.

Chapter 10

(In which Kazuma forms a lunch club and van Zieks knows more than he should.)

Kazuma got up bright and early the next morning and went straight to the manor. He expected van Zieks would be getting an early start and was determined to catch him before he disappeared on his errands for the day's trial. A saner man might try having the trial postponed or at least rest before it started, but that man was certainly not van Zieks. No, van Zieks would be off running around the Yard and Prosecutor's Office as early as humanly possible, bossing detectives around and questioning witnesses and sorting through paperwork. There was no point trying to reason with him about it.

Kazuma still wasn't sure he'd managed to make it in time when he trotted up the walk, sure van Zieks would be more impatient than ever to get started after having his work disrupted the previous night, but it would have been a great breach of etiquette to show up uninvited any earlier. Van Zieks was already going to be annoyed enough as it was.

The housekeeper opened the door after the first knock. "Mr. Asogi! It's been a while since we've seen you around these parts. What can I do for you?"

"Good morning," Kazuma said politely. "Is Lord van Zieks still here?"

"Yes, if only just. You came just in time. I think he'll be leaving in a few minutes. He has that big case going to trial again today. Shall I tell him you're here?"

"If I could just step inside for a moment, I'll catch him on his way out."

"Very good, sir. Come in." She ushered Kazuma inside and showed him to the sitting room, waving away his protests that he could wait in the foyer. "Nonsense. I'll let Lord van Zieks know you're here. Would you like some tea? If you haven't eaten yet, I can bring you something."

Kazuma perched on the edge of a chair, wishing he could see the staircase from here to be sure van Zieks didn't sneak out past him. "No, I don't think I'll have the time. I'll be leaving with Lord van Zieks. But on that note, did he at least eat some breakfast?"

"Yes, actually. Not very much, but a few bites, at least. He's been looking a bit peaky… We haven't seen much of him lately, what with this case he's been working on. I don't know what he's been eating, but it's certainly not enough!" She looked very put out by this, perhaps because she had a hand in the cooking. "I do hope he'll be around more once this case is over."

"Until the next one."

"Yes, well, we take what we can get. Please give me just one moment…"

She bustled out of the room, and Kazuma's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the arm of the chair as he waited. Out in the foyer, small footsteps pattered up the staircase. A minute later, the clipped ringing of heavy boots came back down.

Kazuma stood, squaring his shoulders, and van Zieks appeared in the doorway a moment later, wearing an unamused expression.

"What are you doing here? I feel my instructions were very clear that you were not to be seen here."

"Ah, but you aren't my mentor anymore," Kazuma said. "So your instructions are really more like suggestions."

Van Zieks's eyes narrowed. "You have always treated them as such when they don't suit you, I suppose."

A brief smile flickered across Kazuma's face. "So then you know there's no point arguing with me. Are you leaving now? I have a carriage waiting outside. I'll accompany you back to the office."

"You–"

"No arguing. You were in bad shape last night. I wanted to make sure you were doing better…and didn't run into any accidents on your way in. Come on. If we move quickly, no one even has to know I was here."

Van Zieks closed his eyes and brought a hand to his face, exhaustion and irritation battling for dominance. He still looked wan and unwell, but his eyes no longer seemed clouded and he moved with more ease.

"I'm fine," he said, dropping his hand. "I don't have time to play games with you this morning… I am very behind after last night's excitement. Come if you insist, but I'm leaving now, and we will go our separate ways when we reach the office."

This was a less belligerent reaction than Kazuma had expected, so he seized on it gratefully. He followed van Zieks out to the carriage and climbed inside, smothering his sense of triumph before the older prosecutor noticed and decided to kick up a fit out of spite.

"You still have a lot to do before the trial, then?" he asked as the carriage started rolling.

"Yes… There is a lot to go over with the Yard, and I need to prepare new witnesses and arguments given the information we've uncovered. The jury will be thrown out and a new one selected and sequestered, at least… Hopefully, that will be enough to stop it from becoming corrupted like the last one."

"Proving the jury was corrupt was a major coup. Lord Norrington couldn't believe it. At least you'll have a fighting chance if they're bringing in new jurors. Do you think you'll be able to pull it off?"

"I don't know yet. I hope so. I should be able to secure a victory in the case, at least in regard to Mr. Hamel. We've been granted a dispensation to include the new attempted murder charges since they are directly linked to the case at hand, and I have enough evidence to get him convicted if there are no more shenanigans with the jury. The real question will be if we can implicate his co-conspirators. We've gathered a great deal of evidence, but it will take something truly decisive to pin them down. It would be safer to focus on Mr. Hamel and clinch the victory, but I'll try to hamstring the entire organization if I have half a chance."

"I suppose you might as well go for it. It's the best chance we've had."

"Yes. That's the idea."

Kazuma eyed him sidelong. He wanted to ask if van Zieks was truly alright after yesterday, if the stitches were holding up, if he'd been able to eat and sleep last night, if he was truly fit to prosecute the trial today. But van Zieks could never stand fussing. Kazuma held his peace—for now.

He waited until the carriage pulled up to the office before fishing a sandwich wrapped in wax paper from his pocket. "Here. In case you can't find time in your busy schedule to look for food. Make sure you eat before the trial starts."

There was a very real chance that van Zieks would refuse this offering, but after looking between Kazuma and the proffered sandwich, he hesitantly reached out and accepted it.

"Thank you," he said, subdued. "I will. But stop fussing."

Kazuma laughed softly. "Good luck today. Make sure you win."

Van Zieks opened the door and stepped out into the street without a backwards look, slipping the sandwich beneath his cloak. "I intend to."

Kazuma practically dragged Norrington out of the courtroom when the gavel came down, vibrating with excitement.

"I can't believe he did it," Norrington marveled, following him through the crowds.

The Old Bailey was seething with activity. After the excitement of yesterday's trial, the building had been packed top to bottom today for the second round. Now it was a riot of people, the air filled with rapid-fire chatter as everyone debated the trial.

Van Zieks had been right that Hamel was just about finished. That had been nailed down in the first twenty minutes. The real battle came after, a whirlwind of too much testimony and evidence to keep track of as the prosecution and defense volleyed back and forth with rising intensity. When the dust finally settled, fully four additional people had been implicated in the crime ring—all the important players van Zieks had focused on.

It was a major upset. Even Kazuma, who knew firsthand how impressive van Zieks's skills were and had complete faith in his ability, was surprised by how solid the victory was. The sheer amount of work that had obviously gone into the case, both by van Zieks and the Yard, the reams of evidence painstakingly collected over months and the web of testimony teased out and sorted through… It was nothing short of miraculous that enough evidence had been scraped together to prop up such a far-reaching case built on what should have been a single robbery and murder with a single suspect.

Kazuma had had a small taste of how complicated the situation was when he'd investigated and prosecuted the Privet case, but even then he'd only been involved in a very small part. Witnessing the death knell of the organization he'd briefly struggled against and that van Zieks had been pursuing for months felt wildly satisfying.

Kazuma strained to see above the heads of the crowd flooding out of the courtroom, going so far as to stand inelegantly on tiptoe to gain an extra inch or two. Not for the first time, he wished he were a little taller. Van Zieks was tall enough for the both of them, though, so he shouldn't be too hard to find.

"He's there," Norrington said. "Outside the prosecutor's antechamber."

Of course. Kazuma turned his head and spotted van Zieks standing just outside the door of the antechamber, pressed against the wall to avoid the crowds. He was surrounded by a gaggle of detectives, including the one he'd been speaking with after the trial yesterday and the attack last night, and they seemed as worked up as everyone else, faces open and beaming as they gestured widely and talked rapidly. Kazuma had never seen anyone but Iris or Sholmes talk to van Zieks with such open excitement and good cheer. Indeed, van Zieks himself seemed vaguely discomfited, arms crossed over his chest as he eyed his entourage warily and offered the occasional terse response.

Kazuma couldn't hear their discussion over the thunderous babble of bystanders filling the air, but as he wove through the crowds and drew closer, he eventually picked it out from the rest of the noise.

"Amazing work," the detective from before was saying, grinning widely and looking terribly pleased with himself. "After all these months of investigation, I can't believe we finally have them on the ropes!"

"You said that already," van Zieks said, looking more irritated than pleased by his victory.

"It's just so exciting, that's all!"

"You said that already too," he muttered. "About five times."

All the detectives chuckled at that, which only made van Zieks look more disconcerted by their good cheer.

"Hear that?" one of the others said good-naturedly. "You talk too much. He can't help it, sir, really. Get him worked up, and he suddenly has to repeat everything half a dozen times."

"It's worth repeating," the first said with a laugh.

Van Zieks looked like he was ready to shake the detectives off and make his escape back to the heavy silence of his office, and the urge only became more pronounced on his features when he spotted Kazuma and Norrington wading towards him.

"Congratulations!" Norrington said enthusiastically. "That was impressive work. I'll admit that I wasn't sure even you'd be able to pull it off, but it looks like Mr. Asogi was right."

Van Zieks glanced at Kazuma and quirked an eyebrow.

Kazuma shrugged. "I thought you might manage it. Amazing you were able to wrap it up so neatly, though."

"Due in large part to the diligence of the Yard," van Zieks said. "They've been putting in long hours. And in some part to yourself as well, I believe. The Privet case cracked an opening that we were able to leverage."

"Wonderful work from everybody!" the first detective said. "It's been months in the making. You were quite right to push the Yard to take this more seriously. Took forever before we were granted the leeway to investigate so thoroughly, but it's as good as dead now. Lots of mopping up to do, but I think the worst is over."

"Mopping up?" Kazuma repeated.

"Everyone implicated today will face their own official charges and trials," van Zieks said. "And one of the ringleaders will be drawn up on separate charges. We don't have enough to link him to the ring directly yet, but one of the assassins he sent last night was foolish enough to keep papers bearing his seal in his pocket. Since he's being brought in on those charges, it will give us more latitude to poke around for evidence pointing back to the Golden Hand while investigating. Once those five are put away, I expect the rest of the ring will dissolve unless some smaller player tries taking it over. The Yard will be busy rounding up what rabble they can and making sure none rise to try resurrecting the ring."

"You'll be prosecuting the corollary trials too, won't you?" the detective asked more seriously.

"Yes, I'll see this through to the end. Although it may be deemed appropriate for someone else to step in for the solicitation of murder trial, given my immediate involvement. I will still be involved in the investigations, though. Beyond that, I trust the Yard will be able to handle the cleanup itself. Charges brought against lesser members can be referred to other prosecutors."

"Oh, of course! Wouldn't want to waste your valuable time with these small matters we can handle ourselves. It will be a relief to have you on the bigger cases, though."

Kazuma frowned. "You're still planning to prosecute another…four or five related cases?"

"Yes, of course," van Zieks said. "I've already been involved in the investigations and built the cases for them. I'll try to push them through trial quickly."

"Going to still be a busy few weeks," the detective said with a sigh.

"You've already been attacked twice related to this case," Kazuma said. "Aren't you worried there might be other attacks if you're still the figurehead of the push against the organization?"

Van Zieks shrugged. "It's possible. I expect the threat is lessened with the main ringleaders imprisoned."

Kazuma didn't like this at all. Van Zieks was bold to take on an entire criminal organization largely by himself, or at least to be the public face of the attack while Scotland Yard worked behind the scenes. It had already proven dangerous and would likely continue to be so.

"Don't worry!" the detective said. "We're increasing security at the office after last night's attack and adding another beat around Lord van Zieks's manor. If you'd like, we could have an officer accompany you for a while as well."

Van Zieks stared at him. "…None of that is necessary. Please do not have anyone follow me around."

"Well, we have to up the security at the office regardless, on the Lord Chief Justice's orders. It's spooked everyone that assassins got into the building. The officer around the house won't bother you any either. Guess it's a little restrictive to have someone tail you, though."

"You'd better be careful with that," Kazuma said dryly. "Lord van Zieks is more likely to assume anyone shadowing him is an enemy rather than a friend, and you wouldn't want your men getting stabbed."

Van Zieks shot him an exasperated look. "…As he says. In any case, I have a great deal of work to do and would prefer not to be disturbed unless necessary. I need to finish the paperwork for this case today. I will stop by the Yard tomorrow to discuss strategy for the upcoming investigations."

"The paperwork could probably wait until tomorrow too," Kazuma muttered, but he didn't suppose van Zieks would be willing to take a day off to recuperate when he'd just given himself several more cases to work on. At least paperwork wasn't too physically demanding.

"It cannot," van Zieks said with finality. "It will be the basis of the other cases, and we need to put things in motion."

"I'd think you might be a bit more pleased," Norrington mused. "This was an impressive win for you. Shouldn't you be a little more excited?"

"I am pleased," van Zieks said stiffly, although he didn't look like it. Kazuma suspected his injuries and exhaustion were taking more of a toll on him than he let on. Maybe he'd take greater satisfaction in his victory once he was feeling better. "I don't do 'excited', and there's little time to celebrate when there's still so much to be done."

"That's Lord van Zieks for you," Kazuma said with a sly smile. "Always sucking the fun out of everything."

"Mr. Asogi!" Norrington said disapprovingly, but a couple of the detectives had to cough to hide snorts of laughter.

"Thank you, as always, for your insightful commentary," van Zieks said dryly. "Go have fun at someone else's expense and stop bothering me with it."

But the look in his eyes was more fondly exasperated than truly annoyed. When he brushed past Kazuma to go about his business, he pressed something into his hand that turned out to be a crumpled wad of wax paper that might once have contained a sandwich, and Kazuma had to laugh.

The next couple of weeks were an exercise in annoying van Zieks as much as humanly possible. Kazuma, concerned about possible attacks, especially while van Zieks was still seriously injured, took to running across his former mentor whenever possible. He went to the manor the first few mornings, intent on accompanying van Zieks to the office to make sure nothing untoward happened along the way. This did not amuse van Zieks at all, and his exasperation turned very quickly to genuine anger.

"Get out!" he snarled on the third day, gripping Kazuma's upper arm hard enough to leave bruises and bodily dragging him out of the manor. "If I catch you back here again, I will personally campaign to have you shipped back to your homeland."

He looked just about angry enough to mean it too, although Kazuma still—mostly—believed he wouldn't do it. Kazuma did try going back once more, but the housekeeper met him at the door and turned him away, sympathetic but firm. He was just leery enough of van Zieks's ill temper to take the loss, at least for the time being.

His campaign to accompany van Zieks home in the evenings met with similar misfortune. Van Zieks took one look at him and refused point-blank to leave the office for the night until Kazuma left first. Kazuma tried to call the bluff, but van Zieks merely set his mouth in a grim line and went back to his work.

"I have plenty to occupy myself with," he said flatly. "I can outlast you."

Indeed, Kazuma quickly grew bored and then realized this was a losing game no matter how he looked at it. He wanted van Zieks to leave the office earlier, not even later, and the man was so stubborn on this matter that he was unlikely to budge.

Kazuma tried the subtler approach of following at a distance, but it wasn't long before he lost sight of his quarry and then suddenly found himself at the end of a sword held by none other than van Zieks himself, who looked at first startled to uncover the identity of his pursuer and then more livid than Kazuma had ever seen him.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" van Zieks demanded. "You know better than this. Don't let me catch you skulking around again. Go home."

In short, van Zieks was in a truly foul temper, and it was largely Kazuma's fault. It would be easier to give up on the entire venture, but the concern was that attacks were most common when van Zieks was out in the streets, particularly at night. It would be impossible for Kazuma to track him during the day when he was constantly out and about—no bed rest for him, apparently—bouncing between the Prosecutor's Office and Scotland Yard and the coroner's office and the jail and miscellaneous locations under investigation. His morning and evening commutes were not always reliable either, but they were easier to predict. There had been another attempted attack on one of these jaunts, although van Zieks had fended it off and escaped unscathed. No evidence had been uncovered to link the incident to the Golden Hand, but everyone assumed they were related. Kazuma worried about him, with all the open investigations still ongoing.

But while Kazuma despaired of finding a way to watch van Zieks's back in the streets, there was one part of his campaign that saw some measure of success. It was quite clever, actually, or at least he liked to think so. He had started trying to catch van Zieks in the office around lunchtime, bringing food to share with him. This would not offer any meaningful protection against assassination attempts, which was perhaps why it met with more success than more direct methods. The entire point of sending Kazuma away in the first place had been to protect him from such things, after all, and van Zieks's fury undoubtedly stemmed at least partly from Kazuma undermining that goal by purposely seeking out danger. Sharing lunches didn't solve the immediate problem, but it served the dual purpose of making sure van Zieks was actually eating meals and forcing him to endure Kazuma's presence.

"What do you think you're doing?" van Zieks asked the first time Kazuma appeared in his doorway with a bag of food in hand.

This was actually Kazuma's third attempt at catching him, since he had apparently been out on errands during regular lunch hours the previous two days. Van Zieks's ever-present irritation with his former apprentice simmered quietly but didn't explode just yet. He looked more nonplussed than anything.

"I've brought food," Kazuma said, shaking the bag in his direction.

"I see that. Why?"

"I thought we could have lunch together."

"That's really not–"

"I can hardly eat it all myself. You wouldn't make me waste the food, would you? My stipend isn't big enough to afford that."

Van Zieks stared at Kazuma for a long moment before bringing his hand to his face in a resigned gesture. "Shut the door behind you."

Gleeful at the prospect of finally coming out on top, Kazuma shut the door and crossed the room with a spring in his step. He carelessly swept aside a number of papers strewn across the desk, ignoring van Zieks's wince, and began taking out the food.

"I assume you haven't eaten lunch yet," he said cheerily. "No, of course not. I'm sure you've been much too busy to eat."

Van Zieks sighed. "Mr. Asogi… Why are you doing this?"

"Because I just know you aren't going to eat unless I make you."

"Not that. After all I've warned you and pushed you away, after how angry you've been with me and how I've tried so hard to keep you at a distance… Why do you keep coming back?"

Kazuma paused and studied his face. Van Zieks both looked and sounded exhausted and defeated and, perhaps, vaguely baffled.

"My Lord… If you haven't figured that out yet, then I doubt you'd believe me even if I told you."

"It would be easier to just give up on it, you know," van Zieks muttered. "I've given you little enough reason to keep coming around. You're wasting your time."

Kazuma huffed out a soft breath. "You've never given up on me," he said with finality. "Not even when you had every reason to write me off. And so I won't give up on you."

If anything, this only seemed to bewilder van Zieks more, but he gave up with a sigh and waved a hand dismissively. "Just eat your lunch and be on your way."

Kazuma did so, watching while van Zieks poured over paperwork and occasionally took an absent bite of food when prodded. Van Zieks would offer short responses to conversational overtures, but for the most part, Kazuma was content to eat his own food quietly. He didn't intend to disrupt van Zieks's schedule too much, and he suspected the man would be more likely to eat if he could be working at the same time. It was better than nothing.

Kazuma took advantage of this unexpected concession to return and try his hand at it again. Van Zieks seemed just as nonplussed the second time, but the third time Kazuma appeared in the doorway with food in hand, he noticed that his old chair was tucked against the wall in the corner again, waiting for him. It felt like a welcome, or at least a peace offering. He dragged it over to the desk, unable to stop his face from breaking into a grin, and settled himself in it more comfortably while he presented the day's offerings and peppered van Zieks with questions about how his cases were coming along. Van Zieks sighed in exasperation but deigned to answer. Neither of them acknowledged the reappearance of the chair.

The success with the lunches might have given Kazuma a little too much confidence. One day, on his way out to the coroner's office to fetch an updated autopsy report on Norrington's behalf, he spotted van Zieks ahead of him, striding briskly down the street and turning in the opposite direction. Kazuma made a snap decision to abandon his errand and follow. He barely made it down one street before van Zieks's uncanny knack for noticing suspicious people following him kicked in.

Kazuma held very still and blinked rapidly in surprise as the tip of a sword appeared at his throat. He'd barely even seen van Zieks whirl around and cross the distance between them.

"Well, hello," he said with an awkward chuckle.

Van Zieks's eyes flashed dangerously, and he seemed to be trembling with barely restrained fury. "You."

He sheathed his sword. The next thing Kazuma knew, van Zieks had clamped a hand around his arm and begun dragging him back the way they'd come, ignoring spluttered protests. Van Zieks marched Kazuma down the street and back into the Prosecutor's Office, stalking straight to Norrington's office.

Norrington looked up, his eyes going wide with surprise. "What on earth…?"

"You're hurting me," Kazuma snarled as van Zieks marched him right up to the desk. "Let go."

Van Zieks dropped his hand away, but he was looking at Norrington, not Kazuma.

"Your apprentice has been stalking me for days," he said furiously. "Kindly keep him under control."

Norrington sighed heavily, his surprise melting into tired exasperation. "Again, Mr. Asogi? I told you from the start not to bother Lord van Zieks."

"I'm not doing anything!" Kazuma said defensively. "It's a free city. I can walk wherever I want."

"You will cease this nonsense at once," van Zieks snapped. "I sent you away in the first place so that you wouldn't be involved with these things. Stop looking for trouble."

"What a hypocrite," Kazuma muttered, rubbing at his aching arm. "I guess it's fine for you to wander off by yourself and get attacked. I know there was another incident a few days ago."

"Precisely why you should stay out of it. This is still a volatile situation, and you should steer clear of it until things settle."

"I don't need you to order me around. You aren't my mentor anymore, as you like to remind me. If you can go getting into trouble–"

"That's exactly why!" van Zieks snarled, slamming a fist down on Norrington's desk loudly enough to make its owner jump. "I wish someone had knocked some sense into me before I got in too deep. But of course, my mentor was too busy destroying everyone I'd ever loved and framing me for murder. I was just like you once, Mr. Asogi, and I'll be damned if I sit here and watch you make the same mistakes without saying something about it. If you truly wish to turn yourself into an isolated, mistrustful man jumping at shadows so badly, I am certain there are less perilous ways to do it. You will face your own share of dangers in the world without chasing after mine. Keep your head down, complete your apprenticeship, and then you can decide which dangers are worth risking."

Kazuma stared at him, his resentment simmering down, and wondered if he'd been wrong all along. The thought had occurred to him that he was merely a charity case for van Zieks, that the man had only tolerated him as penance to his father or saw Genshin in his face every time they locked eyes, but maybe that wasn't it. Somehow, that seemed even more bittersweet.

"I'm not you," Kazuma said quietly.

"You certainly are not." Van Zieks's tone was still clipped, but his gaze slid away and the worst of his wrath had been tamped back down. "But I know where this path leads. From the start, my only real choices were to shoulder the Reaper's mantle or give up my profession entirely. I did not have the option of a safe path here, which is what I have tried to give you. You have a choice that I never did, Mr. Asogi. Do not squander it."

Kazuma had nothing to say to that. He was still frustrated, but he also felt strangely deflated, the fight drained out of him. The silence stretched on for a few uncomfortable seconds before Norrington cleared his throat.

"Mr. Asogi," he said delicately, "perhaps you might fetch that report from Dr. Gorey now? Lord van Zieks, if I might have a word…?"

Kazuma left, figuring he'd already ignored enough direct orders for the day. He did linger outside for a moment, hoping to catch some hint of what van Zieks and Norrington might be discussing, but was soundly rebuffed.

"Eavesdropping is unbecoming, Mr. Asogi," van Zieks said loudly from inside. "Perhaps you might do as you're told for once and follow your mentor's directions."

Kazuma scowled and plodded off to the coroner's office. By the time he returned with the requested report, van Zieks was gone and Norrington was working away at his desk again.

Norrington looked up at his entrance and put down his pen, steepling his fingers on the tabletop. "You know what I'm going to say, don't you?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Don't bother Lord van Zieks," Kazuma muttered, dropping the report on the desk.

Norrington smiled faintly. "Correct. Don't harass the man. He has enough on his plate already. Especially don't follow him around in the streets or show up at his private residence. He was very insistent on that, and he's quite right. That's not appropriate behavior. That said… He said you could continue taking lunches with him in the office discreetly if you'd like. I suppose that's where you've been running off to all week."

Kazuma frowned, surprised. "He said that?"

"I believe his exact words were something along the lines of 'I don't like negotiating with terrorists, but he's too stubborn to back off entirely, and I suppose that's the least terrible thing he could do.'"

Kazuma snorted loudly, fighting the urge to smile as the corners of his mouth fluttered, and somehow that punctured the last of his anger and made it evaporate, at least for the time being.

"Always so dramatic."

Norrington raised his eyebrows, mouth quirking into a smile. "You two do make a most complementary pair."

The anniversary of his father's death dawned much like any other day. Kazuma sat by the window in his apartment for a long time, staring out at the dreary gray sky. He felt more numb than anything, far away and untethered with a hollow ache in his chest. Maybe he had spent his grief all those months ago when he'd found out the truth and mourned his father all over again, and now the sharpness of it was dulled. Maybe it was just gathering in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

For now, everything felt still, trapped in suspense. The pain radiating from his chest was not the excruciating, blinding kind that left him gasping, but the ragged sawing of a dull blade slowly chipping pieces away.

Kazuma wished there was someone who might understand, someone he might talk to. But he didn't know what he would say anyway, or if he wanted to share the ugly hole yawning wide inside him. His father was gone, never returned home after all those years spent waiting for him, and Kazuma would never be able to talk to him again. His mother was dead, his memory of her fraying at the edges. Mikotoba, much a surrogate parent, was halfway across the world. Ryunosuke and Susato were off on their own adventures too, and Kazuma had never been able to bring himself to share much of his past or inner feelings with them to start with, afraid of losing their respect and friendship if he let his darkness show.

He had more letters from them, the paper already worn soft and leathery from frequent handling, endlessly creased and smoothed out again. He had read them a dozen times, his fingers tracing the words along with his eyes. He missed his friends. Their kind words and thoughtful advice meant a great deal to him, and the recountings of their own misadventures made him smile. He had yet to start his replies. He had been so consumed with van Zieks's recent trials and tribulations that he hadn't known what else to speak of, and it didn't seem wise to write entire letters only about that. He didn't think his friends would understand whatever relationship he'd developed with his old mentor. Even he didn't understand it half the time, and they'd never seen van Zieks's softer side the way Kazuma had. Kazuma would write to them soon, but after the immediate dangers had passed and he'd had time to gather his thoughts.

He tried reading the letters again, searching for some comfort from home, but today they only made him feel more alone. He put them away with a sigh and pulled out the pictures instead.

He lingered over the photograph of his father holding Karuma, fingers hovering above it without quite touching. Both were lost to him now, broken nearly beyond recognition, although he had at least the chance of regaining Karuma one day if he proved himself worthy of wielding the family blade again.

He had a hard time looking at Klint van Zieks playing chess against his father. There was too much dramatic irony locked inside the photograph—the murderer and the person who would stop him but be destroyed in the process. Genshin was winning the match, but although he had won the duel in real life too, he had ultimately come out the loser.

Kazuma ignored Klint in the last picture as well, but he stared at his father and van Zieks frozen in cheerful conversation on the steps of the Old Bailey. There was another bit of irony here, he was sure of it. For a moment, he felt his old bitterness flare up again. If van Zieks had just tried harder, looked closer, trusted a friend more…

Kazuma drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes, tamping the resentment back down. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that van Zieks was not responsible for his father's death, no matter what mistakes he might have made. It had still taken a long time to let go of that anger anyway, even knowing that van Zieks hadn't set the trap or baited it or pulled the trigger, and Kazuma didn't like that it had resurfaced now, even if only for a moment. He had spent too many dark days wallowing in his vindictive fury, and he did not want to go back. But the feeling had faded, and he hoped that meant he had grown since then after all.

He looked at the picture again and was struck by a sudden curiosity. He wanted to know what his father and van Zieks had been talking about. What had made van Zieks's eyes light in admiration like that and left his expression soft and open? What had made Genshin's lips curl into a smile and encouraged him to lean in closer? Kazuma was hungry to know the story behind this picture, this conversation. He wanted to know the stories behind the other pictures too, but especially this one.

Then he glanced at the clock and sighed. He was late.

It was hard to summon up the energy to care overmuch about his tardiness. He got ready with slow, mechanical movements, his feet dragging the whole way. By the time he made it to the office, he was fully an hour late.

Norrington's eyebrows drew together as Kazuma dragged himself into the room. He was too agreeable to scold his apprentice for his lateness unless it created a real problem, but he did look faintly concerned.

"Good morning, Mr. Asogi. You know, you've been working so hard lately that I thought you might have earned yourself a break."

Kazuma frowned. "Break?"

"We're between cases, and I have little work for you to do. This would be the perfect time for you to take a day off to rest and recharge, so to speak. Only if you want to, of course. It's really up to you."

Kazuma stared at him very hard, wondering if he somehow knew what today was. That didn't seem like the kind of thing Norrington should know unless he had deliberately gone looking for the information. So perhaps it was only a coincidence, although he was looking very awkward about his own proposal.

"I'll work on some old case files," Kazuma said, drifting to his desk.

"Ah… Of course. Whatever you'd like."

Kazuma hoped that work would keep his mind off his gloomier thoughts, but he found it difficult to concentrate and kept catching himself staring off into space, his mind far away. Norrington kept glancing at him as well, so he'd obviously noticed his apprentice's distraction.

A couple of hours in, Kazuma sighed and gave up.

"I think I'll take an early lunch," he said, rising from the floor and stretching out his limbs.

"Perhaps you might take off the rest of the afternoon as well," Norrington suggested. "Get some sun. You've been cooped up in here too much, and these old files aren't so important that they can't wait."

This time, Kazuma nodded. "Maybe I will."

He wandered out of the office, but the truth was that he wasn't very hungry either. He just needed something to do. Something other than case files, which weren't enough to keep his attention right now.

He wished fervently that Ryunosuke was here, or maybe Susato. He wished even more strongly, with a sharp pang that took his breath away, that he could talk to his father. None of those were an option.

But there was one person left he might go to. Maybe it wouldn't be the same, but it was something.

He went to fetch lunch after all. It would serve as his cover, whether he was hungry or not. He walked quickly now, tension and anticipation spurring him forwards. Van Zieks had suddenly become very reliable at being in his office during the time Kazuma usually appeared, two or three times a week, with lunch in hand. But this was not the usual time, and there was a very real chance that he was running around on some investigation. The thought made a bleak feeling knife through Kazuma. He needed van Zieks to be there, if only to convince himself that there was still someone else in this city who remembered his father and understood his grief, even if they didn't talk about it.

When he threw open the door, though, van Zieks was seated at his desk, piles of reports strewn in front of him. He was not reading them. He had propped his elbow on the desk and buried his face in his hand, eyes closed. Exhausted, probably, from all the late nights.

"Be careful, Mr. Asogi," he said without opening his eyes. "Don't break my door again."

Kazuma pulled a face but closed the door more gently behind him. "How do you always know it's me even without looking?"

"Who else would come bursting into my office without knocking?"

Kazuma supposed that was fair enough. Most people would be too afraid of van Zieks to dare.

"I brought lunch."

Van Zieks sighed and lifted his head as Kazuma dragged the chair over. "You're early."

"I was bored."

The food sat untouched on the desk between them. Neither of them seemed particularly eager to eat it.

Van Zieks was not quite looking at Kazuma, his gaze slightly lowered. He looked stiff, like every muscle in his body was tensed, and the shadows hollowing his eyes looked darker than ever. The silence stretched long and brittle between them, each of them waiting for something.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Asogi?" van Zieks asked finally, when it became clear that Kazuma had no idea how to continue the conversation either.

Kazuma thought suddenly that the way van Zieks had braced himself looked very much like the way he might prepare for an attack. Perhaps it was the tension of waiting for Kazuma to lash out at him, the way he would have once. Kazuma had always been good at alchemizing his pain and grief into anger. He had always been good at holding grudges. And van Zieks had always made an easy scapegoat.

So van Zieks knew too, then. Of course he did.

"Did you tell Lord Norrington about today?" Kazuma asked. "He kept suggesting I take the day off."

"I didn't tell him anything specific," van Zieks said slowly, choosing his words with care like Kazuma was a ticking time bomb that might explode at any moment. "Merely that it might be a difficult day for you and he might consider giving you the option of taking it off if you desired."

Kazuma let out his breath in a long sigh. Maybe he had grown up after all. A few months ago, he might have lashed out again, and van Zieks would have been right to be wary. But they'd come so far since those old days of digging their claws into each other and tearing each other down. Kazuma couldn't summon up that old wrath. It was never van Zieks he had been angry at, not really—only a shadow he had imposed upon the man before knowing better.

"Can I ask you something?"

"…I don't suppose I could stop you."

Kazuma pulled the photograph from his pocket, where he'd tucked it away like a good luck charm, and slid it across the desk. "Do you remember when this was taken? Do you know what you were talking about? I…want to know what he said."

As a rule, they did not talk about his father. Kazuma had not worked up the courage to ask van Zieks about the photographs before. But maybe this was the time.

Van Zieks stared at the picture for a long time, at Genshin and his younger self conversing through smiles while his brother stood stiffly off to the side, the only one posed for the camera.

"No," he said finally. "I'm sorry. It was so long ago, and we had so many conversations."

"Oh." Kazuma wasn't entirely surprised, but disappointment washed over him anyway. "That's alright. I just wondered."

"…I could tell you something else."

Kazuma frowned at him. "Like what?"

Van Zieks still wasn't looking at him, more absorbed by the photograph. "I don't remember this particular conversation, but I remember the rhythm of them. He might have been telling me about some case he was working on, and I would try very hard to come up with some insightful idea to help him, and he would smile and praise me for them even though I'm sure he already thought of those things first. Or maybe he was saying that something was done very differently here than in his homeland, and I asked a thousand questions so that he would give me lessons on Japanese culture.

"Or maybe he was telling me about the way his son stumbled over his words when he spoke too fast yet always managed to talk himself out of trouble anyway, or about the time he courageously but foolishly climbed a tree to look inside a bird's nest and broke his arm when he fell, or about how quickly he picked up the art of the sword despite his age and how clever his mind was."

Kazuma flinched back as if struck. "What…?"

"I suppose I ought to have warned you that I already knew a great deal about you before you ever took to haunting my office." Van Zieks finally looked up to meet Kazuma's thunderstruck gaze. "Your father spoke about Japan frequently because he was homesick. He spoke about your mother because he missed her. And he spoke about you. It was always something. Kazuma once snuck a mouse into his room and fed it for days before his mother found it and nearly had a heart attack. Kazuma once decided to go on a grand adventure and ran away from home, but he somehow walked in a giant circle and ended up back on our doorstep with the most confused look on his face. Kazuma is so kind and bright for his age, and I'm looking forward to seeing him grow into the best of men."

Kazuma opened his mouth, closed it again. His ribcage was constricting about his chest, his heart squeezing tighter and tighter. He had forgotten about the mouse he'd found out playing and brought home as a secret pet, and about the way his mother had shrieked when it ran across her foot. He'd been so young then. He remembered falling out of a tree and breaking his arm, a very long time ago. He didn't remember setting off on any grand adventure until the day he'd boarded a steamship bound for England, but it seemed likely if van Zieks had been right about everything else.

Everything felt too big inside him, the edges too sharp.

"He was very proud of you," van Zieks said gently, regarding Kazuma with uncommonly soft, melancholy eyes. "He loved you very much and missed you beyond measure. He knew that you would grow into an exceptional and honorable man, and he was right. Never doubt that, Mr. Asogi. His heart was always with you."

Kazuma hunched over as if he might somehow curl into himself and disappear, as if that might stop the bittersweet pain from shuddering through him when he thought of his father boasting about him from halfway across the world. His breathing sounded too loud in his ears, too ragged and hitching, and his eyes burned. He had never considered that his father might have told van Zieks about him aside from some passing comment, and he had certainly never expected van Zieks to carefully hand those sentiments back to him like a gift, returning some piece of his father to him.

"I…"

"And then Klint would have laughed and said something embarrassing about me," van Zieks said in a faintly exasperated tone, his gaze sliding away again. "Oh, that's just like the time Barok decided to slide down the stair railing backwards and broke his arm when he fell. You've got more nerve than sense, don't you? And I could have said that he was the one who dared me to go down backwards in the first place and spent weeks fussing over me because he felt so bad about it, but I wouldn't, because I looked up to him so much that I'd never say anything against him. Your father would try very hard not to laugh, but he would always say something to make me feel better about it or change the subject. That's…basically the way those conversations went."

His words had started off almost light, an attempt to reintroduce some dry humor and distance to a heavy conversation, but they quickly took on a wistful edge, followed by thinly veiled melancholy. Van Zieks stared down at the photograph, his eyes clouded over and murky, and Kazuma finally understood that his weary posture was not merely exhausted but broken.

"You must have lost your brother around this time too," Kazuma said, the realization dawning on him. It seemed somehow easier to focus on that than to address everything said about his father.

"…Yes. Last week."

He should have realized. Klint van Zieks would have been killed shortly before Kazuma's father was brought to trial and murdered. This would be a difficult time for van Zieks too.

"I don't think much of him," Kazuma admitted. He might have matured in his esteem of van Zieks, but the very thought of the man's brother still put a bitter taste in his mouth. "But you obviously cared about him a lot, so… I'm sorry."

Van Zieks was still staring at the picture, lips pressed tightly together, and Kazuma couldn't tell if he was looking at Klint or Genshin.

"I'm sorry too," he said after a brief but loaded pause. He sounded bleak, defeated. "There is no way for me to undo the mistakes I made or return to you what you have lost. If there were a way to fix this, then I would, but that is cold comfort when such a thing is impossible. I can offer you nothing but my sympathies and the hope that you will be able to make peace with the damage we have wrought."

The admission of guilt and bleak remorse brought Kazuma no satisfaction, only a sick feeling churning in the pit of his stomach. Van Zieks had made his mistakes, but he had not had the ultimate responsibility for his father's fate. Something about his penitence rubbed Kazuma the wrong way—the feeling that van Zieks's actions were driven by guilt and the memory of a man who was not Kazuma at all.

"You said that when you agreed to resume my apprenticeship, it wasn't because of my father."

Van Zieks blinked at him in surprise, startled into meeting his eyes again. "And it wasn't. As I said, there is nothing I can do for him. In any case… I was still not feeling very charitable towards him then. I would not have done him any favors if I could, no matter how heavily my conscience weighed on me."

Kazuma frowned, mind churning. "He still killed your brother."

"Yes." Van Zieks looked away again. "That has been difficult for me to forgive, although it might seem silly to you. Still… While I don't agree with his actions, he was pushed there because of Klint's and Lord Stronghart's terrible deeds. If they had not fallen first, he would not have followed. And he was…trying to help Klint too, in his own way. I have tried to make my peace with that. Whatever resentment I might hold… I was in the wrong as well, and he was my friend once. But it was all still very fresh back then, when you first asked me."

"Because I reminded you of yourself, then."

Van Zieks snorted softly. "Perhaps," he said, sounding vaguely amused. "A more likely explanation. It seems to me that we often transfer our feelings for one person to another, whenever we see commonalities. Sometimes they become hard to separate. But truly, that would not endear you to me. I have few particularly likable qualities.

"Have you considered that perhaps it was simply that I had already known you? You were already my apprentice. We had already worked together. Could it not just be that I had already grown to care for you and decided to give you a second chance, despite my better judgment, out of respect for that? As I said, I agreed because you asked me to."

Kazuma stared at him. Van Zieks had been considerate enough in those early days, in a grumpy, brusque sort of way that was easy to overlook, but he'd given little indication of caring for his silent apprentice overmuch.

"You never acted like you liked me."

One corner of van Zieks's mouth quirked upwards. "I never do. It would tarnish my reputation."

Kazuma huffed out a soft laugh that caught him off guard. He hadn't thought he'd find any excuse for amusement today, much less that van Zieks would be the one to offer it.

There were a lot of things Kazuma could say to this. He could press his advantage and ask to have his apprenticeship transferred again, but even if van Zieks did agree—unlikely, after all this time—Kazuma wouldn't want his decision to be motivated by guilt and grief. Today was not the day for taking advantage. He could ask more about his father, but his throat already felt very thick, and he did not want to break down crying here. He could try to articulate his feelings, but they were a messy maelstrom he had no hope of untangling right now.

"Did you really try to slide down a railing backwards and break your arm?"

Van Zieks sighed. "Yes. A very long time ago. It was not my proudest moment."

Kazuma's laugh was breathy and ragged, grating against his raw throat. "Who would have guessed that even you were a child once?"

"Anyone with a basic understanding of linear time and the human lifecycle," van Zieks muttered.

"I'm not sure most people are convinced you're entirely human."

Van Zieks shrugged. "Well, sometimes I like to keep them guessing."

He leaned forward, pushing the photograph back towards Kazuma with one gloved finger and offering him a handkerchief. Kazuma lifted his fingers to his face while van Zieks politely averted his gaze. They came away damp.

"Oh," he croaked, taking the handkerchief and swiping at his cheeks. "I should…"

"Perhaps you might consider visiting Miss Iris and Mr. Sholmes once you're feeling up to it," van Zieks said in a carefully gentle sort of voice. "They've become your safe harbor here, haven't they? You don't have to talk about it, but you should seek out company, at least. Grief and pain flourish best in isolation. Why don't you bring Miss Iris lunch? I'm sure she would be delighted."

He pushed the untouched bag of food back towards Kazuma.

"It's for you, though."

"I don't have an appetite, and it doesn't seem like you do either. Perhaps in an hour or two, you will feel like eating something and can have a nice lunch with her. I can fend for myself."

Kazuma hesitated, but then slipped the photograph into his pocket and took the bag. He didn't feel up to picking a fight today.

He stood and backed towards the door, lingering uncertainly. "Well…"

He wanted to stay. Van Zieks was the only person he felt he could really talk to about his father in any meaningful way, and maybe the only one whose comfort he wanted on this side of the world. But he was also desperate to leave before his unsettled emotions took over in earnest and he made a fool of himself.

"Go on," van Zieks said. "I think you'll find Miss Iris a more compassionate companion."

Kazuma wasn't sure about that.

"Thank you," he said roughly, clearing his throat. "For…"

But he couldn't quite articulate the breadth of his gratitude, and 'everything' seemed too vague to convey the meaning.

Van Zieks looked away, a shadow crossing his face. "Don't thank me."

Kazuma stared at him. "You remind me of him sometimes," he blurted out before he thought better of it. He didn't even realize it was true until the words had left his mouth.

The grim look on van Zieks's face was shaken loose as he startled. "What?"

"The way you talk to me, when you're serious like this. Talking to me like a grown-up instead of a child, but still trying to do it gently to protect me from the hard parts. That's how he always talked to me, even when I was small. And also… The way you always do the right thing, no matter how ugly it is and how much it hurts. You make me feel…" Kazuma paused, searching for the right word. "You make me feel safe."

Van Zieks looked stricken, one hand rising unconsciously to clutch at the badge on his chest, fingers spasming around it. Kazuma might as well have slapped him. He looked vaguely ill.

"Sorry if that's strange," Kazuma hurried to add, embarrassed by his outburst. "Just… I don't think he would blame you either. A-anyway… I should go."

He whirled around and made his escape, shutting the door a little too loudly behind him. He leaned back against it for a moment, trying to catch his breath and collect himself. He didn't know where that revelation had come from or what had possessed him to blurt it out. It felt like something he should have kept to himself, at least until he'd had the chance to examine it more closely.

And yet… There was a frightening kind of truth there. Safe. He turned the word over in his mind, examining it like a lucky coin he'd plucked out of the gutter, polishing it until it shone. How strange that he had been sent away because of how unsafe it was here, and yet he still felt safest with van Zieks behind him. Didn't he feel the most confident in the courtroom when van Zieks stood at his shoulder? The most sure that everything would work out when van Zieks was there to make it so? The most free to be himself when van Zieks acknowledged even his ugliest pieces without judgment and accepted him as he was?

Mikotoba had tried to be that kind of guardian and protector, but Kazuma had been wrapped up in his own schemes, too busy missing his father and dreaming up plans to avenge him. He hadn't had enough room to stop and breathe and accept the support being offered to him. Mikotoba had been the closest thing to a parent he'd had for a long time and Kazuma loved him dearly for it, but he'd often been crowded out by the specter of the father Kazuma had spent so long chasing. Now that Kazuma had followed his schemes to the end and been left aimless and wandering, bereft of the goal that had driven him for so long with single-minded purpose, he had space to be filled.

When he had been lost and cut adrift, van Zieks was the one who had given him shelter and painstakingly guided him along a new path. Whatever their differences, he had accepted and protected Kazuma. He had corrected Kazuma when he was wrong, pushed him to be the best he could be, and praised him when he exceeded expectations. He had shielded Kazuma from the people who had wanted him punished or exiled from the country, tried to keep him out of harm's way in the streets, and rescued him if things ever went wrong, making sure he made it to safety. He did not always give Kazuma what he wanted, but when it came down to the wire, when all bets were off, he gave Kazuma what he needed.

It had been some time since Kazuma had had someone to rely on, not as a peer but as someone to look up to. Someone who always seemed to know what he was doing and always had an answer and always had Kazuma's best interests at heart. Someone he knew would catch him if he fell, who would encourage him to make his own way but be there if he needed advice and help fix things if something went wrong.

That reminded Kazuma of his father. That was the kind of trust Kazuma had placed in him, the kind of security he'd felt when his father had been watching over him. He wasn't a child anymore. He knew that 'adults' were not infallible, that sometimes they were wrong and made bad decisions and didn't have the answers. He hadn't had that kind of naïve trust since the early days of his childhood, when he still looked up to his parents with the starry-eyed hero-worship of the innocent. But still… It was more faith than he'd had in anyone in a long time. Perhaps more impressive because he knew van Zieks was a deeply flawed person who had made grave mistakes, and yet Kazuma trusted him anyway.

Finally, he took a deep breath and straightened up. This was something that warranted more thought, but he would do that in the privacy of his own apartment.

Schooling his expression to neutrality, he started down the hall. He turned the corner and nearly ran straight into Norrington coming the other direction. Norrington looked nearly as startled as Kazuma felt but recovered himself more quickly.

"Ah," he said. "I should have known you'd be here when you said you were going to lunch."

Kazuma's hand tightened around the bag. "You aren't going to see Lord van Zieks, are you?"

"I have something to discuss with him."

"Me?" he asked shrewdly, and Norrington's eyebrows climbed up his forehead in response. "If it's not urgent, you might wait until tomorrow. He might not have told you, but it's a difficult day for him too."

Norrington's brows knit together in a frown as he considered that, but then a spark of understanding lit his eyes. "I see. I suppose it can wait. Are you returning home now?"

"Yes."

"Then I will see you tomorrow. Take care."

Norrington offered a sympathetic smile and turned away. Kazuma watched him go before starting down the hall again.

He would go to his apartment first. Cry whatever tears were building behind the dam in his chest, think over everything van Zieks had told him, try to sort out his muddled emotions. When he felt more like himself again, perhaps he would go to Baker Street after all and eat some lunch or maybe dinner. And maybe tonight he would begin writing a letter to Mikotoba. He owed the man that much, and a letter was long overdue. Van Zieks was not always right about everything, but his advice was usually solid. There was something to be said for reaching out to the people he cared about instead of languishing in the dark with his grief. Kazuma was far away from home and his family was gone, but that didn't mean he was alone.