for this."

The officer jumped to obey, hurrying over to hear Kazuma's version of events while his partner finished securing the assailants. Kazuma had to explain that he was not injured at all, despite the excessive amount of blood staining his coat, before recounting the tail-end of the fight he'd stumbled across.

A Yard detective rushed in to take charge of the scene just as Kazuma was wrapping up his statement. He and van Zieks immediately fell into urgent conversation.

"No, it was Mr. Asogi who broke in the door," van Zieks was saying in a brisk tone. "One of these ruffians locked it behind him when he came in. I suppose they didn't intend for me to leave."

"It's a bold move to mount an attack in the Prosecutor's Office," the detective said, regarding the men with a frown. One of them had begun to groan and twitch himself awake.

"They've probably been watching for an opportunity. Or grew impatient when I didn't leave the office. I expect they needed to make their move before tomorrow's trial. It doesn't matter. I doubt you'll find any direct link to Mr. Hamel, but see if you can connect them to any of his other accomplices. If we could link them to the case, it would be helpful, but our other investigations take priority. Have you found anything on the last juror?"

"Not yet. He still hasn't cracked, and we didn't find anything when we searched his home. We do have one lead we're following on his wife, and hopefully that will turn something up by morning."

"Well, it doesn't matter. We have confessions from five. That should be enough to throw out the entire jury and select a new one. Focus your efforts on the accomplices, particularly Mr. Saines and Mr. Shelton. They've been tricky, but we can link them to Mr. Hamel through this ridiculous burglary plot he dreamed up."

"Yes, sir, we'll focus our efforts there in the morning." The detective hesitated and added, "Are you well enough to stand in the trial?"

Van Zieks's eyes were flinty and unamused. "Of course. Let's see this through to the end. I trust you can finish up here?"

"Yes, sir. I'll see to things here."

"Good." Van Zieks peeled off his blood-drenched gloves and stuffed them into his pocket, wiping his hands on the cleanest part of his jacket to remove the residue. He shuffled the pages on his desk with quick efficiency, sorting them into stacks and folders before tucking them into a drawer and locking them in. Probably a smart idea, if criminals were breaking into his office now. He turned and raised his eyebrows at Kazuma and Norrington still hovering inside the doorway. "Are you still here? Come along, then. Let's go."

"I'll run ahead and call a carriage," Norrington murmured to Kazuma. "I expect he'll need one."

Kazuma nodded absently, still watching van Zieks for any sign that he was about to fall apart.

Van Zieks headed towards him with his normal brisk, clipped strides, but paused in the doorway and glanced back, snapping his fingers in the direction of one of the bobbies. "You. Make sure my door is replaced immediately."

The officer looked not unlike a startled hare, eyes too big for his face, jumping in fright at being singled out. "Um, but I–"

Van Zieks didn't wait to hear his excuses. "Come, Mr. Asogi."

Kazuma followed, although he felt a slight pang of compassion for the confused officer. Replacing doors was probably not part of his job description, although there would undoubtedly be a new door in place by morning. People didn't generally say no to van Zieks when he issued orders.

Van Zieks kept up his normal punishing pace through the halls, and Kazuma didn't comment. When they stepped outside into the chilly night air, Norrington met them at the door.

"I've called a carriage to take you to your residence, Lord van Zieks," he said. "I caught him at the tail-end of his run. He said he'd be here in five minutes, after wrapping up."

Van Zieks eyed him warily.

Kazuma scowled. "I hope you're not about to say that you're planning on walking."

"…No. I think that would be unwise."

"Almost as unwise as letting yourself get stabbed on purpose," Kazuma muttered. "I bet you're regretting that now."

Van Zieks shot him a look of immense irritation.

"Will you be alright making it home?" Norrington broke in.

"Yes."

"I'll go with him," Kazuma said.

Van Zieks rounded on him with a look of indignant amazement. "You most certainly will not."

"Don't be a hypocrite. You would never let me find my own way home if I was hurt."

"It's not hypocritical at all. At that point in time, I had a responsibility as your mentor to ensure your safety. That is not applicable here."

"You're hiding behind technicalities again. It won't ruin your reputation to admit that it's simply the kind thing to do. You look like you're about to fall over. It would be foolish to send you on alone."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you to stay out of this," van Zieks snapped. "You have already involved yourself in my fights again, despite being expressly forbidden to."

"What was I supposed to do, just let them stab you and hope for the best?"

"And you were already involved in a trial against this organization. Now that I've shaken up the entire ring, the situation is becoming more volatile. Do not draw attention to yourself by being seen with me while I'm embroiled in this case, or someone is going to remember that you were involved as well."

Kazuma threw his hands up in frustration. "Look, if you really don't want me around, then just say so. But first, I'm going to make sure you get home. It would be wildly foolish to send you off into the night in this state."

"I took care of myself before you, Mr. Asogi, and I will do so after."

"With all due respect, My Lord, you aren't taking care of yourself at all. You purposely let yourself be stabbed–"

"That's not–"

"Twice. And I can see your bones, you know."

Van Zieks blinked at Kazuma owlishly, caught off guard. "Pardon?"

Kazuma glowered back. "When's the last time you ate anything?"

Van Zieks stared at him blankly and then looked down at his hands as if he might find an answer written across the skin stretched tight around his bones. His brows drew together in something approaching confusion.

"I…don't remember."

"And you don't think that's a problem?"

Van Zieks looked up again with a scowl. "No? Do you remember everything you eat?"

"I might not remember what I ate for breakfast, but I know that I ate breakfast. When was your last meal?"

Van Zieks's brows drew together again, gears turning behind his eyes. It was disconcerting how genuinely he seemed to be considering the question. How utterly at a loss he was.

"It must have been…" Something sparked in his eyes. "I know I ate with Miss Iris. That was…"

Kazuma stared at him in dismay. "Iris was at the office four days ago."

Van Zieks's face collapsed back into a frown. "No, I'm sure it was–"

"Four days ago. She always visits me too afterwards. It was four days ago."

This only seemed to confuse van Zieks more, and Kazuma was more firmly convinced than ever that he was in shock after all. There was no way he'd be caught so wrong-footed in his right state of mind. He always had a ready answer, something to deflect questions he didn't want to entertain.

"That's not–"

"And you could not possibly justify that as a meal anyway," Kazuma said severely. "She only brings snacks. I don't know why you're fine with starving yourself–"

"I am not," van Zieks broke in heatedly, eyes flashing. "I eat on the go, as I need to, here and there. Maybe not a sit-down meal, but hardly starvation rations."

"Snacking does not count. So you're not eating, and you're obviously not sleeping either, given that it looks like you've got two black eyes. But you think it's reasonable to let you traverse half the city by yourself while you're also injured and suffering from blood loss."

"You're exaggerating," van Zieks said stonily.

"I am not. Don't try to downplay it. There's more blood in your office than there is in your veins right now."

"That is certainly an exaggeration."

Kazuma blew out an aggravated breath and glared back. "Well, what of it? I'm still right."

"I've been busy. I have more important things to do, and I don't have time for this. I'm so close this time… We have to get these people off the streets. If I'm working around the clock, it's only a temporary measure until this mess is sorted out."

"The only thing you're working at is putting yourself in an early grave," Kazuma said darkly. "You can't just neglect your health and work until you drop. You must surely see that you're killing yourself?"

The fire faded from van Zieks's eyes, and for a moment he looked strangely small and forlorn. "It never seemed to matter before," he mumbled in a distant kind of voice. "I always figured some assassin would do me in first."

It was wrenching. Something spooled tight in Kazuma's chest, and he jerked forward a step as if tugged by an invisible string.

"Lord van Zieks–"

Van Zieks turned away, slumping against the wall of the building behind him and pressing his forehead against the rough stone. "For once…" he said, exhausted and bleak and nearly plaintive. "Just this once, could you not argue with me about every single thing? I don't have the energy for it right now."

Kazuma hovered uncertainly, wringing his hands together and wondering what he should do.

"I won't tell you that you're being an utter fool for letting yourself get hurt and neglecting your health–"

"Ever the master of the loophole," van Zieks mumbled with a sigh.

Kazuma gentled his voice with an effort. "But I will insist on accompanying you home. I don't need to go inside if you don't want me to, but I'll feel better if I don't have to worry that you've passed out in a carriage somewhere. I know you're trying to protect me, but this is more important right now."

Van Zieks said nothing, only exhaled in a ragged sigh and slid another few inches down the wall, limp and deflated like all the life had drained out of him along with his fight.

The clatter of hooves and wheels on pavement rang through the hushed streets as a carriage turned the corner. Kazuma looked back at van Zieks and then at Norrington. A troubled crease still furrowed Norrington's brow, but he offered Kazuma a small, tight smile and nodded once.

"It looks like your ride is here, Lord van Zieks," he said jovially. "Why don't you let Mr. Asogi escort you home? You can send him on his way after."

Van Zieks gave a little start and twisted away from the wall to squint at Norrington blearily. "What are you still doing here?"

Norrington laughed softly. "It's a good thing I'm not easily offended, given how little either of you seem to want me around."

"That's not…" Van Zieks trailed off, looking confused again.

"Right," Kazuma said firmly. "You are obviously not in your right mind. I'm coming with you. Are you sure you don't want any laudanum? I can run back and get it."

Van Zieks straightened up abruptly, something sharp and stubborn cutting through his haze. "Absolutely not," he said, sounding more like himself again. "This is already bad enough. I'd like to keep what's left of my faculties intact."

Kazuma blew out an exasperated breath. "I'll make sure you get home either way," he said, but van Zieks was already shaking his head.

"I told you, it's only for emergencies."

"You and I have very different ideas of what constitutes an emergency," Kazuma muttered.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of them, and Norrington went to speak with the driver. Van Zieks watched Kazuma with hooded eyes.

"Mr. Asogi–"

"I'm coming."

"…I don't suppose I could stop you, could I?"

"Probably not in your state, no."

Van Zieks sighed and closed his eyes. "I suppose you will insist on endangering yourself no matter what I do."

"I've a right to make my own choices, My Lord, as much as you do."

"I don't have the energy to argue with you tonight," van Zieks said, sounding very tired again. "Just be aware that mixing yourself up in this, even in such a small way, could prove dangerous for you. If word gets out that you fought beside me and were seen leaving with me, our friends in the Golden Hand may look at you more closely, especially once they remember you already prosecuted one of their own."

"I understand."

"So you need to go straight home after and keep your distance for a while."

"I'll go straight home."

Van Zieks narrowed his eyes, but that was the moment Norrington reappeared around the side of the carriage.

"Everything is set," Norrington said. "If you're planning to stand in the trial tomorrow, you should get some rest while you can. I would suggest eating something as well after losing so much blood."

Van Zieks was apparently feeling enough like himself to look properly aggravated by the unsolicited advice, but he only nodded once. "Thank you for your assistance," he said stiffly. "I will depart now."

"Goodnight," Kazuma said in Norrington's direction.

He climbed into the carriage before van Zieks could find another reason to leave him behind and paused inside the doorway to hold down a hand. Van Zieks regarded it with distaste but took it, and Kazuma helped him navigate the step up into the carriage. Van Zieks collapsed onto the bench, and Kazuma took the seat across from him. The carriage started rolling again almost before they settled themselves.

Van Zieks closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window, and Kazuma watched him quietly for a time, content to let the silence hang.

"I wish you would take better care of yourself," he said finally. "Taking criminals off the street is important, but not so important that you should need to martyr yourself."

Van Zieks sighed. "I thought we weren't going to argue about this tonight."

"I'm not arguing, just making conversation."

"Well, make less of it."

Kazuma laughed softly and looked out the window at the darkened streets rolling by. "Did you know that you've been my lifeline in London from the start? When I had no name or memories, you looked after me and gave me shelter. And you took me back afterwards, even though you didn't want to. No matter how much I pushed at you, you always protected and guided me. Even then, I could always rely on you, and you were the only one. I didn't always realize that then, but later, when we learned how to coexist more peacefully, it was a great comfort to me. I don't trust anyone in London the way I trust you. You've been more than just a professional mentor to me. It's been hard without you."

In the reflection in the glass, Kazuma saw van Zieks lift his head.

"…Mr. Asogi…"

"You don't need to say anything. It just came to my attention recently that I should tell you that. Maybe that will help you understand why I keep trying to convince you to take me back even though I could learn fine from Lord Norrington."

Van Zieks didn't say anything for a long time, but then said, very quietly, "The path that I have chosen to walk is fraught with peril and unhappiness. I would not ask you to accompany me down it."

Kazuma snorted softly. "You never asked me in the first place. First Lord Stronghart forced you to take me on, and then I demanded it. I hope that the next time I'm allowed to walk with you, it will be because you invited me yourself. Because you want me there."

"…You were always welcome, Mr. Asogi. The only one who was, perhaps. My burdens were never lighter than when you walked at my side, and I never resented shouldering yours in return. But I once stood at this crossroads and determined to forge ahead, and this path destroyed me. I would not wish that for you. You should blaze your own trail, somewhere safer."

Kazuma swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists over his knees. There was a lot to unpack there—perhaps more than van Zieks would have given if he were in his proper state of mind.

The assurance that Kazuma had been welcome despite the rocky origins of their partnership was nice, even if it had long been implicitly understood. The acknowledgement of van Zieks's self-destructive spiral, though, sat heavy in Kazuma's chest.

"This incident wasn't related to any lingering Reaper rumors at all, not really. It's just a byproduct of prosecuting cases against powerful and dangerous people. I will face those situations myself sooner or later, whether I'm your apprentice or not."

Van Zieks sighed, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned his head back against the window. "I have always specialized in prosecuting the most vile criminals, particularly the powerful and wealthy and highborn. Partly out of necessity, to ensure only the most reprehensible criminals might be at risk of facing the Reaper's vigilante justice, but also because those are the most dangerous and complicated cases that not everyone is capable of or willing to handle. Someone has to do it. You will face some of these challenges as well, but I should hope not to this degree. I am sure you will go looking for your own high-profile cases in time, but at least for your apprenticeship in a foreign land, it would be best for you to stay in safer waters."

"I will make my own enemies regardless of what I do, in which case I expect it would be safer to face them at your side so that we might watch each other's backs."

"Don't be too eager to make those enemies just yet. There will be plenty of time for it later."

Kazuma sighed long and low and looked back out the window. Van Zieks had been unwilling to budge on this stance for all these weeks, and he was unlikely to finally change his mind tonight.

"Since you are no longer my mentor and have no more responsibility for me, I would humbly request that you worry less about taking care of me and more about taking care of yourself. I will be very unhappy if something happens to you."

"…It seems some responsibilities are not so cleanly shed, for I have yet to encounter one so pressing as this."

"I don't want to be your responsibility. I want to be…" Kazuma searched for the right word and came up blank. He didn't know what he wanted, or at least not how to articulate it.

He might have imagined it in the slightly blurred reflection in the glass, but he thought he caught one corner of van Zieks's mouth quirking upwards.

"I no longer have any professional responsibility towards you whatsoever, Mr. Asogi, but that is not the only kind there is. The most fulfilling responsibilities are often the ones we choose ourselves because our hearts feel called to it. You should know that is not the same thing at all. Let me assure you that there is nothing I do for you that I do because I have to. Of all the things you could rightly resent me for, let it not be for this."

"I don't resent you," Kazuma said, swallowing. This felt like a big admission from van Zieks, who so easily hid kindnesses behind the guise of professional obligation and cold pragmatism. "Not for that, at least. I just…wish you showed half as much care for yourself as you do for me. I worry about you too, you know. I want to help. I want–"

"Please," van Zieks interrupted quietly. "Let's not quarrel anymore tonight."

Kazuma drew in a breath, held it, and then exhaled, leaving his words unsaid. Van Zieks was not in good shape, and they had already pushed well beyond the bounds of comfort tonight. Perhaps this was a conversation best continued at a later date. He let it go for now because van Zieks was hurt and exhausted and stubborn.

The silence hung heavy like a shroud until the carriage lurched to a stop outside the manor a few minutes later.

"Do you want help getting in?" Kazuma asked as van Zieks stirred slowly.

"No. Stay here. I'd rather you not be seen on the grounds. I'll give the driver your address on my way out."

Van Zieks rose to his feet, pausing with a hand pressed to the wall to steady himself. Kazuma watched without comment. As much as he'd like to help, he would let van Zieks take the first stab at it. The man had always preferred to be self-sufficient.

"Goodnight, then," Kazuma sighed. "Be careful."

"Goodnight."

"Oh. We—Lord Norrington and I—didn't have the chance to tell you earlier since you let yourself get stabbed before we could talk to you, but you were amazing in court today. I don't think anyone else could have pulled that off."

"Well, it's not over yet."

"No, but if anyone has a chance, it's you. I hope you get the chance to really stick it to them. Good luck."

"…Thank you." Van Zieks hesitated and then added, "Thank you for tonight. Not for interfering with my battles—you know very well you've been continuously directed to stay out of it—but for helping me afterwards."

Kazuma nearly laughed. Van Zieks would be van Zieks, shock or not.

"You're welcome," he said. "It's the least I could do. Make sure you eat and drink something and get some sleep. And don't let anyone else stab you."

Van Zieks huffed out a breath as he unlatched the door and carefully navigated the step down to the ground. But just before he shut the door again behind him, he said, "I will."