Matters of the Heart

by Mnemosyne's Elegy

The time has come to return to Japan, but everyone is worried about leaving Kazuma behind. In the hopes of soothing Susato's and Naruhodo's worries, Mikotoba resolves to find some reassurance that van Zieks will properly care for his apprentice and recover from his own trial. No one thinks this is going to help, but he intends to say goodbye to an old friend.

Iris scurried off to make tea nearly the moment she'd let Mikotoba into the flat, leaving him looking after her fondly. She had grown into a bright and charming girl in the decade since he'd left her in Sholmes's care. He had received the occasional update from Sholmes in their letters, but it was a different matter entirely to meet Iris in person.

While he waited, he drifted up the stairs and glanced around Naruhodo's attic office. It looked emptier now, much of the clutter packed away in preparation for the voyage back to Japan. At least Susato must appreciate the sudden tidiness. He imagined Naruhodo's disorganization had been vexing for her. But then again, perhaps the emptying of the room did not bring her any comfort at all.

"Susato?"

"Just a moment!" The door at the far end of the room opened, and Susato emerged. "Hello, Father."

"Hello, my dear. Where is Naruhodo-san?"

Her mouth pinched into a frown. "Out on errands. I do hope that doesn't mean he's picking up more souvenirs. He's always bringing back the most ridiculous trinkets, even though we have neither the money nor the space for them. His trunk is already too small."

She paused, sorrow and disquiet flickering over her face before she folded them away again.

"Have you decided if you're coming with us or staying behind?" Mikotoba asked gently. "We're leaving tomorrow. It's not like you to leave important decisions until the last minute."

"I…have spoken with Kazuma-sama about returning to Japan."

"Not Naruhodo-san?"

Susato flushed and looked troubled. "Well, no… I wouldn't want to presume or be a burden to him, only…"

"I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear you'd like to accompany him. You make a wonderful team."

Her frown only deepened. "Yes, only… I was supposed to be Kazuma-sama's judicial assistant."

"But you've spoken with him. Was he not understanding?"

"No, he was. And I do enjoy working with Naruhodo-san. It's just that… I worry about Kazuma-sama staying here alone. At least Naruhodo-san and I had each other. We made friends here who made us feel very welcome, but there's a comfort in having a companion from home."

Mikotoba would be lying if he said the thought hadn't crossed his mind as well. Kazuma was a very capable and independent man, but he was still young. He had come so close to falling apart and losing himself during that grand, terrible trial. Mikotoba trusted him to find his way, but everyone needed guidance sometimes.

"I will ask Sholmes to keep an eye on him," Mikotoba said. "I'm sure he and Iris will make Kazuma feel at home."

"I'm sure they will, only… I'm not sure Kazuma-sama entirely trusts Mr. Sholmes after having him declared dead. It created a great mess with Naruhodo-san accused of murder and Kazuma-sama running about with amnesia."

Mikotoba winced. "Sholmes means well, but sometimes he can be a bit…careless. But I do hope Kazuma will be able to rely on him. And didn't he say he was planning to continue his apprenticeship with Lord van Zieks? He should be in capable hands."

This did not appear to reassure Susato in the slightest. "Yes… That is what I'm most concerned about. Given his…history with Lord van Zieks, I can't imagine it being a harmonious partnership."

"Oh, I suspect it will be fraught," Mikotoba agreed. "But Lord van Zieks is an honorable man who will be able to provide more professional guidance and keep Kazuma out of trouble with the British authorities. His protection would mean a great deal."

Susato frowned again, and Mikotoba wished he could reach out and wipe the worried creases from her face, gather her into his arms and reassure her that everything would be alright until she believed it. But she wasn't a small child anymore, despite her youth. She was long past the point of being reassured and brushed off with platitudes.

Mikotoba had tried time and time again to keep complicated truths from her, everything from the true reason he'd recalled her to Japan early to why she must not speak of Iris's story about the Hound of the Baskervilles, and it seemed to have only pushed her a little bit farther away each time. There were times that secrets were called for, and his willingness to disguise the truth and cloak his motives was something he and Sholmes shared, but there were also situations that warranted honesty. Matters of the heart, perhaps, were one.

He owed his daughter a bit of honesty, the courtesy of addressing her as an adult who understood the nuances of complex situations and was capable of making up her own mind. She would not be soothed simply because her father told her things would be alright, not anymore.

Susato's pause lingered a fraction too long, as if she were thinking along similar lines and debating whether to accept her father's reassurance at face value like she normally would or push at it.

Finally, she said, "Lord van Zieks has proven himself to be a highly principled prosecutor, but Kazuma-sama did just try to have him falsely convicted on a personal vendetta. Kazuma-sama was…not himself during that trial. I don't expect his hatred will die so easily. And Lord van Zieks has hated Kazuma-sama and his father too, along with our people as a whole. I am not sure he will be able to set aside his prejudices for Kazuma-sama's sake, and I don't know that Kazuma-sama will be able to set aside his either. I worry that they may find it difficult to work together amicably."

"Your concerns are valid. They have both been wronged and harbor a great deal of bitterness about it. But you know Kazuma. He is strong and honorable and will overcome this too. And I know Lord van Zieks, or did, once, many years ago. I have no doubt that he will still pursue the most just course of action, whatever his personal feelings on the matter. I feel better knowing that Kazuma will be in his care."

Susato looked briefly surprised before nodding once. "Yes, I suppose he did say that he remembered you as well." She hesitated, taking a deep breath and letting it out again slowly. "Father… Lord van Zieks is different now than when you knew him. He can be very hostile and spiteful, especially when it comes to the Japanese, and that concerns me. I think that he is, probably, a good man, but he is not always a kind one."

Mikotoba knew that, of course. He had seen the changes. In his memory, he could catch a shy smile and hint of unrestrained laughter, a peppering of questions born of a keen sense of curiosity, an unguarded softness that lent itself to solicitous kindness. And he had known, seeing the man again in the courtroom so many years later, that sometimes memories stayed firmly in the past where they had long since withered and died. It was a shame. And yet, he liked to think that perhaps some part of the boy he had known still survived, the same way he could think of Kazuma as the child he'd first welcomed into his home and know he still existed somewhere amongst the wreckage.

"I know," he said. "But he was, once. He's already acted as Kazuma's mentor for a few months, isn't that right? I'm sure they can continue on."

"But he didn't know who Kazuma-sama was, and Kazuma-sama didn't know either. Can they really go back to the way things were before now that the truth is out?"

Mikotoba had no answer for that. He would like to think that Kazuma would be able to accept that van Zieks was not responsible for his father's death beyond the careless negligence of a young, inexperienced prosecutor blinded by grief while fighting for justice for his murdered family…much as Kazuma was now. He would like to think that van Zieks would be able to accept that his mistrust and hatred of all Japanese extrapolated from the actions of one man was irrational at best and that Kazuma and his father were as much victims of circumstance as he and his brother. In truth, though, he knew that so many years of grief and hate and bitterness didn't disappear overnight. He just didn't know how much of it they would take out on each other.

"I'd like to think they're both honorable enough men to move past this eventually," he said. "I don't know how much damage they might do to each other along the way, though. All I can say is that I've known them both to be good men. I'm confident that Kazuma will recover with time, and as for Lord van Zieks… I would like to believe that he is still the person I remember, underneath it all. But I suppose you'd feel better if we knew that for sure."

Susato shrugged, nodded. "I wish I knew what the right choice was. That would make it easier to say goodbye."

"Ah, my dear. We never know what the right choice will be until long after the consequences have taken hold, and sometimes not even then. All we can do is make the best decision we can and be satisfied knowing that we did our best."

"I suppose I shall just have to trust them."

"And trust yourself and your judgment. It's alright to have doubts, but you can trust that you've made the best decision you could."

Susato opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, a door slammed and the indistinct chatter of another voice floated up the stairs.

Her frown morphed into an exasperated kind of smile. "It sounds as if Naruhodo-san is back."

Mikotoba followed her back downstairs to find Naruhodo talking to Iris by the door. Iris's gaze snapped up to meet the newcomers.

"There you are!" she said. "Your tea is getting cold. Come along, everyone! Tea and biscuits are ready!"

They arranged themselves on the couches, where Sholmes had already claimed his spot and was shoveling snacks into his mouth as fast as he could scoop them up. Iris swatted his hand and chided him for trying to eat everything before their guests got any, while Susato scolded Naruhodo about some new trinket he'd picked up on his way back to the flat.

Mikotoba sipped his tea and watched the chaos with fond indulgence. He was almost sorry to be dragging Susato and Naruhodo from such comfortable friendship so soon, but they were needed back in Japan. He should talk to Sholmes again before their departure too, but alone. It was too bad he didn't have more time to spend with his old friend. The truth was that he might never make it back to England again. He hoped he might someday, but there was no guarantee. He would make his goodbyes count.

"Are you ready for tomorrow, Mr. Naruhodo?" he asked when Susato was finished with him.

"Oh!" Naruhodo said, startled by the interruption. Even in the intervening year, with all his new experience, he still hadn't lost that wide-eyed look of his. "Yes, I think so. Most of the packing is done, at least." He sighed, the corners of his mouth drooping downwards. "I'll miss England, though. It's very different from home, but I've met so many wonderful people and had so many adventures. I'll miss that."

Iris sniffled loudly. "We'll miss you too, Runo!"

"My dear fellow," Sholmes added, "surely you recognize the benefits of correspondence? You shall have to write and keep us apprised of all your coming adventures. You do seem to tangle yourself up in a great many interesting ones."

"You had better!" Iris agreed. "And I'll send you copies of our adventures too in Randst!"

Naruhodo smiled. "Of course. We'll keep in touch. I hope Kazuma will keep up with his correspondence too."

But a troubled look passed over his face, nearly a mirror of Susato's unease.

"You're worried about him," Mikotoba observed.

Naruhodo gave a nervous laugh and scratched at the back of his head. "Well, he's just recovered from amnesia, you know, and had a bit of a shock. I'm sure he'll be fine. He was the one who was meant to be on this study tour in the first place, after all. It's just…a little different from how I'd imagined, I suppose."

"He's always been very determined, and I'm sure he'll take his studies seriously. Still, you should keep in touch." Mikotoba raised an eyebrow in Sholmes's direction. "And maybe you might invite him over for tea on occasion."

"That will depend on how much he eats," Sholmes said. "I've nearly starved with Mr. Naruhodo gobbling up all the biscuits."

"That would be lovely!" Iris said at nearly the same moment, choosing to ignore her guardian. "Maybe we could even convince Mr. Reaper to come with him! He did promise to come one day…"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Mikotoba said. "But perhaps you should devise a new nickname, don't you think? Since he was acquitted?" He cut a look Sholmes's way. "You too, Sholmes. Don't think I don't know where she picked it up from."

"Don't be a spoilsport," Sholmes said. "Beneath that gloomy exterior, the man loves to be teased."

Mikotoba had his doubts. "Even so, perhaps not about that, specifically."

He did not understand the nuances of this Reaper situation that had developed in the decade he'd been away from England, but he had seen the way van Zieks's eyes flashed when he vehemently denied the charges. The man had nearly been sent to the gallows for those very rumors. Besides, Mikotoba thought it might be prudent not to antagonize him if they hoped he would prove a considerate mentor to Kazuma. Perhaps letting that particular rumor go might help thaw relations and encourage van Zieks to overlook the role Kazuma had played.

"Ah, well, you might be right on that count," Sholmes said. "As observant as ever, my dear Mikotoba! It's such a shame to be sending you off to your illustrious homeland again so soon."

Iris's hands flew to cover her mouth. "Oh no! I didn't mean to offend him. No wonder he didn't want to come to our party. I will come up with something new at once!"

"Don't worry," Susato reassured her. "I'm sure he wasn't offended by that. I think that perhaps he just wasn't in a celebratory mood."

No, 'offended' might be the wrong word to use. It was too early yet to know how van Zieks would react to his newfound niece, but Mikotoba hoped Iris would work her charm on him. That might be easier if she didn't unthinkingly name him as a murderer, particularly the very one who had masterminded his brother's downfall, and twist the knife a little more each time.

"Oh, this will be splendid!" Sholmes said. "Why don't we try out a few and see which one produces the deepest scowl? He's quite an easy fellow to vex!"

Mikotoba sighed. "I think that perhaps you are missing the point, Sholmes." But that was about as much as he could expect on the matter, and he was about to push the conversation along to less serious topics when he noticed Naruhodo's furrowed brow. "Mr. Naruhodo? Is something else troubling you?"

Naruhodo started and laughed nervously. "Ah, no, not exactly. I just still feel a little bad about how the trial turned out. It was bad enough having to invalidate all of Professor Harebrayne's research, and this… Well, the wins just don't feel the same if you have to hurt your own clients to get there, I guess."

"No, I'd imagine not. But you did the right thing and gave an impressive performance. It was a hard-won victory. No matter how bittersweet, it was a victory."

"Brilliant work unraveling the mystery of a decade," Sholmes agreed.

Naruhodo nodded, but his eyes were shadowed. "I just wish Kazuma and Lord van Zieks could see it that way."

"They do," Mikotoba said. "Sometimes that doesn't make it easier."

"I'm sure they'll both be just fine!" Susato said with far more confidence than only a few minutes prior. "Kazuma-sama cleared his father's name, and Lord van Zieks's name was cleared too. Perhaps that will make it easier to bear the rest."

Mikotoba sighed and leaned back, considering. Susato and Naruhodo both shared similar concerns, best laid to rest before tomorrow's journey. And perhaps he considered it unfinished business of his own as well.

"As a matter of fact," he said slowly, "I do have one more errand to run before our departure."

Susato tilted her head. "Oh? What's that?"

"Aha!" Sholmes interrupted, wagging his finger in the air. "Off to the Prosecutor's Office, are you?"

"You are?" Naruhodo asked, confused. "Why?"

"Elementary, my dear fellow! He doesn't trust us to come up with a proper new name for our dear Reaper and hopes to forestall our testing of the scowls by asking the man himself. This is because he is a terrible spoilsport."

Everyone stared at him. Mikotoba sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was never a moment too sacred to deter Sholmes from having his fun.

"Oh, Hurley," Iris said. "I'm sure we could do that part ourselves."

"You're going to talk to Kazuma-sama?" Susato suggested hopefully, looking back at Mikotoba.

"No one ever listens," Sholmes sighed. "He's going to talk to our dear friend the Reaper."

She looked skeptical, but Mikotoba nodded.

"Yes," he agreed. "Kazuma will see us off before we leave, I'm sure. If you'd like to come with me to say hello to him, though, you're welcome to."

"A splendid idea!" Sholmes interjected with a ludicrous amount of good cheer. "Distractions will help. If they lure him away, then you can–"

"Don't sulk, Sholmes. I'll speak with you too once I get back."

He pouted outrageously. "You think so lowly of me."

Mikotoba smiled and rose to his feet. "Well, I have business to attend to. Come if you'd like."

"What a splendid–!"

"Not you, Sholmes. This calls for a little more delicacy."

Leaving Sholmes to sulk, Mikotoba headed for the door. Susato and Naruhodo fell into step beside him as he started down the street.

"You're really going to talk to Lord van Zieks?" Naruhodo asked. "He, uh, really doesn't like being bothered. He was quite annoyed with me when I tracked him down to his office."

Mikotoba smiled fondly. "I'm not afraid of him, Mr. Naruhodo."

"Well, I am," Naruhodo muttered. "I mean, he was much politer last time we met, but still… I wouldn't want to deliberately annoy him."

"Oh," Susato said quietly. "Because we'd feel better knowing that he intended to take care of Kazuma-sama? And that he'd recover from the trial?"

Mikotoba's smile softened further. "If it will bring our minds peace, it's worth a try, isn't it?"

"I don't expect he'll tell you anything at all," Naruhodo said. "It's like pulling teeth to get anything out of him sometimes."

"Don't you worry, Mr. Naruhodo. My goals are not lofty. I knew him once, many years ago, and I have not had the chance to speak to him on this trip. It would be terribly rude of me to leave without at least saying goodbye. I will give him my regards, and then we can be off."

"That's all?" Susato asked, perplexed.

"I should hope that even if he did not open himself to me, I could glean enough from the encounter to know where things stand. You forget, my dear, I have trained under Sholmes in the great art of deduction."

"Oh no," Naruhodo mumbled.

Mikotoba laughed.

---

Naruhodo led the way through the halls of the Prosecutor's Office until they reached the office of van Zieks himself. He hesitated outside and then rapped haltingly on the doorframe.

"Good afternoon, Lord van Zieks!" he chirped nervously. "We were, ah, hoping to maybe…"

Van Zieks was seated behind an ornate desk, a towering pile of paperwork at his elbow. Kazuma sat seiza-style at a low table across the room, sorting through a smaller pile of his own. Silence hung over the room, broken only by the scratching of van Zieks's pen and the rustling of papers and now Naruhodo's overly loud voice. It was not enough to disguise the tension clotting the air like a thick smog.

Kazuma looked up at the interruption, eyebrows lifting at the sight of the little party clustered just outside the door. Van Zieks did not.

"Mr. Asogi, you are dismissed," he said, gaze never leaving the page as he crossed something out and scribbled in the margin. "You may take your social call elsewhere."

Kazuma rose to his feet, and the look he directed his mentor's way was anything but warm. "Very well."

He started across the room, but as he passed the desk, van Zieks lifted his pen and proffered the stack of pages he'd been reviewing.

"When you return, rewrite this."

Kazuma snatched the paperwork from his hand and bared his teeth in something near a sneer. "Is it not to your exacting standards, My Lord?"

Van Zieks merely plucked another file from the pile and held his pen poised over the page as his gaze flicked back and forth rapidly across the text. "You know precisely why."

"I would like you to tell me."

Van Zieks sighed through his nose and made a note on the page with what might be excessive force. "Pray do not keep your company waiting. It is discourteous. We may discuss the matter on your return if you wish, although you will find my notes already provided in the margins."

"What's the point?" Kazuma muttered, stalking back to toss the report onto his desk. "It's not as if I'm prosecuting the case."

"That is no excuse for substandard work."

Kazuma muttered something too low for Mikotoba to hear as he started for the door again. Van Zieks's head snapped up, and he looked at his apprentice for the first time, eyes flashing.

"Absolutely not," he said sharply. "You will not take that cavalier attitude. These are people's lives, Mr. Asogi. It is not a game. Willful negligence will not be tolerated."

Kazuma's lip curled in derision. "I don't expect I'll be allowed into the courtroom anytime soon regardless."

"And if you take that attitude, I will personally ensure that you never prosecute another case on English soil," van Zieks snapped back. Kazuma flinched, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword and tightening reflexively, and for a moment Mikotoba feared that everything was going to fall apart just like that. Then van Zieks added, in a more measured tone, "I can teach you many things, but I cannot teach you how to care. You must take this seriously, even now when you are barred from the courtroom. Your studies in the meantime will not be wasted. You are dismissed, Mr. Asogi, until such time as you can accept this. When you have your head back on straight, come back and rewrite the report. When it is to my satisfaction, we will continue."

Kazuma stared at him for a long time, eyes smoldering. Before he could come up with a suitably cutting retort, Naruhodo cleared his throat nervously.

"Ah… Kazuma?"

"Right," Kazuma muttered, turning on his heel and stalking towards the door.

The tension snapped like a cut string. Van Zieks went back to his case files as if nothing had happened. Naruhodo and Susato backed out into the hall to let Kazuma stride past.

"Are you alright?" Susato asked in a low voice.

"Oh, yes," Kazuma said dryly. "Don't mind our little spats. What can I do for you?"

The interaction they'd witnessed would do little to quell everyone's worries. Tempers were still running high, it seemed. Was there any hope of those two establishing a successful partnership? Was leaving Kazuma alone here a mistake after all?

"Why don't you three go find somewhere to have a nice chat?" Mikotoba suggested in a low voice.

"Oh?" Kazuma said. "What are you doing, then?"

"Don't mind me. I'll be along in a minute."

Susato and Naruhodo bracketed Kazuma on either side, speaking in hushed voices with their heads tucked in close, and Mikotoba watched them turn the corner before stepping into the office.

"This is certainly nicer than the office they first gave you when you started practicing," he remarked, looking around.

The immediate focal point was the enormous portrait of Klint van Zieks dominating the far wall. Immortalized in oil and canvas, he looked exactly as Mikotaba remembered him: noble, commanding, a touch aloof but with a hint of a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. It was too bad, really. He'd been such a force to be reckoned with, such a paragon of justice. But even the most honorable men could fall, and there had always been something a little sharp-edged beneath Klint's good cheer, something that could perhaps twist a driving determination for justice into something darker. Not that Mikotoba had known the man as well as Genshin had. Perhaps not well enough to make such a judgment without the benefit of hindsight.

An impressive collection of wine casks lined another wall, presumably to complement the case filled with wine glasses behind the desk. Aside from the two desks, there was another table bearing what looked to be the partially constructed bones of a London alley in miniature. A crime scene, perhaps, judging from the spray of red already dabbed along the far end.

"I would have thought you shared your daughter's motives in coming here, Doctor," van Zieks said, and Mikotoba cut short his scrutiny of the room. "I am sure you may still apprehend Mr. Asogi and his posse if you leave now."

Van Zieks did not even look up from his work as he spoke, and his voice rang flat with indifference. A clear dismissal. But Mikotoba could feign obliviousness as well as Sholmes, and he pretended not to hear.

"I didn't come to speak to Kazuma. I came to speak to you."

"Oh?" Van Zieks frowned and circled something on the page, jotting a note in the margin. "To what end?"

"It's been a long time since last we met, and I will be returning to Japan tomorrow. It would be remiss of me not to stop by and give my regards before leaving."

Van Zieks glanced up at that, eyebrows rising minutely. "Is that so? A gentlemanly gesture, but unnecessary. There is no need to burden yourself so. I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to in preparation for your departure. Don't let me keep you."

The words were courteous but cold, polite but pointed. Another dismissal.

Everything about him was unapproachable and distant. Time could change a man a great deal, and circumstance even more. Mikotoba had caught a glimpse of this man Barok van Zieks might become after Genshin's arrest and conviction, some foreshadowing or presentiment, perhaps. But that had only been a shadow born of grief and betrayal, weighed down by hatred and desperation. Back then he had glowed hot, burned bright, trembled with righteous fury and crippling despair—sharp-edged but brittle and crumbling to the touch. This version was something different, the hatred and anger and mistrust carefully folded away beneath a veneer of cold civility and blunt discourtesy. Everything had cooled, hardened, calcified into a solid wall.

Mikotoba looked for any sign of the boy he'd known before grief and betrayal had broken and then hardened his heart. But there were no laugh lines crinkling the corners of van Zieks's eyes, only the furrow of a frown on his brow and a mouth set in a permanent scowl. There was no hint of timidity or shyness in his words or manner, only callous confidence and disregard for the opinions and whims of others. There was no kindness or warmth lighting his eyes, only a bleak and murky look with all the biting chill of a windy winter night.

Mikotoba looked, but he found not a face soft and expressive and open, but one entirely unreadable, schooled carefully to impassivity.

"It's no trouble at all," he said, fighting to quell his unease and disappointment. "Are you having difficulties with your apprentice?"

Perhaps a more direct approach was needed if he could glean nothing himself.

Van Zieks's expression shifted minutely. It was still difficult to read his inexpressive features, but for the briefest of moments, he looked exhausted.

"My apologies," he said, returning his gaze to his desk and setting aside the page to survey the next. "You should not have witnessed such a disgraceful scene. Mr. Asogi is, I believe, purposely pushing boundaries in order to vex me."

"To what end, do you think?" Mikotoba asked with interest.

"I'm sure I do not know. To test the limits of my patience or feel out the new boundaries of our working relationship, perhaps. As a way of acting out because he is hurt and angry and had his vengeance thwarted. Or perhaps merely because he despises me and is letting it interfere with his work to an unfortunate degree. His purposes are, as ever, his own."

"Hm… That doesn't seem to bode well for his continued apprenticeship."

"It's too early to tell," van Zieks said indifferently. "He may sort himself out with time, or perhaps he will not."

Mikotoba didn't think this reaction boded well either. Van Zieks did not seem at the end of his rope with Kazuma yet, ready to throw him out on his ear at the next sign of misbehavior, but his apathy and lukewarm attitude might be even worse. Mikotoba would feel better knowing that someone would be willing to fight for Kazuma if need be, or at least take an active interest in his success.

He wasn't sure he liked where this was going, and van Zieks's pointedly bland remarks made him think that he'd be able to dig up little else of interest on the topic.

"And you?" he asked instead. "Will you sort yourself out as well? I understand that some of the things uncovered were quite…shocking."

The pen stilled in van Zieks's hand, but he did not look up. "I am quite well, I assure you."

Mikotoba doubted that very much. "And how have you been this past decade, then? It's been a long time since I've seen you."

"Quite well. Very busy, mostly. Now more than ever. If you wouldn't mind…"

This dismissal had a sharper edge than the others, and Mikotoba was forced to admit defeat. Speaking with van Zieks was like trying to climb a wall made of glass, scrabbling for purchase and finding none. Besides the one frank insight he'd offered into Kazuma's behavior, he gave little away.

"I see," Mikotoba said quietly. "Well, I am glad to hear it. In that case, I will take my leave so that I don't disrupt your work any longer. Goodbye, then."

Van Zieks did not respond at all, and Mikotoba sighed and retreated from the room. He was not sure what he would tell Susato and Naruhodo when he caught up to them. He had not actually found what he'd come here for and had no additional reassurances to offer. And aside from that… He had been hoping, despite everyone's reservations, that he might have the chance to catch up with an old friend. Reminisce for nostalgia's sake, perhaps, or at least make sure van Zieks would be alright. Maybe even talk for a moment about the events that had so inextricably bound them together. To say something real. But it truly had been a decade since they'd known each other. He had foolishly expected too much and been disappointed.

But such was life, and he had experience with accepting disappointments for what they were and moving on. So he set it aside as best he could and focused on what he could do. He needed to find his daughter and her companions, first of all, and he hoped he did not get lost wandering this building looking for them.

Up ahead and around the corner, he heard the murmur of voices, Susato's higher tone layering over Kazuma's. At least that would solve one problem.

"Mikotoba-san!"

He started in surprise and turned back at the sharp bark of his name and the ringing of boots against tile. The voices around the corner went quiet.

He smiled when van Zieks stepped out of the office. "Ah, so you haven't forgotten your manners after all."

Van Zieks made a sound in the back of his throat close to a scoff. He ventured a few paces down the hall but stopped a good distance away.

"Are you going to tell me your real purpose in coming here?" he asked. His eyes were hard with mistrust. "My recollection is that you do not tend to do things without purpose."

"You make me sound so mercenary," Mikotoba said with a little laugh. "It was just a social call."

"Pray forgive my bluntness, but I do not believe that at all."

"Is it really so hard to believe that I might check up on an old friend?"

"Yes."

Mikotoba sighed, wondering what had happened in the past decade to make van Zieks so suspicious of anyone showing an interest in him. He'd grown quite cold when asked how he was faring back in his office as well.

"It struck me during your trial that you looked very sad and tired. It seemed prudent to check in before I left."

Van Zieks's scoff was more pronounced this time. "I'm quite well, and I see no reason for your concern regardless. No, the person you would worry for is…Mr. Asogi. Is that what you're after? Gauging if he will survive my tutelage?"

"That too," Mikotoba admitted. "He did say you agreed to continue mentoring him, but it seemed wise to make sure he would be looked after."

"I said that I would continue his apprenticeship, and I will," van Zieks said sharply. "Whatever else, I am still a man of my word."

"I believe you. Still…"

"As I said, he is pushing boundaries—testing the limits of my patience to see if I will snap. But I assure you, I will outlast his games. I will not banish him from the office unless he proves unfit for the position, no matter how he vexes me. Or if it's the attacks you're concerned about, he has already proven a capable swordsman if the need arises to defend himself, and I will do my utmost to keep him out of harm's way."

Mikotoba listened with growing interest, fascinated by the implied deduction that Kazuma might be specifically testing boundaries to see if van Zieks would throw him out, but the shift of direction caught him off guard.

"Attacks?" he repeated.

Van Zieks blinked at him. "…Ah. You have not heard."

"What attacks?"

"Merely a consequence of being the face of the Reaper. Criminals fearing retribution after winning an acquittal or seeking revenge for an accomplice's mysterious death sometimes resort to more violent measures."

Mikotoba's frown deepened with every word. "This entire Reaper business that you've just been on trial for… People are attacking you in the streets because of it?"

"Of course. Does it not follow logically?"

"And you just allowed yourself to be scapegoated anyway, without fighting back? You could be killed."

"What of it?"

Mikotoba stared at him. "What do you mean?"

Van Zieks folded his arms across his chest and regarded Mikotoba with flat, cold eyes. "I am capable of defending myself. Perhaps one day my luck will run out, but I'm sure it won't matter. The world will go on, I'm sure."

"Of course it would matter," Mikotoba sputtered, thrown off balance by the man's clinical detachment when talking about his own hypothetical death.

Van Zieks clicked his tongue impatiently. "It is merely part and parcel of my complicity as the Reaper's figurehead. It's a risk I have accepted. It is not a risk Mr. Asogi agreed to, and so I will keep it from him as best I can. That is all."

Mikotoba's gaze slid sideways just a hair, away from van Zieks's eyes to the cross-hatched scar between them. He had noticed it before, of course, but he hadn't considered that it might be only the faintest indication of a much bigger problem.

"This has been going on for how long?"

"A decade, and I've survived thus far."

"But when did it start? Shortly after we returned to Japan last time?"

"With the first case I lost, which was the very next one. So yes, shortly after you got on the boat, I suppose. I did not take bereavement leave."

A vaguely nauseous feeling coiled in the pit of Mikotoba's stomach. "So when you were still a child."

Van Zieks's eyes flashed with sudden fire. "Certainly not. Do not infantilize me. As old as Mr. Naruhodo and Mr. Asogi are now, I'd wager. Certainly old enough to know better."

"Ah… That still seems so young to me. Or perhaps it's only that I first met you as… Goodness, you must have been Susato's age. Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Doctor Mikotoba."

"Of course not," Mikotoba said softly. "But still… I'm sorry that you had to face it alone, so young, immediately on the heels of your world falling apart. It was especially cruel to take advantage of your grief to manipulate you in such a way."

Van Zieks sniffed. "Lord Stronghart always liked his games. He knew how to read people and arrange them like chess pieces."

"It's unconscionable to take advantage of someone in such a vulnerable state."

Van Zieks stared at Mikotoba, a vaguely perplexed look rippling across his face, and then his eyes seemed to soften just a little.

"Ah, you have misunderstood," he said. "I am not a victim. I took on the mantle of the Reaper willingly. I knew what it meant for me, or figured it out quickly enough. I agreed to bear the suspicion and fear of the city, and to become someone to be hated and feared in turn. I convinced myself it was better that way.

"Would I have made the same choice if it had been thrust on me when I had not just lost everything? Maybe not. But I did make that choice, I have made it every day since, and you cannot take that from me. We live and die by the choices we make, and my path is set. Whatever my faults, I have never run from the consequences."

Mikotoba opened his mouth, closed it again. There had been a time when he had been frustrated with van Zieks too, when he'd glimpsed a presentiment of the Reaper yet to emerge. He had wanted to shake the man by the shoulders and beg him to stop and breathe and look. To trust that Genshin would not have committed such horrendous crimes. But he had not hated him the way Kazuma did.

The evidence seemed damning, even if some things didn't quite match up. Genshin had refused to tell the truth and let them help him, even when Mikotoba and Seishiro had begged him. And van Zieks had been so young and grief-stricken as his world crashed down around him. He had leaned on Genshin in the wake of his brother's death, only to discover he was leaning on the very culprit himself. He had asked for answers too, and Genshin had given none. Mikotoba could not quite blame him for losing his trust and fighting back, even if they had ended up on opposite sides.

Mikotoba had not wished van Zieks ill, not even when the dust had settled. He had hoped van Zieks would be able to find peace again one day, overcome his grief and emerge anew. That did not seem to have happened at all. Van Zieks had made his peace with nothing, and now that his world was once again shifting on its axis, Mikotoba feared what might become of him. Knowing the man had spent a decade convincing himself that it was best for an entire city to fear and hate him did nothing to suggest he would recover more gracefully this time around.

"Why did you retire, then?" Mikotoba asked.

He had heard some offhand mention of this, a few years where van Zieks had left the Prosecutor's Office and hidden away from the public eye, but he knew no more than that. For all van Zieks's resignation and acceptance, something had driven him there.

One corner of van Zieks's mouth quirked upwards, the ghost of something like an unhappy smile. "As you say, I was very sad and very tired."

Mikotoba closed his eyes. Yes, and underneath the prickly, abrasive, unyielding surface, maybe that was what had lain hidden all along.

But there had been a time when that was not the case. He remembered van Zieks bearing himself with all the shy, unassuming awkwardness of a young deer just learning its way around on wobbly legs at their first meeting, hovering behind his brother's shoulder as if intending to hide behind him. The way his diffidence had first been chased with a warm smile and then avid curiosity as he welcomed his brother's foreign friends. The way the group had debated, for a moment, how to differentiate the two brothers when they shared a name, and the younger one had caught his lip between his teeth and said, uncertainly, "You can call me Barok. I don't mind."

There had been an innocent kindness to him then, before grief and exhaustion and pain had trampled it.

"You don't deserve to be hated, Barok. Not for that."

Van Zieks tilted his head, eyebrows rising minutely, but did not protest the informality. "Maybe not then," he said. "But I am no longer a child."

Mikotoba drifted a few steps back down the hall towards the grim prosecutor, as if tugged by an invisible string. "Barok–"

Van Zieks took one measured, unhurried step back, putting a purposeful distance back between them and drawing Mikotoba up short.

"Careful, Doctor," he said without inflection. "You wouldn't want to overstep yourself. If your goal was to ensure Mr. Asogi would be safe in my care, let me offer reassurance so that you may leave soothed. I will mold him into the best lawyer he can be once he finishes sabotaging himself with petty games. If it's the attacks you worry about, suggest to him that he consider a less notorious mentor."

Mikotoba held the moment in his hand and then let it go. He had coaxed more out of van Zieks than he'd had any right to expect, and continuing to push past this clearly drawn boundary would only make their near-camaraderie fall apart again.

"This is his own decision, and I don't expect I can sway him from it," he said instead. "I am reassured to know that he will be under your wing. We were only concerned that having the truth revealed might introduce…tension. I'd imagine it might be more difficult to continue on as you were now that you know who each other are."

Van Zieks barked out a harsh laugh, rusty with disuse, that echoed down the hall. "You think I didn't know?"

"What?"

"Oh, I recognized the sword at Mr. Naruhodo's hip when he first walked into my courtroom," van Zieks said, lips curling into a bitter smile. "I'd certainly seen Karuma often enough to have an inkling of recognition. But then I thought that there was no way I would recognize such a sword after a decade. What's to say that one Nipponese blade doesn't look exactly like every other one? And Mr. Naruhodo would have had no reason to possess it.

"But I did my due diligence and found that he was a locum student taking the place of someone who had not survived the journey. I had nothing to say it was Genshin's son besides a potentially nondescript Nipponese sword and a premonition since Lord Stronghart conveniently forgot the man's name, but I'd be lying if I said the possibility hadn't occurred to me. By all rights, I should have taken a perverse satisfaction in suspecting he was gone."

"But you didn't," Mikotoba said quietly as his shock began wearing away at the edges.

"But I didn't," van Zieks bit out, mouth twisting like he'd tasted something sour. "Still, I had nothing to even suggest the possibility besides my paranoia, so I told myself I was wrong and put it aside."

"And then Lord Stronghart gave you an amnesic apprentice in a mask."

"Oh, yes, I knew that was some kind of mind game. He always liked those. He had the gall to say, later, that the mask was to spare me the burden of knowing the apprentice he foisted on me was Nipponese. As if I couldn't tell that the first time he insisted on sitting seiza-style on my floor. As if I couldn't read it in the nuance of every gesture. And I thought, how coincidental that a young Nipponese man with an extensive knowledge of law has appeared only a few months after a foreign exchange student was presumed deceased. And it might still have been any other Nipponese man, but did you know, when we were ambushed in the streets, he fought exactly like Genshin. I could have been wrong, I did chalk it up to paranoia and try to put it aside, but I knew."

"But you still cared for him anyway."

"What choice did I have? I was under Lord Stronghart's orders. I puzzled over his motives, looking for the end goal of this twisted little game. I did consider that this mysterious apprentice might not have amnesia at all, that it was all some trick, but… He knew nothing. So yes, I knew I was gifted a viper in disguise. I arranged his lodgings, his attire, his meals. I kept him out of Lord Stronghart's sight as best I could. I taught him what he needed to use against me. And I waited and waited and waited for him to finally shed his skin and sink his fangs into me, just like his–"

Van Zieks broke off, hands fisted and trembling at his sides, eyes bright with anger and–

"Just like his father," Mikotoba finished. Van Zieks said nothing, mouth pressed shut in a tight line, and Mikotoba sighed. "Even though we now know that Genshin wasn't the Professor… He still killed your brother. He was not, exactly, an innocent. You still feel that he betrayed you by taking matters into his own hands."

"Yes," van Zieks bit out. "That's how I feel, even still. Still… I was wrong. If I had convicted him for Klint's death, that would have been justice. Convicting him of Klint's crimes because I was too blind to pursue the inconsistencies… That was not, and I will live with that. And I am sorry for it, because even though I think his vigilante justice was no better than Lord Stronghart's, I played a part in his unfairly messy demise."

He paused and then huffed out a breath like a soft, bitter laugh. "But selfishly, the thing I hate him for the most is that when I found Klint's body and Scotland Yard was summoned, he was the one who held me and let me cry on his shoulder and said I would be alright. I have never been able to trust anyone's kindness since, and I don't know if I can forgive him that."

Mikotoba closed his eyes and let out a breath. "I'm sorry."

"…Yes, I am too."

"I do wish Genshin had told us the truth, that we might have looked for a way to help him. And… Your feelings are valid. He wounded you deeply."

Van Zieks sighed, looking exhausted again. "I don't wish to speak of it."

"Still… You chose to care for his son anyway. I don't believe for a moment that you couldn't have refused."

"What does it matter?" he asked tiredly. "He was my friend once. His son had no memories to speak of, no one but Lord Stronghart to look after him. There's no point kicking a man without any memories, Nipponese or not."

"But you still thought he'd turn on you in the end. You taught him the skills to help him do it. That seems…unwise."

Van Zieks smiled thinly, a razor-slash across his face. "What of it? I have always expected my demise to be premature and violent. What does it matter if it's at the hands of some ruffian on the street or Asogi Kazuma? I suppose it has a nice kind of symmetry to it."

Mikotoba drew in a sharp breath. "Barok–"

Van Zieks waved a hand, curt and dismissive. "Regardless, you may rest assured that little has changed on my part. I'm not harboring some deep-seated thirst for vengeance after that thrice-damned trial. I don't care. I was once in his place, and he reminds me, all told, a great deal of myself. The only thing that has changed is that he knows enough to hate me now, and frankly, that will be easier to bear than the infernal waiting. If you are concerned about these revelations' impact on our future partnership, I'd advise focusing your attention on Mr. Asogi to ensure he's considered the implications of remaining with me."

Mikotoba could not deny that he felt safer leaving Kazuma in van Zieks's hands, knowing now that he'd been at the man's mercy all along.

"Thank you," he said. "For taking care of him despite everything."

"Don't thank me. I was not kind to him."

"But you weren't cruel either."

Van Zieks went still, brows drawing together in consideration, and then said, slowly, "I would not say that either."

"What do you mean?"

"…Did they tell you how he regained his memories?"

"Something about a waxwork of his father, I believe."

"Yes. I showed it to Mr. Naruhodo when I explained the Professor killings to him, but in truth… It was more for Mr. Asogi's benefit. Your daughter and Mr. Naruhodo recognized him as soon as they saw him, and I could not justifiably convince myself I was mistaken any longer. I'd been crawling out of my skin for months, holding my breath, waiting. And I'd had enough. So I presented the story and the waxwork in the hopes that it would shake something loose."

"And it did."

"Yes, most spectacularly. But it was, admittedly, a spiteful way to go about it."

"You could just apologize to him."

"I didn't say I was sorry. I had no other obvious methods at my disposal, and when an unexpected opportunity dropped into my lap, I took it."

Mikotoba sighed, feeling entirely out of his depth. "If that's the worst of it, that's about as well as could be expected. Still… You might try to put him a bit more at ease. You were always kind to us and made us feel welcome. I'm sure you could manage."

"I fear I was not as welcoming to the Japanese contingent this time around."

"I'm aware," Mikotoba said more sharply than he intended.

He could not say that he appreciated the man's newly acquired racism, and the picture Susato and Naruhodo had painted was harrowing. He might have called van Zieks to task for it, except that he didn't want to antagonize the man while Kazuma would be at his mercy.

"Ah," van Zieks said, almost languidly. "Gomennasai, Mikotoba-san."

The accent was clipped at the edges, but the pronunciation was precise.

Mikotoba blinked at him for a moment and then chuckled. "You always did have an excellent memory. It would be churlish of me not to accept your gracious apology."

"How generous of you."

"I must say, I'm surprised. I was under the impression that you no longer dabbled in our quaint Nipponese ways, but you've been slipping up today. You've picked up honorifics again, and you reordered Kazuma's family name earlier."

"Hm. I suppose you are the last one I might indulge in such frivolities with."

"Don't be obtuse. It could have gone a long way with Susato or Mr. Naruhodo. It could still go far with Kazuma. I am glad to see that you are not so changed after all."

Van Zieks's gaze sharpened then, searching Mikotoba's face. Whatever he found there made a grimace pull the corners of his mouth downwards.

"Oh," he said, sounding suddenly very tired again. "I do hope that is not what you were hoping to find."

"What do you mean?"

"If you were hoping to find that I am, somehow, secretly the same, or that some part of that child you remember survived… I am afraid you will be disappointed. He was one of the first casualties. Even if he could have recovered from Klint's death and Genshin's betrayal, he could not have survived the Reaper. I buried him and became someone else."

"Someone better?" Mikotoba asked, low and resigned.

Truly, it was too bad van Zieks was so insistent on leaving all the best parts of himself in the past. It was a shame to lose someone who had been so good.

"Certainly not," van Zieks said. "Someone different. Someone who could survive. Come now, Doctor. You understand. I was too naïve, too trusting, too utterly desperate to please. I could not have borne the scorn of London like that. Lord Stronghart might have been the mastermind, but… I am the Reaper of the Bailey. I built that like a suit of armor, to protect myself, and now it's the only thing left of me. I did try to warn you. I'm not a child anymore, and you'd do well to stop looking for something left over from those days. I do apologize that you've wasted the trip out here.

"I will mentor Mr. Asogi and shield him from the dangers here. I am already advocating for his return to the courtroom. His involvement in this ridiculous assassin exchange and altercation with Inspector Gregson have proven to be a massive headache, but I hope to avoid an official reprimand. I will try to guide him away from the mistakes the rest of us made.

"But that's all. It is a professional partnership. Please do not ask anything more of me. We will not be friends. I will not be making him 'feel welcome' by indulging in Nipponese eccentricities. Genshin is the one who taught me those things. He is synonymous with Japan to me, and I think of him every time. Every time. Everything Japanese reminds me of him. And I hate that. I cannot do it again."

What an utterly depressing, poignant plea.

"Very well," Mikotoba said. The promise to care for Kazuma on a practical, professional level was already generous enough. Demanding anything more than that would be uncalled for. "I will not ask anything more of you. You are already doing enough."

Van Zieks blew out a breath, shoulders relaxing as a tension Mikotoba hadn't noticed drained out of him. "Arigatou gozaimasu."

"You're welcome. Still, it's a shame. Mr. Naruhodo and his friends would be quite shocked if they knew what a deep fascination you used to have with our culture."

Van Zieks wrinkled his nose in a way that was surprisingly endearing rather than genuinely contemptuous. "More of a passing interest, really."

Mikotoba laughed. "Come now, Barok," he said before thinking better of it. "You used to hang on Genshin's every word. He found your boundless curiosity gratifying."

Van Zieks's gaze slid away. "He was homesick. He wanted to talk about his home and the family he left behind. It cost me nothing to ask questions and listen."

Mikotoba swallowed hard and took another step towards him. "Barok–"

"Don't," van Zieks said softly.

Mikotoba stopped, hesitated. "I'm not going to ask any more favors, only… Perhaps there will be nothing more than a professional tolerance between you and Kazuma now, but don't close yourself off entirely to the possibility of it one day becoming something more."

"I was hoping his loathing of me would preclude such a possibility."

"You are a stubborn one. You did start getting along better with Mr. Naruhodo eventually, and that wasn't so bad."

"Ah, Mr. Naruhodo. He is utterly frustrating in the courtroom and has a knack for getting involved in the most outlandish cases I've seen in all my life, but I do admit that court will be far less interesting without him. He does surprisingly well, for an amateur. He's improved a great deal since he first arrived here."

"Goodness, is that a compliment, Lord van Zieks?"

"Well, don't tell him so."

Mikotoba laughed. "Remarkable, really, that he achieved so much without a formal education and only a few weeks of reading books on a steamship."

"I think the hands-on experience did him more good," van Zieks said dryly. "He spent a great deal of time exploring nonsensical tangents in his first couple of cases, but his judgment grew more sound over time. Your daughter has been a great help to him… She is a fierce thing, in a quiet way, and remarkably clever. I am…pleased to see that you worked things out after all. She seems to hold you in high regard."

Mikotoba smiled a little sadly. "Yes. I did let her down, being away so long while she was a child, but I've done my best."

"You always worried too much. I told you that you'd do fine. And truly, she is an amazing young woman to be able to keep Mr. Naruhodo in line. The man is a disaster sometimes." Van Zieks heaved an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. "Would you believe he barged into my office like he owned the place and critiqued Klint's portrait? He said it was a terrible likeness of me and the artist 'exaggerated my handsomeness'."

Mikotoba raised a hand to his face. "Oh no."

"And then they debated whether I was murdering people and shoving the bodies into my wine casks. All within earshot, I might add. Nipponese politeness is greatly exaggerated."

Mikotoba groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Please allow me to apologize on their behalf. I thought they possessed more tact than that."

Van Zieks huffed out a small sound halfway to laughter. "It was galling at the time, but in hindsight, it's the most ludicrously amusing thing to happen in my office in ages."

Mikotoba risked another look at him, but he did seem genuinely amused, the harsh lines of his face softened.

"Don't mind him," Mikotoba said. "He doesn't mean to be rude. He just doesn't always think before he speaks."

"I'm well aware," van Zieks said dryly. "That's the most exasperating part. If you're going to insult a man, you might as well do it with purpose. What's the point of doing it on accident?"

Mikotoba chuckled. "I do hope Susato wasn't quite so gauche. I raised her better than that."

The humor faded from van Zieks's face. "No, she was not present for that particular encounter. I believe it was Miss Wilson who worried I might be storing corpses as macabre trophies. So that's off to a promising start."

Mikotoba blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden veering back into bleakness. "I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it. Children have wild imaginations, and hers is more vivid than most. Besides, she really was disappointed that you didn't come to your party."

"No, it's not her fault," van Zieks muttered. "Just another of those consequences I spoke of. I'm accustomed to the speculation."

But the hard-won camaraderie and edge of mirth were gone again, and the melancholy exhaustion Mikotoba had previously noted seemed somehow more pronounced.

"Just go to tea like you promised. You'll see."

"I said that I would, so I will."

"Not only once. You should get to know her."

"…I'm not sure that's wise."

"Whyever not?"

For the first time, van Zieks moved forward instead of back, stepping close and lowering his voice. "When the truth about Klint comes out, I expect a backlash. It will likely resurrect speculation about my complicity in the Reaper affair as well, given the unfortunate similarities. Acquittal or not, it makes a good story—the younger brother following the older into depravity. It would be better if she were not associated with me in any way when that happens."

"Will it truly be that bad? Are you going to publish the truth after all?"

"Yes, once I figure out the best way to go about it. This is not over, and I don't want her mixed up in it. If I had known the truth from the start, I would have fought against the Reaper accusations more vigorously. But it's too late now. If it were to be known that she was dear to me, she might become a target. Even if the rumors of the Reaper fade along with the murders… Whatever comes of this mess Klint left me may be just as bad. It would be better if I kept my distance."

Was that really all it would have taken for van Zieks to stand up for himself and fight back instead of letting Stronghart slander his name to all of London? Just knowing that he still had some family left to fight for?

Mikotoba would not have changed that, even if he could. He had followed Genshin's instructions, and he and Sholmes had done what they thought best for the child. But he did feel a pang of regret, knowing that their decision had robbed van Zieks of the one thing that might have pulled him from his self-destructive spiral.

"It's not too late," he said. "You can't give up before you've even started. She's always been avidly curious about her birth family, always looking for answers. And she's a clever girl… We've tried to keep the truth from her, but there's a good chance she'll figure it out on her own, I think. When she does, I expect she'll be keen to get to know you and hear more about her family."

Van Zieks barked out a quick, sharp sound somewhere between a sharp exhale and a bitter laugh. "And what shall I tell her, then, when she asks?" he hissed. "That her father was a serial killer who destroyed his family and the lives of countless others? That he tricked everyone into believing him a hero while he did it? That I perhaps never really knew him at all?"

"Lord Stronghart–"

"No. Don't make excuses. Klint made the first kill on his own, and he chose to continue, blackmail or not. And in doing so, he set this entire sordid affair into motion. I despise Lord Stronghart, I hold him responsible for this tragedy, but that does not excuse the actions of the people he manipulated. We still made our own choices, and we decided to commit crimes or look the other way. If Klint hadn't– If I'd–"

His breath hitched, voice catching, and he closed his eyes. Mikotoba reached out and grasped his hands, squeezing tightly. Van Zieks flinched and stiffened at the contact. He tried to pull away halfheartedly, but when Mikotoba held on, he resigned himself.

"What could you have done, really?" Mikotoba asked. "There was no defense to speak of. Genshin as good as confessed. Some half a dozen people were involved in covering it up. They went along with it because they all believed he was guilty, and they just needed to find a way to prove it."

"I didn't," van Zieks said, voice strained. "I didn't believe it when they told me. But then he had killed Klint, and we knew that for sure—we had witnesses who saw him leaving, we had that damned ring—and if he had killed Klint, then it didn't seem so insane anymore, that he had been the Professor all along. I tried to talk to him, I really did. I asked for answers, and he told me nothing. He just went along with it. But I should have known…"

"What do you think would have happened, even if you'd dug up the truth? Nothing linked Lord Stronghart to the matter besides Klint's will, which Genshin wouldn't give up, and his conspirators, who never cracked. Genshin would still be prosecuted for Klint's murder, so if he wanted to go home, he would have stuck by the bargain he made. The conspirators' careers would be ruined if their involvement was known. They closed ranks. Lord Stronghart would have had you declared unfit to continue the prosecution, said you were too inexperienced and weren't thinking clearly in your grief. He would have taken control of the case again and gotten his desired outcome anyway. You know that."

Van Zieks closed his eyes. "If Genshin hadn't dreamed up that ridiculous duel, this would have gone very differently. But Klint was… He started this, even if Lord Stronghart seized on it and turned it into something much bigger. And she knows, from listening in on the trial. If she's that eager to know her father and then finds out that… What am I supposed to tell her?"

"Tell her the rest of it," Mikotoba said gently. "You knew him before he fell from grace. You loved him, admired him, and it's alright to still feel that way. He was that person too. Who else will be able to tell her the good parts of her father so that she has something better to hold on to? You may take your precautions, but don't keep your distance just because you think you don't deserve it."

"…I don't know," van Zieks said, voice low. "I'll consider it."

He pulled his hands away and stepped back, retreating a couple of paces to a more comfortable distance. He did seem to like keeping his distance these days, even if he'd made an exception to discuss his niece in hushed tones in case the walls had ears.

"Thank you," van Zieks said, busying himself with rearranging his gloves as if Mikotoba might have somehow put them in disarray just by touching them. "For coming to say goodbye."

"Of course."

"Please allow me to extend my apologies for taking up so much of your time when you have more important matters to attend to."

"That's not–"

"I shall bid you farewell now. I was not lying that things are busier than ever. I have another diplomatic meeting this afternoon to discuss the terms of Mr. Asogi's probationary practice and a mountain of paperwork to complete. In the wake of recent revelations, we will also be conducting investigations to root out any other accomplices Lord Stronghart might have. I expect I'll be taking the lead on that initiative. The judiciary will need serious reforms. And I'll need to keep up with normal casework as well, for the sake of Mr. Asogi's apprenticeship."

"Don't work yourself to the bone."

"That's the way I like it." Van Zieks hesitated and then added, "One last thing. Regarding Mr. Asogi… When I said he reminded me of myself, it was not a compliment. He is skilled and talented and driven, and I believe he will excel as a prosecutor. However… He is in a…vulnerable position. It would be prudent for him to have some kind of emotional support during this turbulent period.

"Isolation…does strange things to one's head, and I do not think it will do him any favors. He already strikes me as a little bit unstable. If you still have any connections in London, you might consider making introductions before your departure. Even that so-called great detective of yours would be better than nothing, I suppose. Someone he might be able to rely on, as it were."

Mikotoba regarded him in surprise before smiling. "Your kind consideration is appreciated. As it happens, that thought had occurred to me as well. Thank you for your concern."

Van Zieks scrunched up his nose. "Given that I've vouched for him and what's left of my reputation is on the line, it's in my best interest that he doesn't crack under the pressure and assassinate someone."

"If you say so," Mikotoba said with a chuckle. "Although your reputation doesn't seem to have concerned you in any other matter." Van Zieks scoffed, and Mikotoba added, "Perhaps you might consider trying that yourself. Get to know your niece. You've been acquitted—let the Reaper die. You have the opportunity to turn your life around."

One corner of van Zieks's mouth curled upwards. For just a moment, his face was unguarded and open and resigned.

"This is the path I have chosen," he said with that soft, sad smile.

That was somehow worse than all the cold bitterness, the closed-off expression that at least meant there could be anything hiding behind it—anything less resigned and hopeless than this.

"But you said that you've made that choice every day since," Mikotoba said. "So that means that one day you could choose something else. It's like you said when I worried I was missing out on too much of Susato's life: we can't make up the time we've missed, but we can make the most of what we have left."

"Did I say that?" van Zieks murmured. "It sounds too optimistic."

"You were more optimistic then."

Van Zieks tilted his head, brows drawn together, and stayed quiet for a long time before saying, "I will consider it."

"Good. I'd feel better knowing you weren't just languishing."

"Oh, I'm well enough. It's not all doom and gloom, really. Just mostly." Van Zieks took on a more businesslike tone as he added, "I bid you safe travels. You may pass on my regards to your daughter and Mr. Naruhodo if you deem it appropriate."

"You could tell them yourself."

"Oh, no. I've caused them enough trouble already, I'm sure. I will leave them in peace as they prepare their departure."

"Don't be ridiculous. They'd like to say goodbye. Mr. Naruhodo, in particular, has expressed concern."

Van Zieks's brows knitted together. "Concern?"

"He feels badly about tearing open your scars and uncovering difficult truths while defending you."

Van Zieks blew out a harsh breath. "I would have thought he'd learned his lesson from Albert's trial: our job is to uncover the truth, not spare feelings. I bear him no ill will for that."

"I'm concerned too," Mikotoba said gently, and van Zieks looked away.

"Well, don't be. I've survived worse. He has already saved my life, for whatever that is worth. He need not concern himself with the fallout."

Mikotoba did not find this particularly reassuring. There was a resignation to van Zieks that concerned him greatly. Something in the way he spoke of himself and his future. Still, there was a hint of hope, a glimmer of the surviving remnants of a past life, and maybe that would pull him through.

"Just be careful," Mikotoba said. "Whatever consequences you are preparing yourself for… It sounds as if you are opening yourself up to a new set of dangers by publishing your exposé and poking at Lord Stronghart's conspiracy."

"I know. I'm always careful."

Mikotoba stepped forward and took van Zieks's hands in his one last time. "It does matter, Barok."

A startled look flashed across van Zieks's face, and he gave one halfhearted tug as if to pull away. "I–"

"It matters to me. Don't be careless with your life."

They stared at each other, Mikotoba trying to convey his earnestness and van Zieks looking at him as if he'd never seen him before. Mikotoba held on tight, afraid to let go until he knew things would be alright.

"I feel secure entrusting Kazuma to your care," he said. "But take care of yourself too. You were wrong, you know. This was not a wasted trip—I did find what I was looking for."

An odd look passed over van Zieks's face, something Mikotoba did not recognize from either his childhood or the newly hardened man he'd become. "How strange," he said, his voice sounding distant. "I'd forgotten what it was like."

"What what's like?"

"Not being hated. And I thought you'd have a better reason than most."

Abruptly, Mikotoba felt his face begin to crumple. "You–"

"No, don't fuss. I made sure I gave everyone cause for it." Van Zieks looked away and gave a firmer tug, and this time Mikotoba let him go. "It was nice to see you again," he said more briskly. "Keep an eye on Mr. Naruhodo. He is too trusting and has an unfortunate and inexplicable habit of trying to help people who neither want nor deserve it. And I'll watch over Mr. Asogi and try to keep him out of the crossfire arising from the unraveling of Lord Stronghart's conspiracy. I think that concludes our business here, so I will let you go. Good luck, Doctor."

And he might have turned and strode straight back to his office if hurried footsteps didn't come pattering across the tile. His face closed off, rearranging itself back into unforgiving lines, and he straightened himself out and squared his shoulders. Just like that, the armor of the Reaper was back in place, every crack sealed up so that no glimmer of the man underneath shone through. He did it with the quick and efficient ease of practice, and by the time Naruhodo came tripping around the corner, he was as cold and hard and unfriendly as ever.

"Oh!" Naruhodo said with surprise that seemed a little too exaggerated, stumbling to a stop. Kazuma followed after him at a slower pace, sighing, and Susato shook her head. "Lord van Zieks! What a surprise!"

Van Zieks stared back expressionlessly. "It may have escaped your notice, but I am employed here. It should not be surprising to find me directly outside my own office."

Kazuma rolled his eyes and kicked Naruhodo's ankle, muttering something under his breath that made the other man wince.

Mikotoba smiled. "Are you three finished talking already?"

"Oh…" Susato said, subdued. "Yes, I think so."

"Very good. I'm sure Lord van Zieks will be glad for you to take me off his hands."

"O-oh," Naruhodo stuttered. He was beginning to take on that shifty, wide-eyed look again, like he was preparing himself to do something particularly nerve-racking. "Yes, I'm sure he's very busy, only…" He darted a glance at van Zieks, who seemed unimpressed by his display of nerves. "I'm, um, glad to have caught you before we left, Lord van Zieks. I mean, just… We didn't see you after the trial, you know, and I thought we should say goodbye before we left."

Van Zieks's eyebrows rose minutely. "Goodbye, Mr. Naruhodo."

Naruhodo shifted awkwardly, stymied, but then rallied. "Very sorry again for how the trial turned out. I wish–"

"Don't," van Zieks sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead and closing his eyes. "You did your job and went to frankly unreasonable lengths to aid me. You may take pride in your impressive victory."

"Yes, but–"

"You have done enough, Mr. Naruhodo. I thank you for your assistance, and now it is time for you to move on." He dropped his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. "I trust you will derive satisfaction from terrorizing the prosecutors back in your homeland."

Naruhodo laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his head, and looked very lost at what exactly van Zieks meant or how he should respond. "Oh… I suppose so? It will be very different. Our legal system isn't as developed, so I'm sure I'll miss having that structure. And… You are, um, the best prosecutor I've ever faced. It won't be the same without you."

Van Zieks stared at him, stone-faced, and then looked at Mikotoba. "Tell me, Doctor, how many cases did Mr. Naruhodo defend before coming to London?"

Mikotoba smiled. "One."

Van Zieks looked back at Naruhodo, who was steadily turning red. "A truly generous compliment," he said in the driest voice Mikotoba had ever heard. "I shall cherish it as long as I live."

Kazuma actually coughed out a laugh before a hand flew to cover his mouth, and Susato looked torn between surprise and trying not to smile. Mikotoba chuckled at the unexpected bit of wry humor.

"I–I didn't mean it like that!" Naruhodo protested. "I mean, yes, you were not always very nice and definitely very scary, but you always worked with me to find the truth when we found inconsistencies, even if it meant you didn't win the case. You always did the right thing, and you're really very brilliant in the courtroom, although maybe you could smash less wine because it seems kind of wasteful and– Uh, never mind that. I'll miss facing you, that's all."

Van Zieks stared at him some more, and this time there was a shifting of his expression: the slightest narrowing of the eyes, a small purse of the lips, a minute raising of the brows. It was so minor a shift as to be nearly imperceptible, but it must have meant something.

"Not always very nice," he mused. "You do have a way of understating things, don't you? Good luck establishing your practice. I'm sure your particular brand of integrity will be well-suited for reforming the Japanese judicial system. I am glad to make you their problem again, although I admit that court will be far less interesting without your wild conjecture. Best of luck to you as well, Miss Mikotoba. Perhaps one day, when you outgrow your role as a judicial assistant, you will make a name for yourself in a more prominent position if your reforms go well."

Susato started in surprise. "O-oh… Thank you."

"Thank you," Naruhodo echoed. "I think?"

Van Zieks cut a sharp look at Kazuma. "Mr. Asogi, you may take off the rest of the day today and tomorrow. Return to the office once you've seen off your friends and are ready to get back to work."

Kazuma scowled. "I'm perfectly able–"

"You are not in the right state of mind, and the quality of your work has been frankly abysmal. In any case, you have not technically been approved to do casework again, so no one will protest your absence for a day or two."

"What?" Kazuma frowned. "Why do you have me working on your case files, then?"

This time, the lifting of van Zieks's eyebrows was pronounced. "Who is going to tell me not to?"

Kazuma blinked at him and then snorted loudly. "I guess having a reputation does come with some advantages."

"Yes. I won't expect to see you back in the office until Mr. Naruhodo and his companions are gone. And on that note…" Van Zieks sketched a bow, and Mikotoba wondered if he realized that the sharp, precise angle and lack of his usual flourish made it look more Japanese than English. It was impossible to tell whether the 'Nipponese frivolities' he'd indulged in were subconscious, resurrected from the murky depths of the past because Mikotoba's presence dredged up old memories, or chosen deliberately. "I bid you fair weather and safe travels. Goodbye."

His goodbye echoed with heavy finality, and he turned smartly on his heel and started back towards his office.

"Barok," Mikotoba called after him.

Van Zieks paused halfway inside the doorway, gloved fingers curling about the frame as he glanced back. "What now?"

"Make sure you write. I'll leave my address with Kazuma."

Van Zieks frowned, that gleam of suspicion back in his eyes again. "What for? If you want to check in on Mr. Asogi's progress, I'm sure he can inform you himself. I don't see what else we'd have to discuss."

"Don't be like that," Mikotoba said, half exasperated and half amused. "We're old friends, aren't we? We have a lot to catch up on, and we should keep in touch this time, don't you think?"

"…I will consider it."

Mikotoba smiled. It had the ring of a concession to it.

And then van Zieks was gone, disappearing into his office and shutting the door firmly behind him. That had a heavy air of finality to it as well, but Mikotoba hoped not. Even if they might not meet again in the foreseeable future, perhaps they wouldn't lose touch so completely this time.

No one said anything for a long time.

"Do you think he'll write?" Susato asked finally.

"Yes, I think so," Mikotoba said. "As long as I write first, at least."

"I can't believe you got him to talk to you so much," Naruhodo said in awe. "He always just gives me his 'I hate you' glare, but I don't think he's friendly with anyone, really."

"I can't believe you all thought it was appropriate to eavesdrop on a private conversation. You're lucky he was too distracted to notice."

Naruhodo turned promptly red again. "W-well, I– We– I mean, you were talking in the middle of the hall. We didn't mean to pry, really, only we were already there, you see, and we…just…didn't leave? But it was still rude, so… Very sorry about that."

"Still…" Mikotoba mused, ignoring the bumbling apology. "You aren't wrong. He shut down the conversation quite neatly in his office. I didn't think I was going to get anything out of him. I don't know why he changed his mind and decided to humor me."

But there were no answers to be found there, and Mikotoba was about to suggest they return to Baker Street when Kazuma spoke up.

"Do you really think he knew?" he asked abruptly. His mouth was pinched into a sour expression, his eyes stormy. "Who I was, all along?

"I don't see why he'd lie."

"He did, though. Lie."

"About what?" Naruhodo asked with a frown.

Kazuma said nothing for a long moment, lips pressed so tightly shut that they went white and bloodless, but then, with great reluctance, as if each word was dragged from him with an effort, he said, "He said that he wasn't kind to me."

Mikotoba tilted his head, considering.

"Was he?" Susato asked, surprised.

Kazuma shrugged and scowled at the ground. "Not always. He always kept his distance, and I could sense from the beginning that he didn't like me, that I was…hurting him, somehow, just by being there. But he can be kind in his own ways, if you know what to look for. I thought he was softening, and–" He broke off, shaking his head. "It made me very angry when I realized who he was, because I respected him. And now… I don't see why he would have bothered if he knew from the start."

Mikotoba smiled sadly. He didn't think Kazuma would appreciate hearing how similar that sounded to why van Zieks had been so devastated by Genshin's betrayal. Maybe he would realize it himself one day, and it would forge a deeper understanding between the two men. But it was still too soon, too raw, and Kazuma had a lot to process and work through.

"It's natural to still be hurt and angry," Mikotoba said. "Still… I'm glad to hear that he did care for you, even knowing the truth. That bodes well for your future partnership. But if he seems colder than before… He's afraid of you, Kazuma."

"Afraid?" Kazuma scoffed. "Of me?"

"Yes. He doesn't want to get attached because last time… It shattered him when things went wrong. A mentor-apprentice relationship can be purely professional, but it can very easily start to blur the lines when you are reliant on someone or taking care of someone. He is afraid of caring too deeply and being wounded again, and so he would rather not care at all. He may not have agreed to continue your training if you didn't hate him. He knows how to handle hatred. He's not ready for more than that."

Kazuma mashed his lips together and said nothing. Naruhodo shifted from foot to foot, glancing uneasily at the closed door farther down the hall. It was Susato who found her voice first.

"That's actually…quite sad," she said.

"Yes," Mikotoba agreed.

"He said that he didn't trust anyone," Naruhodo said. "When I finally convinced him to let me defend him in his trial. That he protected himself by refusing to trust anyone again, but sometimes the darkness he'd lost himself in made it… How did he put it? 'Almost impossible to breathe?' He said that he needed to believe in me, in something, and that's why he agreed to let me advocate for him. It must have been…a very difficult thing for him to ask."

"It's a good start, at least. Putting his trust in you was a big step."

Kazuma did not seem interested in speculating about his mentor's state of mind. "He knows Japanese too? I can't even mutter to myself when he's being insufferable?"

Mikotoba laughed. "I wouldn't say he's fluent, but I don't know the extent of his knowledge. He was always very polite and well-mannered… He learned the basic pleasantries. Beyond that, I can't say. I think he picked up an eclectic mix of things—a few words and traditions here and there. If it's something you learned from your father, there's a greater chance that Lord van Zieks heard it from him too."

Kazuma glared at the floor. "…I find it discomfiting that he knows my father better than I do."

Mikotoba dropped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "I understand how galling that must be. That being said… It's also an opportunity. If there ever did come a time when you two reached an understanding… He would be able to tell you a great many things that you might find valuable."

Kazuma's frown only deepened, and he folded his arms across his chest.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Susato wondered aloud.

Mikotoba sighed. "That I don't know, my dear. He has been very deeply unhappy for a very long time. But there's a glimmer of hope there, if he's willing to take it. Only he can decide that, and we've done what we can. I think it's time for us to take our leave. We still need to finish preparing for our departure."

There were, after all, still a number of goodbyes to give, and he doubted that Sholmes's would be any easier.

---

Mikotoba gave one last wave and then leaned his forearms on the railing, watching the figures on the dock grow smaller and smaller as the ship chugged out of the harbor. Iris still waved enthusiastically, bouncing up and down on her heels, even though her eyes were wide and shiny with moisture. Mikotoba wished he'd had more time to get to know her, but at least Sholmes would provide updates in his letters. Sholmes hovered just behind her, and although he still wore his usual enthusiasm and had borne their parting goodbyes with the same marked lack of solemnity, Mikotoba had noted a gritty edge behind his smile. He would be fine, of course. He always bounced back quickly. But he was also prone to fits of melancholy, and it seemed like another was on the horizon. Mikotoba would send a telegram from their first port of call, just to check in.

And then there was Kazuma, of course, standing beside them but apart. He had waved as they boarded but since dropped his hand, smile fading. That goodbye had been the hardest, even though Mikotoba had known well in advance of Kazuma's plans to travel abroad and study for an extended period. Nothing had gone as planned. Thinking Kazuma had died, hearing that he had gone missing, finding him again in an almost feral state as he spiraled away from himself… Mikotoba was glad Kazuma was safe, but he wished they didn't have to leave him alone so soon on the heels of everything that had transpired.

"I'm going to miss them," Susato sighed from where she hung over the railing between her father and Naruhodo. "London is such an interesting place, and I grew quite fond of Iris and Mr. Sholmes. And we just found Kazuma-sama again… It's nice to go home, but this was a home too, I suppose."

"Yes, it was quite an adventure," Naruhodo said wistfully. "It's a shame we couldn't stay longer. But I'm glad that you were willing to accompany me. You've been such a great help, and it wouldn't be the same without you."

Susato flushed and averted her gaze. "O-of course, Naruhodo-san. I hope to help you however I can."

Mikotoba hid a smile. He was just glad they had finally come to an agreement instead of tiptoeing around the issue of whether Susato would return to Japan or stay behind. While he would have liked to know Kazuma had a companion from home, Susato and Naruhodo had formed a deep bond that seemed a shame to break. Besides, he would be lying if he said he wasn't pleased that his daughter would be staying closer to home.

"I hope he'll be alright," Naruhodo muttered, and no context was needed.

"I wish we weren't leaving so soon after finding him again," Susato said.

"I'm sure–" Mikotoba paused as he caught sight of another figure farther down the dock. "Goodness," he said in surprise. "I didn't expect Lord van Zieks to come see us off."

Van Zieks stood like a scarecrow looking out over the ocean, arms folded over his chest, staying well out of the way on the other side of the dock where it turned sharply and ran along the other moorings. Mikotoba waved, not sure the man would even notice, but after a moment, van Zieks lifted one arm, two gloved fingers raised in acknowledgement, and then crossed it again over the other.

"Wow!" Naruhodo said, goggle-eyed. "I didn't either. He seemed ready to be rid of us, honestly."

"Well, he was probably ready to be left alone after such a trying conversation," Susato said diplomatically.

As the ship sailed on and the figures on shore grew smaller, van Zieks stirred himself to action. He strode briskly away, cloak billowing behind him in the sea breeze, and turned down the arm of the dock where the farewell party still held vigil.

"Oh," Mikotoba said, a smile creeping across his face. "He didn't come to say goodbye at all. He already did that yesterday."

"Huh?" Naruhodo said.

In the distance, van Zieks drew to a stop and dropped a stiff hand on Kazuma's shoulder. Kazuma started in surprise and turned back. They were too far away for Mikotoba to make out their words or facial expressions, and he had no idea what tone the exchange took.

"He came for Kazuma."

The figures on shore stood facing each other for a few moments longer, and then Kazuma brushed past van Zieks and started back down the dock. Van Zieks turned to Sholmes and Iris and offered them a courtly bow before starting after his apprentice, cloak fluttering behind him as his long strides ate up the ground.

"I wonder why," Susato said. "Lord van Zieks told Kazuma-sama not to work today, so they shouldn't have professional business."

"I'm sure I don't know, my dear," Mikotoba said, wishing he could have been a fly on the wall for the exchange. "But I'll tell you this: there is a kindness buried in that man still, and I'll eat my hat if he hasn't grown fond of Kazuma already in the time they've worked together, even if he's not ready to admit it."

"Do you really think so? I thought you said he was determined not to do that."

Mikotoba thought back to everything van Zieks had said about Kazuma and everything he pointedly had not, the hesitant concern disguised as practical necessity, the desperation edging the plea not to expect him to befriend his apprentice. Sometimes it took reading between the lines to find the honesty buried in matters of the heart.

"Oh, yes," he said softly. "I think so. He would not be so afraid otherwise."

Naruhodo, oblivious, said, "I'd really like to see you eat your hat. It sounds dreadful but hilarious."

"Oh, Naruhodo-san," Susato sighed in exasperation. She looked back at her father. "Do you think they'll be alright?"

Mikotoba watched the two figures keeping pace with each other: white and black, East and West, light and shadow, apprentice and mentor. So entirely opposite, from completely different worlds, and yet so very much alike. The same dreams and resentments, hopes and wounds, goals and mistakes—overlapping at the edges as if just a little out of focus with the distance of a decade spanning between them.

It would be a long road for both of them. They were both bitter, mistrustful, and deeply, deeply scarred by the past. There was no way to tell, really, if they would be able to overcome their traumas and find a path to healing, either together or apart. But.

Despite his fears, his mistrust, his insistence that things would continue exactly as they were without room for improvement, van Zieks had come today and reached out to Kazuma. And despite his hatred, his resentment, his muddled and volatile emotions, Kazuma had reached back.

And that was a start. That was a glimmer of hope, the edge of a silver lining. It was a possibility that things could get better, that they might be willing to try.

"I certainly hope so," Mikotoba said. "I think they can be, if they try for it."

And that was enough to settle his heart as he turned his face homeward, secure in both what he was leaving behind and what he carried with him.