The Aftermath

by asexual_enjoys_fanfic

Summary:

After the events of The Great Ace Attorney, Ryunosuke’s story is resolved. But for many characters, their story is just beginning. This is the story of those that were left behind in London.

Most of the relationships are just yearning and not quite a tangible thing. They’re also not the focus; the focus is on the characters and their struggles and their relationships with each other.

I will leave content warnings in the notes above each chapter.

Notes:

For the first 5 chapters, the point of view will alternate, but the timeline will be the same. Every character experiences something different upon the time of Ryunosuke’s departure, so I felt it was important to give them each one chapter during the same period of time to delve into it. After the initial 5 chapters, the story will continue to progress in a normal, chronological manner by chapter, still alternating points of view to characters not in any particular pattern, but just as needed.

Content warning for migraines, alcoholism, and mentions of suicide

Chapter 1: Kazuma

In a way, I suppose I deserved it. 

 

To be abandoned after I’d turned my back on everyone I’d ever cared for. My best friend and my faithful judicial assistant left me behind without a second thought. 

 

And since Stronghart paid for my hotel during the time I was prosecuting Lord van Zieks, once I was back from the docks, I was forced to turn back to the man I tried to throw in jail. 

 

“What do you want?” Lord van Zieks asked as I stood on his doorstep. He looked dreadful; it was only 7 PM, yet he wore twisted nightclothes and his hair was tousled. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he swayed a little on his feet. 

 

“I have nowhere to stay.” I bowed my head deeply, “I don’t expect you to-” 

 

“Clearly you do, or else you wouldn’t be here.” He snapped, and I began regretting my decision to come here. Perhaps the streets would’ve been better, “Stand up straight. And get out of the rain.” 

 

So, I stepped inside, and he reluctantly told me that I could have my old room back until a decision was reached by whoever would be appointed Chief Justice. “What kind of decision do you think will be made?” 

 

“I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t care. Now, you know where your room is. Go there and stay there.” Before I had the chance to do either of those things, he stormed off, or at least tried to, but it was clear he was under the influence of something .

 

After the news he’d received yesterday, I couldn’t exactly blame him. 

 

The very next morning, breakfast was delivered to my bedroom by his head servant, along with a note.

 

If it does not inconvenience you, I would appreciate it if you remained in this hall. If you must go outside, use the door in the kitchen. I would like privacy in my own home at this time. 

 

I was lucky he was even housing me, so I followed his request, but only a few days passed before the new Chief Justice was appointed, and we were called into his office. Not much of the office had changed, though the suits of armor had been removed. The man himself rose from his desk to greet us, surprisingly not much taller than me, but regardless he held an air of authority. He appeared to be a man in his mid-fifties, maybe later, with a clean-kept beard which was graying quicker than his head, but not by a large margin.

 

“Lord van Zieks. It feels strange calling you that.” The man remarked as he shook his hand, his voice echoing through the large room. Unlike Stronghart, however, his voice carried a friendly lilt to it. A sign of both authority and benevolence. At least, for my sake, I certainly hoped so. I wonder how he knows him..? 

 

“Lord Pritchard. Congratulations on your new position.” Lord van Zieks seemed to regard him with respect, the way he bowed slightly to him. 

 

“Thank you.” He turned to me with his sharp, so brown they were almost black eyes, and suddenly, I felt quite small. “Mr. Asogi.” He held out his hand, and I shook it, though his grip was far firmer than I expected, “I was in attendance at the trial, of course. So I’m fully aware of your history.” 

 

I was preparing to bow and apologize when he added, “I understand your position. You were blackmailed, in a way, by a very powerful member of the judiciary. You were a young man with your whole life ahead of you. He had the potential to destroy it.” I wasn’t sure what to say. “You’re a capable attorney.”

 

“Thank you.” I managed to say, though my voice felt quiet and tinny in my own ears.  

 

“I’ve given this a great deal of thought, you understand. And I believe, for now, I will allow you to stay, but in a sort of probationary role with restrictions. Firstly, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to carry any weapons.” 

 

No weapons? Van Zieks and I get into so many fights- “But, my Lord, I need this-” 

 

“I’ve quite made up my mind.” 

 

“With all due respect, My Lord, you’re aware that I get attacked often .” Lord van Zieks added in my defense.

 

“Then he’d best stay away from you.” He gave a stiff smile, “I must insist, you will not carry any weapons until further notice. So, I will have to confiscate that sword.” 

 

“The sword is my property.” Lord van Zieks interjected. 

 

“Perfect! That means I don’t have to keep track of it.” So, I begrudgingly detached it from my hip and handed it back to Lord van Zieks. “Excellent. Now; the other terms.” 

 

His other terms were simple and understandable, if not aggravating. I was to continue under Lord van Zieks as his apprentice. I could assist him in court, and I could go to crime scenes as long as I was supervised. But no handling cases on my own. 

 

I supposed I was lucky I wasn’t being deported, so I agreed. I was especially happy when I found out I’d get a stipend. “Lord Stronghart never gave me a stipend.” I commented stupidly. 

 

“Well, he wasn’t exactly a nice fellow, was he?” He joked sarcastically, then wrote out a check at his desk, “This is all I’m authorized to give you at this time. Just to help you get on your feet, you understand.” 

 

I’d never had this much money in my life. Granted, it wasn’t a large sum by any means, but it was certainly more than I earned at my part time job in Japan. “Thank you, my Lord.” 

 

I moved out of Lord van Zieks’s house by the end of the week. The new place was small, the walls were only a little thicker than the shoji screens back home, the wallpaper was peeling off, and the neighbors gave me dirty looks anytime they saw me, but it was a place of my own. A place where I didn’t have to worry about disturbing a drunkard who was quick to anger.

 

The mood of the office was stifling. Lord van Zieks looked worse than I’d ever seen him, and he declined lunch every day. He started looking paler and thinner as the weeks passed, but I didn’t dare say anything. His health wasn’t my responsibility, especially since he was treating me even colder now than he did before I regained my memory. 

 

There was a knock on the door. I turned just in time to see Lord van Zieks’s head jerk up from his hand as the door opened to a bobby, “There’s been a murder over on Lumpert street.” 

 

He dropped his quill into the ink pot with a heavy sigh, mumbling something I couldn’t hear under his breath. “Are there any detectives present?” 

 

“Jr. Inspector Lestrade sent for you, if she counts.” 

 

“Excellent. Mr. Asogi, go.” 

 

I stared at him in amazement, “Me? By myself?” 

 

“Did you not hear me?” 

 

Is his memory slipping? “Lord Pritchard said you had to supervise me-” 

 

“He said that you had to be supervised. He didn’t specify by whom . I assume a Jr. Inspector on the scene should be adequate supervision, yes?” He directed his attention to the bobby, who looked quite put on the spot. 

 

“I would imagine so, sir.” 

 

“Then go.” 

 

Leaving the office was a breath of fresh air. Lumpert street wasn’t very far from the offices, so I walked, admiring the light snowfall and the bustle of the streets as people went about their lives. I wondered if I’d ever be among them, living a quiet and serene life without all of these worries. It was wishful thinking, but I suppose I was feeling optimistic that day. 

 

Feeling refreshed, I opened the door to the crime scene and-

 

My favorable mood was ruined. 

 

“Gina, I’m telling you, the victim was killed when he ingested this furniture polish!” The great detective, Herlock Sholmes, held a bottle directly in front of Lestrade’s face.

 

“And wot the blazes would ‘e do that for, eh?!” She argued and swatted the bottle out of her face. “Just leave the investigatin’ to me!” 

 

“I think you mean your superior, Inspector Marshall.” Sholmes smirked. 

 

“Well, ‘e’s left the investigatin’ to me, and so should you!” 

 

At this moment, Sholmes caught my eye over her shoulder and positively lit up,  “Mr. Asogi! Surely you will see sense, hm?” 

 

He grabbed me by my shoulders and dragged me from the entryway into the living area, “The victim was found lying on this sofa here, and there are no signs of struggle besides this bottle, upturned on the floor. This bottle contained furniture polish. I believe you overheard my conclusion.” 

 

“Yes, I did…” I grumbled and shrugged off Sholmes’s possessive arms, “Lestrade, what are your conclusions?” 

 

She put her hand to her chin in thought, “Not quite sure yet. We’ve combed the whole place and can’t find a single lead. S’pose it all rides on what Ria’s autopsy shows.”

 

“How long has the body been removed?”

 

“About an hour ago. She should have somefin’ by now… wanna go wiv me?” 

 

“I don’t see why not.” To be honest, I would love to; it meant leaving the sight of this detective and not having to be alone with a corpse and a woman wielding a cleaver. 

 

Truthfully, I’d rather not go into the place at all. The smell of disinfectant was strong enough to give anyone a headache, assuming you went in after the subject of Dr. Gorey’s work had long been removed. If you go in while a corpse is still there, expect to struggle not to lose your lunch. 

 

Unless you’re Lord van Zieks, I suppose, because he seemed utterly unaffected by it when we first went. 

 

I was surprised when Lestrade knocked on the door instead of flinging it open, and called, “Ria!!!” 

 

“Gina!!! Perfect timing, I’ve just made a wonderful discovery. Do come in!” 

 

“Is the bloke open on yer table?”

 

“Oh, right!” Muffled shuffling came from inside, “One second, I’ll come out there.” 

 

Dr. Gorey finally opened the door, her apron stained a color that I didn’t want to focus on. “I see we have an uncommon visitor.” She commented with a gleam in her eye, “Too bad you’re alive. I still really want to cut open an Eastern corpse.” 

 

I tried to swallow my uneasiness and move on, noticing the papers in her hands, “Do you have a report?”

 

“Not a report , but preliminary notes.” She handed them to Lestrade, but explained them in her own words to both of us, “Suspecting poisoning, I first checked the contents of his stomach. He’d consumed a significant amount of alcohol, but I couldn’t find anything suspicious.”

 

“Was it enough alcohol to kill him, perhaps?” I stopped her before she could continue her quick-paced rant. 

 

“No.” She said very definitively, “On a hunch, I checked his body extra carefully and discovered a small puncture wound in his thigh.” 

 

“Stabbed in the thigh? What a way to go.” Lestrade commented. 

 

“Not stabbed. Shot. Likely by a syringe.” 

 

“Was there a similar mark on his clothing?”

 

“That’s just the thing!” She said with a bright smile, “There’s not, which indicates that he was injected while his thighs were exposed.” 

 

“Have you determined the type of poison?” I pressed. 

 

“No, I just made this discovery only a few moments ago; I’ll have to go test the blood.” 

 

“Well, you’ve been very helpful, thank you.” 

 

“Mhm. I’ll get back to it!” 

 

We went back to the crime scene just to double-check our work, but really, there was nothing else to do. Once I’d put off going back to the office as much as I could, I sighed and took my leave. 

 

It was just as stifling as it was when I left. 

 

Only, a few hours later, Dr. Gorey dropped in. She glanced between the two of us with a file in her hands, and Lord van Zieks nodded to me. “Well, I’ve got the results.” 

 

She explained that he was killed with a slow-acting poison, one that would’ve probably been administered 8 to 10 hours prior to the incident. “Gina and I have dinner plans tonight and we plan to discuss the next course of action. Would you like to come?” 

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

 

“You’re not intruding! You’re a part of this investigation now, too.” She turned backward to Lord van Zieks, “If you’d like, you can come as well.” 

 

To no one’s surprise, he declined, but made sure I knew I was free to go. 

 

So, feeling unable to decline, I grabbed my cloak and joined her, finding that Lestrade was waiting in the carriage parked in the street. I expected it to be awkward but the moment I entered, they were both excitedly speculating about the case. 

 

“His Aunt claims he just got back from some trip the day before he croaked, but she don’t know when.” Lestrade explained, “I’ve got the lads lookin’ into it now.” 

 

“And Herlock Sholmes, I’ve no doubt.” I mumbled under my breath. 

 

She groaned, “He’s right mad, he is! Furniture polish! Are ya bloody kiddin’ me?!” I couldn’t help but chuckle. 

 

“What about his successes, though?” 

 

“Few and far in-between. Without Oddo around, he’s helpless.” 

 

“Who?” Dr. Gorey asked.

 

“Oddo.” She repeated, like we should’ve known upon hearing it another time. She groaned in frustration, “Ya know, the Japanese bloke!” 

 

I was utterly amazed by how his name could be so horribly butchered and shortened, “ Ryunosuke Naruhodo? ”

 

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She didn’t seem to have a care in the world about being utterly unwilling to learn to pronounce his name, “He was always fixing wot Sholmes screwed up. I dunno how he’ll manage to pay the bills wivout him.” 

 

“I have a feeling Iris has a large hand in the bills with her Randst columns.” Dr. Gorey theorized, “You know, they’re quite good, especially for a kid her age.” 

 

The conversation lulled while we transitioned from coach to restaurant, but once we’d ordered, it picked right back up, speculating about the murder and discussing the facts. Along with ordering a drink or two. When we’d exhausted the murder, Dr. Gorey asked, “I know you’ve been here for quite a while, but how are you liking London?”

 

“Honestly, I despise the place.” I admitted bluntly, the alcohol doing me no favors, “It’s always rainy and foggy, everyone avoids you like the plague- well, me, anyway, and your food is terrible .” 

 

She laughed, “I’ve heard that from visitors before.” 

 

“I’d like to see where you come from, then.” Lestrade commented. 

 

“You’re welcome to visit.” I replied a bit snarkily.

 

“I ain’t never even left London . I dunno about goin’ ‘round the world.” 

 

I shrugged, “It’s not so bad.” 

 

The evening continued like that, just casual talk until eventually, they dropped me off a little ways from my complex (truth be told, I knew Dr. Gorey likely lived in a place similar to Lord van Zieks, and I didn’t want her to see my shabby rooms.) 

 

However, on my walk, I discovered a very small, black cat rummaging through a trash can. “Can you not find anything in there?” It rushed to get out, then hid in the back of the alley. I’ve got some bread at home that’s about to go bad… 

 

So I brought it outside, and sat it down in the alley. I walked a reasonable distance away and waited to see if it would actually eat it. Luckily, after a brief hesitation, it did so, catching my eye and looking at me suspiciously. “It’s okay, friend. I’m not trying to hurt you.” 

 

Once the bread was gone (which was alarmingly fast, I must add,) I slowly kneeled and held my hand out. It eyed me suspiciously, came forward to sniff, then nudged my hand with its head. I took the signal to pet, and started lightly scratching it on top of the head, “Do you like that? Oh, you like under the chin, don’t you?” It did, purring gently as I scratched it.

 

It came even closer, in fact, and I ended up staying outside for longer than I meant to. And by the time I started walking home, I shouldn’t have been surprised that it followed me. 

 

The last thing I needed was something else to worry about. And yet this little cat was looking up at me with the most adorable, pleading eyes. How was I supposed to say no? 

 

So, I allowed it to come inside, soon finding out it was a her. And only one name came to mind; the woman who raised me, and who raised the cats my father kept while he was away in Britain; Kaya Asogi. 

 

“Do you like the name Kaya?” 

 

She meowed and nudged me in response, so it was settled.

 

The only other thing of note that happened that week was when Herlock Sholmes and Iris barged into the office to force Lord van Zieks and I into lunch, but under the guise of delivering a letter to me from Japan. It was probably the most awkward lunch I’d ever eaten in my entire life, Iris so bubbly in contrast to Lord van Zieks’s stiffness, and I suppose my own coldness. 

 

As soon as I got home, I ripped that envelope open, and steeled myself for a stern talking-to.

 

Sure enough, there were multiple pieces of paper inside, the one on top I recognized as Professor Mikotoba’s handwriting. 

Dear Asogi, 

 

I apologize that we had to leave so soon. I very much worry about you in Britain by yourself. I know I struggled with racial discrimination, and that was before two Japanese lawyers took down the Chief Justice. 

 

If you’d like to come home, we would be happy to have you. Regardless of what you almost did, you are still a part of this family. 

 

Please let us know how you’re doing. Stay well, eat well, rest when you need to, and become the best man you can be. I believe in you. 

 

To save room in the envelope, the rest of this paper is Susato. 

 

I put the letter down before I could even get there, my eyes blurring with burning moisture. I tried to kill someone. Why doesn’t Professor Mikotoba care? Or does he, and these words are empty? 

 

Professor Mikotoba had never been much of a liar, though. Whether it was in writing or otherwise. 

 

I took a moment to collect myself, then continued. 

 

Good afternoon, Kazuma-sama. Like Father said, I’m sorry I left. I know I really should’ve stayed with you. I think I just missed home. I missed Father. I missed Rei. Much like you must miss Naruhodo-san. 

 

You’re an easy-going person. Surely you can make some more friends in London. I know they won’t be the same, but they could help. Perhaps you could try to befriend Iris and Mr. Sholmes, I’m sure they’d be happy to have you. 

 

Just don’t isolate yourself, please. Keep that confidence you had while you were here. Hold your head high. Don’t let any of those stuffy Englishmen intimidate THE Kazuma Asogi, hair-doing expert. 

 

As Father said, stay in touch. I hope to see you soon. 

 

Signed, Yujin and Susato Mikotoba 

 

The memory of doing Susato’s hair before any major events she had to attend because Professor Mikotoba didn’t know how struck me harder than it really should’ve. Then all the times we rough-housed as younger kids. All the time I spent in the kitchen, learning how to cook her favorite foods, and eventually teaching her. Teaching her how to do her own hair. Teaching her how to speak English. 

 

As much as I’d denied considering myself a part of their family, I was. And while I didn’t consider myself Mikotoba’s son by any means whatsoever, over time, I had most definitely grown to subconsciously consider Susato something of a sister. And realizing that while they were all the way across the world was absolutely soul crushing. 

 

I nearly forgot that Ryunosuke had written me a letter at all in the midst of all of those emotions. It was almost as if Kaya could sense my uneasiness, because she curled up on top of one of my feet. 

 

Dear Kazuma, 

 

I hope you’re doing well, although I’m sure everyone is saying that. I’ve been incredibly busy and I’ve been struggling to find the right words for you. I’m tired of waiting for them to come, so I’m just writing something, and hoping it’s okay. 

 

I reflected on our time on the S.S. Burya. 

 

My heart sunk at the line. In truth, I couldn’t remember most of our time there. Only that it was the tip of the iceberg. 

 

You were planning to try to use me as your defence attorney after murdering Gregson, I see that now. But you weren’t necessarily pleased about it. And because of the fact that once you had your memories back, you still couldn’t follow through, I don’t believe you would have if everything went according to plan. Deep down, I think you wanted my help. Not my complicity. You wanted me to help you find a way to escape it. 

 

I’m not sure what else to say. I hope you aren’t being too harsh on yourself. I know you have a tendency to do so. Just think of it this way; no harm came from anything you did. No real harm. You were a cog in a bigger system, and an easily replaceable cog, at that. If you didn’t agree to prosecute Lord van Zieks, Stronghart would have done it himself. 

 

Take care of yourself, Kazuma. I’d really like to see you again soon and healthy. 

 

Sincerely, Ryunosuke Naruhodo 

 

Ryunosuke had always been soft-hearted, but he’d never been good with his words. But in this letter, much like in court last time, he was perfectly articulated and expressive. In all of the worst ways for me. 

 

The man was too kind. Too kind for his own good. He always had been. 

 

While I couldn’t accept his words right now, they were at least something I could reference later. 

~~~~

When I went into work the next morning, I certainly was not expecting the Lord Chief Justice to be sitting at Lord van Zieks’s desk. “My Lord.” I greeted hesitantly, “I hope you weren’t waiting on me-” 

 

“I knew I was arriving early.” He explained casually, looking through Lord van Zieks’s papers. “I’m working on dividing these papers in half. But I’m having to dig through his notes to see where there is a divide, so that I can take some papers away, and leave papers for you.” 

 

“Where did Lord van Zieks go..?” 

 

“Taking a much-needed vacation, and spending time with a friend.” I raised my eyebrows at that, “I may or may not have told him he can’t come back for a week.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“It was clear the man needed a break.” He was right, but I was surprised he cared. “But as we’re on the subject, how has he been to you?” 

 

I hesitated under his gaze, again wondering if this was someone I could trust, “It’s hard to answer honestly when I know you have a personal connection with him.” 

 

He flashed a confident smile in response, “I assure you, I will not jump to his defense. He’s a difficult man, and I’ve heard he has been quite prejudiced for many years. I assure you, whatever you say will stay between us.” 

 

If he’s sure, then… “It’s difficult, as you said. He’s very cold, and I’m, well… also cold, I suppose. It’s difficult to forgive him, and I’m sure he feels the same way about me.” 

 

“Does it affect your work?” 

 

“Not that I’ve noticed.” 

 

“He’s not short with you while giving you advice or reviewing?” 

 

I hesitated again, tilting my head, “Over the past week or so he’s been more high-strung than normal, so he has been a bit short, but before then he was giving me helpful pointers and advice. Just, usually with a peppered insult or slight somewhere, but as far as I can tell it’s not vicious.” 

 

“I see. He was nothing like this as a young man. The polar opposite. Of course, I’d heard rumors, but I hadn’t expected him to remain cold whenever I spoke to him privately. I figured his cold persona was an act.” 

 

“I highly doubt it.” 

 

“Well, that’s enough speculation.” He gathered a stack of papers, “You will let me know if there are any problems in the future?” 

 

“Yes, my Lord.” 

 

“Excellent.” 

 

So, the work was divided, and I was working much longer hours than usual. It was only now that I really began to realize that Lord van Zieks was not giving me half of the paperwork previously. 

 

I had headaches nearly daily. I made sure I was resting a somewhat appropriate amount, but by lunchtime, that dull throbbing would always return. I was ready for Lord van Zieks back in the office on Monday, and was surprised to see only the Chief Justice instead. We both waited for some time before he decided he’d drop by his residence to ensure his safety. 

 

“I want to come.” 

 

“Really? I thought you disliked each other?” 

 

Oh, we do. I just don’t hate him enough to wish him harm. “He’s still my boss. I’m still worried.” 

 

So, we rode together, and appeared at his doorstep. I must admit, despite how angry he made me, my heart was thrumming out of my chest as we waited for an answer to the doorbell. 

 

The door finally opened to the head servant, Ms. Simms, “Oh! Is something the matter?” She asked, recognizing both of us instantly. 

 

“That’s what I was going to ask you .” Lord Pritchard replied, “Lord van Zieks was due back for work today. Have you heard from him recently?” 

 

“Yes. I served he and his friend breakfast this very morning.” 

 

“It’s not like him to avoid going to work.” I blurted out. 

 

“You’re right, it’s not. But his spirits have seemed to be better with Mr. Harebrayne around, and I think he’s trying to savor the time before he has to go back to Germany.” 

 

“Do you know when that may be?” 

 

“I do not.” 

 

“Well, let him know he can take as much time as he needs or even wants. But I can’t guarantee I won’t be down here again to check up on him.” Lord Pritchard concluded with a short bow. 

 

“Of course. I’ll pass it along. Thank you.” 

 

We said our goodbyes, and the door shut. “Very strange man, indeed.” Lord Pritchard seemed to mumble to himself as we made our way back to the carriage. 

 

As I worked into the night, my headache seemed to intensify. But I knew I had to get these documents done, and I had to get them done tonight. 

 

Until I started seeing bright, white flashing lights in the bottom half of my vision. 

 

I groaned and shut my eyes, though that only made the flashing appear even brighter. I grabbed my head and took a few deep breaths, nausea beginning to settle into my stomach on top of it all. 

 

When the door unexpectedly burst open, I winced and clutched my head tighter, especially as it was accompanied by Lestrade all but shouting, “Soggy!” 

 

I took a deep breath to settle the nausea and turned around, “Soggy?” My voice was weak in my own ears. 

 

“You look terrible.” Dr. Gorey observed. I didn’t have the energy to think of a rebuttal. I shut my eyes for a moment, and was quite surprised to feel a cold hand on my forehead. I recoiled, but Dr. Gorey didn’t seem to care, “You’re not feverish, but you’re very pale. Do you have any symptoms?” 

 

“Don’t trouble yourself with me-” 

 

“I may specialize in dead people, but I am a trained doctor. And I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.” 

 

I sighed in defeat, “I have a headache. And it includes these, um… blinking lights and, uh- stomach sickness. There. Are you happy?” 

 

“I am. I came to invite you to dinner, but I think it’d be best if we took you straight home.” 

 

“I have work to finish-” 

 

“I don’t care.” 

 

“Lord Pritchard will-” 

 

“I’ll tell him that I examined you and you were ill. He’ll understand. Do you need help getting up?” 

 

I rolled my eyes, “My head hurts, not my legs.” But when I stood, I was overtaken with a sense of dizziness, and did require their help, although only for a moment. 

 

“Wot was that ‘bout yer legs?” Lestrade asked. 

 

“Let’s just get him to the carriage, Gina.” The force at which these medium-to-small sized girls man-handled me (for lack of a better term) through the building was impressive. I insisted I didn’t need help, yet they insisted that I did. 

 

I supposed I should’ve expected it of Lestrade, having grown up as a pickpocket on the streets. But Dr. Gorey matched her strength just as well. I found myself idly wondering if it took a great deal of strength to cut up corpses. 

 

The carriage ride was miserable. It tripled the nauseous feeling, though luckily, I hadn’t eaten anything to hurl up. When we at last arrived back, I realized they’d insist on walking me to my dingy apartment. (Or, more embarrassingly, that I’d actually need them to.)

 

Kaya was waiting by the door to be let inside, and I internally groaned at the explanation I’d have to give. “There a reason there’s a cat at yer door?” Lestrade asked. 

 

“Yes, she stays with me.” 

 

“You didn’t strike me as a cat person.” Dr. Gorey remarked as Lestrade unlocked the door. I didn’t even have the capacity to be concerned about how easily she’d gotten them off of me without me realizing.

 

The ladies helped me to my small bedroom, never once commenting on the state of the place, which made me feel a little better. “Does yer cat need food?” Lestrade asked as I trudged through the drawing room to my bedroom. 

 

“No, she doesn’t eat.” I couldn't stop myself from spouting off, “I have some bread in the cabinet…” I shut my eyes, and after debating it for a moment, decided I didn’t have the energy to remove any clothes. I just fell backwards on the bed. I heard her bumping around the kitchen and speaking to Kaya, and didn’t realize I still had company until I felt my boot being pulled off. I jerked my head up, causing a wave of dizziness, “What-” 

 

“Since I work with corpses, I’ve gotten fairly efficient at removing clothing.” Dr. Gorey said matter-of-factly, “I’m sure you don’t want help with everything else, but I figured I could help with your shoes.” 

 

I let my head fall back onto the mattress and shut my eyes again. Hopefully this will all be over soon… 

 

I faintly remember hearing them ask if I needed anything else, but I’m not sure if I even answered. I don’t believe I heard them leave. 

 

The next morning, thankfully, the pressure in my head was gone, replaced by a pressure on my chest. Kaya was lying on me, something she’d never done. The closest she’d gotten was the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here, Kaya..? Could you tell I was sick?” 

 

She stood up and sniffed my face, then purred and loafed right in the center of my chest. I chuckled and pet her, for some reason tearing up. She cared about me much like a mother would. And I had friends who helped me here; even removed my boots. Did I ever even thank them..? 

 

The evening had become such a blur, I couldn’t recall. 

~~~~~

Not two days after that, Lord Pritchard burst into the office in the mid-afternoon holding up a newspaper. He plopped it down on my desk with force.

 

Klint van Zieks a Secret Murderer?! The ‘Reaper’ Reveals All!

 

“No…” I said in pure disbelief, reading further to see that Lord van Zieks was, in fact, quoted himself in the publication. 

 

“Indeed. And while it may be the noble thing to do, it puts the prosecutor’s office in an incredibly delicate position! He should’ve at least warned me.” He grumbled, then suddenly a grim thought seemed to hit him as his eyes widened and his face slightly paled, “I should probably go check on him. Are you going to insist on coming?” 

 

The thought hit me then, and it was dizzying. That’s why he didn’t come back to work; he never planned to. He’d say goodbye to his best friend and his loyal servant, publicize the truth, and remove himself from the consequences of those actions. 

 

I did insist on going. 

 

The first surprise was when we were greeted by the gate being locked, and three guards standing outside of it. Lord Pritchard held out his badge, “I am the Lord Chief Justice, I need to speak to Lord van Zieks about work.” 

 

The guard nearest the carriage looked over at me, “Who is that?” 

 

“His apprentice.” 

 

He turned to consult the other guards, then nodded. We closed the carriage door as they opened the gates. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” I asked after a brief hesitation. 

 

He shrugged, “He could be trying to protect his servants. There’s only one way to know.” 

 

After having to explain our position again to the guards outside, the door was opened by Ms. Simms and one guard. “Oh, Lord Pritchard.” She sighed in relief, “Neither of them are any danger.” She announced to their guards, then waved us inside. “We’re trying not to leave the doors or windows open for too long, you understand.” 

 

“Of course…” We were led to the sitting room, where we were encouraged to sit.

 

“I can ask Lord Barok if he’ll see you, but I can’t guarantee he’ll feel up to it.” She admitted. 

 

“Is he alright?” Lord Pritchard finally asked. 

 

She rubbed her head with a gloved hand, “That’s a hard question to answer.” She mumbled, then straightened again, “As alright as someone in his situation could possibly be, I suppose.”

 

“You’ve seen him recently? ” I pressed, before wondering with a twinge of embarrassment if I’d just interrupted the Chief Justice. I was too anxious to glance over to read his expression, so I kept my eyes locked on her. 

 

“Just this morning, yes. The guards arrived, so he had to give them their orders, along with some suggestions for myself and my helpers. Oh, and then he left to speak to the press, of course.” 

 

“What time did you last see him?” 

 

“He came home around 9:30, I believe. Why are you asking?” 

 

We both shared a troubled glance, “I am merely concerned about his… safety .” 

 

“There are plenty of guards to thwart attacks.” She commented, clearly missing the underlying message. 

 

It seemed Lord Pritchard wasn’t comfortable saying it, so I stepped in, “We’re worried he’s going to attempt suicide, if he hasn’t already.” 

 

She dropped her amicable expression to a more grim one, though not a surprised one. “I have locked away all of his weapons in the cellar, and he cannot access the key. I’ve also made sure he has no alcohol around. The only thing I couldn’t control is his windows; I suppose he could jump out of them, but the guards would’ve found him if he did. And trust me, I check up on him often. I haven’t seen any signs that he has that urge.” 

 

I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to be relieved that she was taking such precautions, or worried that she felt she had to go to such extremes. She sensed our unease, and added, “I will go check up on him right now.” 

 

She was gone only a few minutes, and returned with no surprise on her face, “He is fine. And he will continue to be fine. You needn’t worry.” 

 

So, with nothing but her assurances to go by, we left. 

Chapter 2: Herlock

Notes:

For the first 5 chapters, the point of view will alternate, but the timeline will be the same. Every character experiences something different upon the time of Ryunosuke’s departure, so I felt it was important to give them each one chapter during the same period of time to delve into it. After the initial 5 chapters, the story will continue to progress in a normal, chronological manner by chapter, still alternating points of view to characters not in any particular pattern, but just as needed.

Content warning for mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, mentions of past drug use

Iris’s smile was completely and utterly forced. It was so obvious to my trained eye, it was as if her sorrow was jumping out of her face. As soon as our wonderful Japanese friends were out of our line of sight, her eyes became misty, and her smile wobbly. 

 

“Well… I suppose we should make our way to the train station. Would you like to accompany us, Mr. Asogi?”

 

The poor boy’s eyes were distant, as well, and his reaction was slow. “No, I’ll… I’ll stay behind a while longer.” 

 

Judging by Iris’s silence, she was barely holding herself together, and getting a public train ticket would be foolish. So I put in for a private car, and within half an hour, we were climbing in together. 

 

I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. I’d worried she would fall apart the moment we entered the room, yet here she was, still trying to keep a straight face for me. 

 

“Iris…” I began carefully. She wouldn't meet my eyes, I noticed. “It’s alright if you’re upset.” 

 

“But…” Those poor little eyes welled up with tears, “But you must be upset, too.” 

 

In all honesty, I could hardly even process my own loss, too concerned about hers . “I am.” I admitted quietly, “But… you are my priority. I can deal with my own feelings on my own time.” 

 

She sniffled once, twice, then looked up at me as tears began to well over. I opened my arms, and she moved across the car to tackle me with a considerable amount of strength. 

 

It always broke my heart to hear my strong little girl cry. I was so thankful that she was in my arms, or else she would’ve seen my own tears I fought so desperately to keep behind. 

 

I had myself together much earlier than she did, so by the time she began to speak, I felt confident enough in my voice to respond. “They’ll come back, right..?” 

 

“I’m sure they will.” I lied. If Yujin was willing to leave me so quickly, the likelihood of seeing any of them here again was low. It seemed more likely that Mr. Asogi would return to Japan. 

 

But by God, I’d buy Iris and I tickets to Japan if it meant making her happy. 

 

“They love you, Iris.” I reassured her, rubbing circles in her hair, “And no amount of distance can change that.” 

 

She nodded weakly, although she still didn’t seem completely convinced. After another moment, she finally broke the hug to wipe her poor little face. I couldn’t help myself, I took out my handkerchief and cleaned it for her, doing my damndest to fight my own. 

 

“It’s gonna be awfully quiet at home now, isn’t it?” She asked with a forced smile, and while I knew it was forced, I could tell she wanted to move on, so I played along.

 

“I suppose it will be…” I postulated, “Although, I believe we should pursue Mr. Asogi. He’ll be lonely now that everyone’s left. It seems like the perfect time to make friends.” 

 

“He didn’t seem enthusiastic about it…” 

 

“He may have just needed some time. Much like we do, right now, yes?” She nodded, “And perhaps Mr. van Zieks, as well. You did make him that birthday present, after all.” 

 

“I did, yes…” 

 

“Maybe we could invite Gina over tonight. And what about that coroner lady, what was her name..?” 

 

“Hurley.” She interrupted, her smile dropping, “ Daddy. ” That little correction brought tears to my eyes that I couldn’t fight. “I think I want to be alone tonight. Just us.” 

 

I nodded, “Of course.” 

 

To my surprise, she laughed with misty eyes, “You really like when I call you that, huh?” 

 

“You’ve always been my daughter, Iris. I’m just… relieved that you agree.” 

~~~~~

The first few days were difficult to say the least. I would find Iris stress cooking, stress writing, or on very bad days, doing absolutely nothing. I did my best to help her where I could; I created opportunities to leave the house, do something exciting. I took up my old hobby of going to the orchestra (and occasionally, the theatre), just to give her something to do. And thankfully, she quite enjoyed the whole process, from getting dressed up to go out, to trying new restaurants afterwards.

 

One evening, I stepped out onto the balcony to smoke while Iris made supper and spotted none other than Gina Lestrade, her furry companion Toby, and Dr. Maria Gorey across the way. At first I wondered if it was mere coincidence, but they were very clearly looking the direction of our door, speaking amongst themselves as if they were afraid to come in. 

 

Oh, fine.

 

I went inside and stomped my way down the stairs, shouting to Iris, “We’re about to have company!”

 

“A client at last?” She asked with uncharacteristic disinterest.

 

After I left our flat’s door and made it to the front door, I swung it open, finding the girls in the same spot they were in moments ago. “What are you doing just standing out there in the cold? Come in!” 

 

They were mildly surprised, but heeded my invitation, Gina mumbling, “Only if it ain’t no trouble…” 

 

“It is no trouble whatsoever, my dear madam. Do come in, make yourselves comfortable.” I led them up the stairs to the door to our flat, then informed Iris of our new company.

 

She came scrambling out of that kitchen, and practically tackled Gina in a hug. “Ginny!!! It’s so good to see you!” 

 

“Uh-yeah, yeah you too.” She said only a little awkwardly, though Iris didn’t notice, or perhaps just didn’t care. 

 

Once she backed out of the hug, she looked up at Dr. Gorey with a bit of hesitation, “I hope you’re not still mad at me…” 

 

“Oh. how could I be? Gina’s told me lots about you, you’re a very sweet girl, and very smart, too! A fellow Doctor!” 

 

Iris positively beamed and blushed at that, and I couldn’t help but swell with joy at seeing her so happy. “Well, thank you. Dinner’s almost ready; I’ll make sure Hurley can’t have any seconds so everyone can get some!” 

 

She left the room before anyone could say anything, though Dr. Gorey tried to say, “We don’t need anything to eat; it’s okay!” 

 

“One of Iris’s favorite activities is feeding people.” I explained to her as I plopped down in the green armchair, “You’re going to eat.” 

 

“Hurley!!!” Iris called. 

 

I groaned, “I just sat down!” 

 

“Oh, boo-hoo! Come help me with plates, pretty please?”

 

How could I possibly say no at a time like this?

 

Iris and myself brought out plates of food for everyone, and then, once we were seated, conversations began. 

 

“Do you have somewhere to stay, Ginny?” Iris asked, and I briefly wondered if she was wanting her to take the place of Mr. Naruhodo and Ms. Susato in the attic.

 

“Yeah, Ria’s lettin’ me stay wiv her.” She admitted, almost a little bashful about the fact.

 

An interesting duo, those two. Nearly polar opposites in everything but attitudes. “Have you heard news about your status as a detective?” 

 

“Nuffin yet. But I doubt they’ll be nice to me. Didn’t you have to twist some arms to get me in there?” 

 

“If I could do it once, surely I can do it again.” I reassured her, “And even if I couldn’t; you could always work for me. ” 

 

The scrunched face she made in response sent me howling with laughter. “I just liked havin’ a badge, is all!” She clarified with a red face.

 

“No, I understand, I understand.”

 

“What have you both been up to? Any new, exciting cases?” Dr. Gorey asked politely. 

 

“None as of yet.” I grumbled. 

 

“We’ve gone and seen the orchestra, though! It’s really pretty, all those talented people in the same room at the same time, playing the same song, but different parts. It doesn’t sound impressive, but when you’re there, it really is! ” 

 

I know we aren’t blood related, but I so desperately want her to inherit my love for music. 

 

“It truly is. We should all go together sometime!” Dr. Gorey suggested. 

 

“Yes! They said there was one tomorrow; are either of you busy?” 

 

Naturally, they were not, so we all met up the next day to see the orchestra. It seemed Dr. Gorey had either bought, made, or given Gina a dress, a quite charming emerald green. I was surprised she’d even agreed to wear one; the girl seemed entirely averse to the idea of wearing women’s clothing.

 

Thankfully, with the extra company, Iris still had just as much fun, insisting on dinner afterwards, and then a friendly game of cards. 

 

The ladies were very fun company, but after they departed, I couldn’t help but think of the fellows we had yet to hear from. Poor Mr. Asogi, who had just been abandoned by his mentor and adoptive father, adoptive sister, and his partner. And van Zieks, who had just learned of the truth behind The Professor, and his brother’s involvement, assisted suicide, and “orphaned” child, Iris. Quite a lot to throw on one bloke at a time. I should check up on him. 

 

The very next morning, I made the journey to his manor, where I was greeted by a woman. “Oh, Mr. Sholmes.” 

 

“Indeed.” I studied her face for a moment, “I believe I recognize you from the gallery…” 

 

She nodded, “I am Lord Barok’s head servant, Agatha Simms, but I’ve been a family friend for years. So I was allowed to attend.” 

 

“Speaking of the fellow, how is he holding up, do you think?” 

 

“He is holding up.” She responded vaguely, looking behind her, “But I don’t know if he’d want visitors. I’m sure you could understand.” 

 

“Certainly. I was merely concerned about an old friend. But if you see no reason for concern, I will take my leave.” 

 

“Trust me, I’ve been doing everything I can to keep him safe.” 

~~~~~

It was only a few days later, after Gina came bursting through our doors with the good news that she’d been re-hired as Jr. Inspector, that I thought to simply swing by the prosecutor’s office, even just to see if it was in working condition again. I tried to stop by van Zieks’s office, but the reception wouldn’t even allow me past the lobby, and I didn’t feel like scaling a government building that day, so I just wrote them both a letter and let them know they were welcome in our home at any time. 

 

Several days passed where Iris got herself back into writing, I took up a few mundane cases, Gina dropped by, and yet, we heard nothing from them. Not even a written response, though I saw Mr. Asogi briefly at a crime scene, and he seemed in well enough spirits and health.

~~~~

“Daddy!!!” Iris’s yell tore me from my sleep, far too loud and shrill to be her normal morning wake up call. She burst into my room and threw my curtains open with no regard for my poor, unfocused eyes. 

 

At my cries, she only jumped up on the bed, “Daddy, look!!!” She thrust an envelope onto my face. 

 

With a slight groan I peeled it off, my blurred eyes at first struggling to read the writing, until I realized I didn’t need to read it to recognize it; that’s Yujin’s handwriting if I’ve ever seen it! 

 

“Runo and Susie sent one, too!” She bounced on her knees with two other envelopes in her hands.

 

I pushed myself up with a newfound energy I hadn’t felt in some time (since their departure, really.) “Let’s read yours first.” 

 

The first one, she unfolded and read, 

Good afternoon! How’s everyone doing at Baker Street? 

 

We’ve arrived in Japan safely, if you discount Mr. Naruhodo’s new tendency to develop seasickness. At present, he’s cramming to get his degree to practice Japanese law, and I am fighting to become a proper Judicial assistant. The only problem is that Japan does not look as kindly upon women as London did. 

 

In truth, we’ve only been back in Japan for a week, so not much has happened to write about. But regardless, we still wanted to write to you. 

 

Also, one of those envelopes is just for Mr. Sholmes, and the other is for Kazuma-sama. We weren’t sure where to send it, so we thought we’d send it to you. 

 

Mr. Naruhodo, Father and I all send our absolute best wishes to you. We all miss you dearly. 

 

Love, Your Family from Afar 

 

Iris’s eyes were welling up with tears, but a bright smile was on her face, “Isn’t that so sweet?” 

 

“It certainly is.” 

 

“Read yours!” She commanded. 

 

“I believe it’s best if I read mine in private.” I said carefully. “I’m afraid it may be meant just for me.” 

 

“I suppose so.” She jumped off the bed, “I’m gonna go start writing my response right now! ”

 

She ran out of the room without even closing the door, leaving me alone with a letter that I’d been waiting for.

 

I took a deep breath, then carefully opened it. 

Dear Herlock,

 

I feel I must apologize for my abrupt departure. I’m sure it pained you just as much as it pained me, but I feared the Japanese legal system would be in shambles with Jigoku convicted of such atrocities, and I’m afraid to admit I was correct. 

 

Young Naruhodo is up to his ears in work already, and he’s still a student. The government is pushing for him to graduate by next week so he can help the dozens of government officials who seek his advice. He’s become quite famous, if you can believe it. 

 

Herlock, I must be honest with you, I already miss you dearly. You’ve grown so much since I last saw you, in every way imaginable, and only for the better. I was very pleased to see for myself that cocaine was entirely off the table. I couldn’t be more proud of you for that. 

 

I do hope we can see each other again soon. 

 

Kindest Regards, Yujin Mikotoba 

 

I must admit, it took me several moments to regain my composure on reading that letter. All my doubts were gone, replaced only by a bottomless pit in my heart. But… I’d wait another decade for him, if I had to. No one else would provide for me what he did. 

 

Once Iris went to bed that evening, I set about writing my letter. 

Dearest Partner, Yujin,

 

Your words are some of the most touching I have read in a very long time. And I must say, I’m happy to see how much you yourself have grown; you’ve even gotten a bit of a belly! Seeing you happy and healthy has filled me with immeasurable relief and comfort. 

 

Iris and I have been a bit lonely by ourselves. We’ve reached out to Mr. Asogi and Mr. van Zieks, but have been swiftly ignored. It seems they’re working themselves to the bone, too, with all this political and judicial instability. 

 

I’m happy you’re doing well (at least, as far as I can tell.) I also hope we can see each other soon, and I’m sure we will. We’ve always found a way, haven’t we?

 

Do let me know how you’re doing once this reaches you, and give me more details! I have no idea if you’re working in labs exclusively, or still doing lectures at the university! Don’t keep these things from me, or I’ll telegram the university and ask. 

 

Love, Herlock Sholmes 

~~~

The very next day, around lunch, we took an excursion to van Zieks’s office, Iris carrying a basket of goodies, and myself carrying the letter for Mr. Asogi. 

 

Of course, I didn’t bother to knock on the office door before I flung it open. I made sure to catch van Zieks’s reaction, which went from surprise to irritation in a matter of split-seconds. 

 

“Goodness, it’s quiet in here!” Iris complained, “And dark! You should turn on some lights.” 

 

A mischievous smirk appeared on Asogi’s face as van Zieks pinched the bridge of his nose, “Is there anything in particular you want..?” 

 

Iris froze for a second, clearly believing his irritation was directed at her, so I stepped in, “Well, our dear friends from Japan have sent Mr. Asogi a letter, but sent it through us.”

 

Iris recovered quickly with a nod and a bounce on her heels, “And since we already had to come by, I thought we might as well bring lunch!”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer horror on van Zieks’s face at the prospect of sharing lunch with a little girl. “I assure you, Iris is a fantastic cook.”

 

“I didn’t really even cook for this; it’s just sandwiches and tea.” She argued, sitting the basket down on the round table, then looked around at the frozen men. My eyes then caught the empty wall where Klint van Zieks’s portrait used to hang. So he took it down. Interesting. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve already eaten. It’s not even 12!”

 

Van Zieks looked down at his paper, then back up at us. With a heavy sigh, he put away his quill and rose, “Thank you, Ms. Wilson. You are too kind.” 

 

If he wasn’t trying so hard to be genuine, I would’ve laughed. Instead, I focused my energy on Asogi, who actually turned back to his work. 

 

“What do you think you’re doing, young man?” I asked as I tossed the letter down for him. 

 

“Finishing work.” 

 

“Not without eating lunch, you aren’t.” I smacked him on the shoulder and cringed as he tensed. I should keep that neck injury in mind . 

 

“Come along, my dear fellow, there are plenty of sandwiches to go around!”

 

I must say, it was one of the most awkward luncheons I had ever participated in, and considering my track record, that’s quite impressive. 

 

Asogi was stubbornly refusing seconds and eating slowly, whereas van Zieks was trying to taste everything she had made so he could compliment her on it. At least he was trying to make an effort, even if it was forced upon him. 

 

Iris was in good spirits as we left, so I took that as a success. 

~~~~~~~

I was in the middle of some miscellaneous work when I saw the afternoon edition. 

 

Klint van Zieks a Secret Murderer?! The ‘Reaper’ Reveals All!

 

As soon as it caught my eye, I took off to his residence, alarmed by the amount of attention near it. At first, I just knew it was the police and that they were investigating his death, but I soon realized they were private guards, at the closed, locked gate to the entrance to his manor. My carriage driver hesitated, but at last pulled up, and I opened the door, and sprung out. The fellows reached for their weapons, but I gave it no mind. 

 

“Good afternoon, fellows! I am a dear, dear friend to dear van Zieks; Herlock Sholmes, I’m sure you’ve heard of me?” 

 

They shook their heads, and the one in the middle spoke, “You are not on his list of allowed entries.” 

 

“Well, I haven’t spoken to him in a while, is all!” I argued, “I swear, I mean him no harm whatsoever.” 

 

“May I ask why you’re carrying a gun, then?”

To be honest, I’d completely forgotten about it. I took it off of my belt and held it out, the officers immediately re-aiming their weapons at me, “Here, you can have it until I have finished my conversation with my dear, dear friend.” 

 

They all glanced among each other, and then the one in the middle motioned up to the driver, “This is a public carriage service, yes?” The driver nodded. “I will go ask permission. You will stay in the carriage, within sight.” 

 

“A fair compromise.” I conceded, handed in my weapon, and went ahead and paid the driver before I got in, “Oh, and tell him I’m not going anywhere until he speaks to me.” 

 

It was probably a solid 20 minutes before he returned, and wearily gave the signal to open the doors. The driver took me through, and then I was led through the guards at the front door, front entranceway, and at last, the sitting room, where the man himself sat. 

 

He looked terrible. I could tell, from the awkward way his clothing folded and twisted, that he’d just thrown them on to speak to me. His eyes indicated he hadn’t slept in at least 24 hours, though I suspected much longer. His hair had clearly been combed carelessly, and looked a little greasy, as well. He sighed, “I was wondering if it was actually you, or some imposter.” He rose and motioned for me to follow him, adding to his guards, “I know this man, he is safe. Please allow us privacy.” 

 

He led me up an impressive stairwell to his personal study, where he half-mumbled to pull up a chair, and collapsed into the desk chair. “What do you want, Sholmes?” 

 

I ignored his request about the chair, instead taking a look around at what kind of books the man filled his room with. Lots of law books, several forensics and sciences books, a few medical books, some strange trinkets, and a few empty photograph frames where I have a feeling some photographs of his most recently deceased relatives were previously kept. 

 

“I wanted to check up on my daughter’s Uncle, of course.” I said casually. 

 

“I assume you’re not happy about the publication?” 

 

I shrugged, “The truth is important. I understand that. But the truth to Iris could only cause her harm. And there’s no point in that while she’s still a child, don’t you say?” 

 

“I’d prefer if she never knew.” He mumbled, and when I looked back at him, he’d slumped even further in his chair. 

 

“So would I, but I don’t believe that’s realistic.” I added, finally pulling up a chair once I was satisfied with my perusal, “How suicidal are you feeling today?” 

 

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, his voice lacking the ice that I’m sure he wanted it to contain. 

 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I was suicidal after the death of my brother, and I couldn’t stand the bastard.” 

 

He clearly wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take me seriously or not, so after a moment of the cogs turning behind his eyes, he closed them and massaged his forehead, “The affairs of my mental state are none of your concern.” 

 

“I won’t allow Iris’s sole remaining blood relative to die.” 

 

“I thought you didn’t want her to know.” He retorted. 

 

“Not anytime soon. But you are related, and you should see her. Do you have any interest in being in Iris’s life?” 

 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I only cause pain to those I am close to.” 

 

“I think your head servant would disagree. As would Mr… what was his name? The scientist with the hair.” 

 

“Albert Harebrayne.” He stated dryly. 

 

“That’s the one!” I clapped my hands together, “They would likely disagree with that sentiment.”

 

He shook his head slightly and sighed, “I don’t know what to tell you, Sholmes. I don’t want to drag down the life of an innocent child, or put her at risk for targeted attacks.” 

 

“So you plan to isolate yourself for the rest of eternity?” 

 

“What if I do?” He finally looked me square in the eyes, a burning self-hatred coming off of him in waves. 

 

“That would be a very foolish decision to make.” I answered with equal confidence, “Why deny yourself happiness?”

“I am not capable of happiness.” 

 

“That is far from the truth, and both you and I know it. In university you were the most giddy boy I’ve ever seen-” 

 

“That was over 10 years ago, Sholmes. Some people change.” 

 

It was clearly meant to be some sort of instigative statement, but I took no offense. “For the worse?” 

 

He clenched his jaw, but said nothing, “Iris has been quite worried about you. And she’s been very lonely; you’re aware Mr. Naruhodo and Ms. Susato lived in our attic. They were dear friends of ours, and to a 10 year old, them going across the world is the same as a death sentence. She needs company right now. And now you are aware that you are her uncle.” 

 

“Do you really think I would be good company for a child? ” He asked. 

 

“Iris likes challenging company.” I countered, “The harder it is to break their shell, the more fun she has.” 

 

He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the chair, “I have no choice in the matter, in other words.” 

 

“You are a grown man. You can refuse her. Just know you’ll be adding a stone to the pile of reasons Iris Wilson has to be sad and lonely and-” 

 

“Fine.” He snapped, looking down, “Once things blow over, I will come to Baker Street for tea.” 

 

I smiled, “Excellent. And you’re sure you’re alright?” 

 

“I am fine. ” 

 

“Ooh, most fine people don’t respond that way.” I cringed, “But you have people looking out for you. And I notice you aren’t carrying any weapons… I wonder if that’s for a reason.” 

 

To that, he properly glared at me. “If you’re going to belittle me, I am going to have to ask you to leave now .” 

 

“Oh, no, that’s not my intention. I am merely making observations. But that being said, I believe it’s time I left of my own accord.” 

Chapter 3: Barok

Summary:

Barok copes with the newfound secret identity of his brother, along with entertaining his old friend from University.

Notes:

For the first 5 chapters, the point of view will alternate, but the timeline will be the same. Every character experiences something different upon the time of Ryunosuke’s departure, so I felt it was important to give them each one chapter during the same period of time to delve into it. After the initial 5 chapters, the story will continue to progress in a normal, chronological manner by chapter, still alternating points of view to characters not in any particular pattern, but just as needed.

Content Warning for brief descriptions of alcoholism, references to suicide and implied internalized homophobia if that bothers you

Once the formal paperwork had been completed and I was released from police custody, who other than Ms. Simms would be waiting for me? 

 

For whatever reason, I’d nearly forgotten she was even at the trial. She came up to me, tears in her eyes, and pulled me into a hug before I could even object. I couldn’t find the energy (or care) to push her away. 

 

“Lord Barok… I’m so sorry.” Was the first thing she said. 

 

I didn’t know how to respond, nor if I was even capable of trying. She pulled away, sighing as she took me in, “You look exhausted. Let’s go home.” 

 

I’m not sure if I uttered a word to her all day. 

 

I went home, I took a bottle of wine from my study and drank it in the bath, then… I believe I just crashed in bed and did not move for the rest of the night. 

 

No, Asogi came by, needing somewhere to stay. Part of me wondered if he knew I was drunk when I let him in. If he did, he’d best not mention it. 

 

Most of the next portion was only bits of memories that were filled in for me by Ms. Simms. 

 

The next day I drank in my study, and took out all the photographs of Klint. I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. I shoved them into a box and told Ms. Simms to store them somewhere I couldn’t get to them. As much as they hurt me, I still wouldn’t want to destroy them in a rage. 

 

It was on day 3 that I ran out of wine in all of my rooms, and went to the cellar only to find that my keys were replaced with a note. 

 

As per our updated contract, I have noticed a problem, and have taken away the key to the cellar. Do not try to break in. This is what is best for you. 

 

I stormed into the kitchen, absolutely and irrationally angry, to confront Ms. Simms.

 

“You’re drunk even now .” She argued after a fit of my nonsensical rambling, “You are not fit to drink any more.” 

 

“I’m not drunk!” I lied, then added, “You know that I have a glass every night before bed to help me calm down-“ 

 

“I will bring it to you. I will bring one glass. That is all you will get.” 

 

“You cannot understand the pain I am going through-“ 

 

“I know it’s not the same, but your family took me in when I was 16. I went to Klint’s wedding. I went to your graduation, and I went to every funeral. And I mourned at every funeral. So I feel like I’m one of the only people who can somewhat understand the betrayal you must feel. And it’s going to drive you to drink, just as Klint did the first time, upon his death. And this time, it might end in something worse than that x across your face.” 

 

I was so angry that I was damn near in tears. But I knew that there was nothing I could say in response on my side, so I simply stormed outside, and found my feet leading me to Klint’s gravesite. 

 

I’d rather not recount the partially-drunken yelling (and probably crying) that took place there for far too long. All I know is, eventually, Ms. Simms intervened and got me calm enough to go back into the house. 

 

It was only the next day, while recovering from a nasty hangover, that Ms. Simms informed me of a visitor. Lord Thom Pritchard, a man my parents were dear friends with many years ago.

 

I did my best to make myself presentable, then headed downstairs to accept his company. 

 

He looked different than I remembered him; smaller, older, but not necessarily in negative connotations. He smiled, “A pleasure to see you after so many years, Barok.” 

 

I must look a fright. “Yes…” I tried to think of something else, but the headache was too much to think through. 

 

“Are you doing well?” 

 

What a loaded question. “As well as I can be.” I lied. I could probably be handling this better, as a grown man. 

 

“That’s all you can ask for.” He conceded, “I wanted to let you know, I am being considered for Chief Justice.” 

 

“Oh. Congratulations.” 

 

“Oh, I didn’t come to be congratulated; but thank you. I meant that, were I to be elected, your position would not be in jeopardy.” 

 

“Is this because of my parents, or your actual opinion?” I blurted out, regret stirring in my chest as soon as it left my mouth. 

 

“I assure you, it is your integrity as an attorney alone that made me reach that decision.” 

 

“Well… thank you.” 

 

“Of course. I hope to see you soon. And if you need anything, here.” He handed me a card with his address written on it, then left without another word.

~~~~

Sure enough, he was appointed, Mr. Asogi was allowed to continue his apprenticeship under me, and I was given a distraction from my thoughts. An escape. 

 

The first thing I did upon entering my office was take down the portrait of Klint. It didn’t deserve to hang in this place of justice anymore. I ordered movers to take it to my manor, where I told Ms. Simms to put it in his bedroom. Where I wouldn’t have to see it. 

 

I stayed absorbed in my work when I could, but not long after I’d been allowed back in the prosecutor’s office, I received a letter from Albert. 

 

Dear Barok, 

 

I read what happened! My goodness, are you alright? I know you were acquitted, but gosh, your entire government was practically overthrown! Will you get your job back? 

 

And now that the whole reaper business is dealt with, I’d love to come back to see you and discuss this in person.

 

Do let me know 

 

-Albert Harebrayne. 

 

So, I had to do my best to conjure up thoughts in my surprisingly empty mind. 

Dearest Albert,

 

I am fine. I have my position back.

 

If it is your wish to come back, you may. I can house you, if you like, but I am up to my neck in paperwork at the moment. I cannot guarantee that will change by the time you arrive, but I will try to set aside at least some time for you. 

 

At the very least, you deserve to know the truth that the papers do not know. 

 

Send me a telegram if you decide to come. 

 

I got a telegram; he’d be here in a week’s time. My heart felt strangely light at the thought. 

 

But that was a whole week away. 

 

I dedicated myself to my work, almost intoxicated by how effectively it kept my negative thoughts at bay. If I can’t use alcohol, I suppose I’ll use work as a distraction. 

 

It wasn’t exactly the most wise thing to do, and I knew that, but I found it difficult to pull myself away. To the point where I spent a night here or there at the office, and eventually, two. I hadn’t really consciously realized it. 

 

I didn’t even know I’d fallen asleep until I felt myself shaking, and in an instant I was upright, with my pistol in my hand, pointed at… Lord Pritchard. 

 

Regret and embarrassment washed over me harder than it ever had before, and I quickly put the pistol down, “My sincerest apologies, sir.” I found myself bowing my head much like Asogi, simply because I didn’t know if I could bear to look at him. 

 

Especially when he was silent. “Go home.” 

 

That earned him my visual attention, “I assure you, My Lord, I did not mean to-“ 

 

“You are a cautious man. The fact that you were face down in your papers and did not hear me enter, nor call your name, is highly disturbing to me.” 

 

God, maybe I have been in the office too long. “It was a momentary weakness-“ 

 

“It’s a self-inflicted weakness, I am certain. If I asked security if they’ve seen you leave this building in the past 48 hours, I am sure the answer would be no. Do you contest this?” 

 

I couldn’t respond. I simply looked down. I heard him sigh heavily and fall into silence, clearly thinking about something, though my brain was far too sluggish to try to predict his train of thought. 

 

“You will go home right now, and you will stay there for at least 1 week.” 

 

“1 week?! ” I couldn’t even find it in me to be embarrassed by my outburst, “There is quite a lot of work to be done. The prosecutor’s office needs me-“ 

 

“I and Mr. Asogi will divide your work when he comes in.” He asserted, “Now, no more excuses. I’m not going to watch you work yourself to death.” 

 

“With all due respect, My Lord, I’m not-“ I shut my eyes as my voice seemed to just stop, and took a deep breath, trying to put my thoughts into words that weren’t too pathetic. “Work keeps my mind off of things.” 

 

“If you keep running from those things, they’ll never leave you. You need time to process this-“

 

“How could you know what I need?!” 

 

To my surprise, his expression softened. “Because I am a person who is capable of empathy. You are at the end of your rope, Barok, and as your father’s friend, it is my responsibility to prevent you from reaching an early death.” 

 

“What if sending me home ensures it?” 

 

“If you continue to make threats like that, I’ll have you committed to an asylum to ensure your safety. But I don’t believe you mean it. I believe you’re just desperate.” 

 

He was plucking my deepest thoughts from my mind and laying them bare for the world to see. And truthfully, had I been in my right mind, I knew I wouldn’t have said the things that I did. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment and anger for the first time in years. “ Please don’t fight me. You have people at home who can help ensure your safety. And if you ever feel unstable, you know where I live, and you are welcome anytime.” 

 

I was sent home without another moment’s delay. 

 

Thankfully, Albert arrived the next day, so I was able to meet him at the docks. Part of me was (albeit irrationally) afraid that some Reaper copycat would try to take his life in revenge. Or mine, though I didn’t value it as much. 

 

Still, I breathed a sigh of relief when I caught a glimpse of his cloud of blond hair in the crowd. “Barok!” He called as I walked to greet him, “I didn’t expect you to meet me!”

“Yes, I, um… I decided to take a vacation from work, after all.” 

 

To my surprise, his face flushed, “You didn’t have to do that for me- ” 

 

“I assure you, I needed the break anyhow.” I knew it was true, but it was difficult to admit. I grabbed his luggage for him, “Shall we?” 

 

So, we boarded the train, and before he could control the conversation, I asked how he was faring since I last saw him. 

 

“Well… it hasn’t been the easiest, with my reputation in shambles. One of my old professors contacted me and asked if I’d like to work as his assistant while I tried to find my next big project.” He admitted shyly. 

 

“Does it pay enough?” 

 

“I suppose so.” He shrugged, “Luckily, he doesn’t really need me until a few months from now. I’ve really just been doing busywork to justify being paid.” 

 

“You are a bright man, Albert. I’m sure the world will recognize your genius soon.” 

 

Once again, he turned bright red, “Hopefully.” He looked down, and in the moment that I couldn’t think of anything to say, he asked the question I wasn’t equipped to answer, “How are you faring after everything that happened?” 

 

“I am… good enough.” I said with the confidence of a child lying to their parents for the first time, “I have many things I need to tell you, but… now is not the time.” 

 

“Of course, of course. Whenever you’d like.” 

 

Silence fell over the train car. “Where will you be staying?” I finally managed to ask. 

 

“Oh, the Waterloo Hotel. I’ve already booked there.” 

 

They must be paying him very well. 

 

Once we reached his hotel, it was near supper time, so we went ahead and had dinner together, with maybe a drink or two, but nothing out of control. It started to feel similarly to how we used to interact; things started feeling more natural. 

 

When I watched him close the door to his room, I noticed my heart was trying to flutter out of my chest. I’m sure it’s the drink. 

~~~~

It turned out, he was not being paid very well, because I received an urgent telegram from Albert the next morning that just said, “Help at hotel.” 

 

I rushed over with my heart in my throat, my mind coming up with every single horrible situation I could think of until I saw him in the lobby. “Thank goodness you’re here!” He exclaimed as I was in the middle of sighing with relief, “I-I’m so sorry, but they charged much more than I thought they were going to, and I don’t have enough to pay.” 

 

After all that worrying. 

 

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, I swear-” 

 

“I don’t care about that.” I cut him off quickly, still trying to release the tension from my chest, “When you say help, it puts situations more dire than being short on money to mind.” 

 

Realization struck him with widening eyes and a gasp, “I’m so sorry! God, I can’t seem to do anything right, can I?” He chuckled with a nervous smile. 

 

“You are fine, Albert.” I paid the bill, then returned to him in the lobby, “It might put my heart at ease if you were to simply stay with me during your time in London. If that is… agreeable. ” 

 

“You don’t have to do that, I can take care of myself-” 

 

“I know I don’t have to, but I would like to. So what do you say?” 

 

I was immensely grateful he agreed. 

 

Since we still had his luggage, we figured the best course of action would be to take it to my manor, get him settled in, perhaps eat lunch, and then plan for the rest of the day. 

 

Of course, I could not simply walk him to a bedroom. As soon as we stepped through the front door, he commented on how similar everything looked to when he was last here, admiring the small details of the hall, then the sitting room, then getting interrupted by Ms. Simms, whom he also hadn’t seen in ten years. 

 

It took a while before the conversation came to a close, only because Ms. Simms mentioned that it was around lunch time and asked if we wanted something. So, she went to cook, and we went towards the stairwell. Only, once again, Albert pivoted to the archway that led into the music room. 

 

“Do you still play, Barok?” He asked as he lifted up the cover over the keys of the grand piano. 

 

“I haven’t touched it in years.” I admitted, praying he wouldn’t ask me to.

 

He hit a note, and I cringed at how out of tune it was. “Someone’s definitely cleaning it, but… it probably needs to be tuned, doesn’t it?” 

 

“I’m sure. If I were to ever use it.” 

 

“Is there any reason you quit?” 

 

I averted my attention, my mind going back to all those music sessions with Klint and his wife, Alina. Without his cello and her harp or voice, anything I could play felt empty. And really, I hadn’t played for myself in years before that . I practiced what I had to, but the only time I ever truly played was when I had fellow performers. Without them, there was not only no point, but it would never feel right again. 

 

“Shouldn’t that be obvious?” 

 

Perhaps it was a little harsh. But after that flood of memories, it was the only thing I could think of. “Oh. Right.” He cringed, “I’m sorry-” 

 

“Let’s just-” My tone still felt angry. I took a deep breath, and tried again, “Let’s just get your things settled.” 

~~~~~

The first day was about as awkward as I could have possibly imagined. I managed to get him to talk about himself for a good long while, and I was more than happy to just listen. Although, once he ran out of things to talk about, he once again brought things around to me. That was when things got very awkward, because I had absolutely nothing of value to catch him up on from the past 10 years that didn’t involve bringing the mood down significantly.

 

“Well, you’ve become one of the biggest prosecutors in London. That must come with some stories?” 

 

“Not particularly.” 

 

“What about that 5 year break you took from the courtroom? What did you do then?” 

 

Oh, good God… “Well, I got divorced.” 

 

He gasped, “Oh Heavens, I completely forgot about that! I’m so sorry for bringing that up, you don’t have to talk about it at all, again, I should’ve thought about-”

 

“It’s not that sensitive of an issue, Albert.” I tried to reassure him, but my tone sounded more like a father scolding a child. Why do I have so little control over my tone these days? “We just jumped into a marriage because of societal pressure, and didn’t love each other like we thought we did.” 

 

“Ah, I see… I can’t blame you for leaving the courtroom after all that. The papers must’ve been brutal.” 

 

“I don’t particularly care about public opinion.” 

 

He sighed, “I wish I could feel the same. But the public opinion directly influences the Scientists’ opinions, and well, obviously, they think I’m a lunatic.” He laughed, his voice uncharacteristically shaky, “I suppose it’s my own fault, though. I followed a foolish dream.” 

 

“It is not foolish to be ambitious.” I blurted out, a sentiment I had never subscribed to before. Mr. Naruhodo struck me as quite foolish the first time I saw him, simply because of how ambitious he was. Although in retrospect, it was that very ambition that made him the extraordinary man that he turned out to be. 

 

“I suppose not, but you have to admit, my ambition blinded me to the truth.” 

 

As much as I hated to put down my dear friend… he was correct. Instantaneous telekinesis was a scientific impossibility, and any scientist that looked at it objectively knew it as such. “You were tricked into believing that it could be true. And if it were true, it would have changed everything we know about practical science. That kind of deceit could have happened to anyone.” 

 

He looked down, “I don’t know. But there’s no point in dwelling on it. I’m here for you, after all.” His face turned bright pink, “Well- and to tour the Great Exhibition, of course!” 

 

“Of course.” What about him saying he was here for me makes my heart pound so quickly? Why should that affect me? 

 

Once we bid each other goodnight with plans to see the Great Exhibition the next day, Ms. Simms came in with my nightly glass of wine, and I dropped my pride to ask if she could bring a second one. 

 

“For Mr. Harebrayne or for you?” 

 

“For him.” 

 

She glared at me, “Why isn’t he here to receive it, then?” Of course, I had nothing to say to that. She stepped in and closed the door behind her, “One of your dearest friends is here to see you. What about that makes you want to drink?” 

 

That strange feeling in my heart whenever I look at him hasn’t gone away, even after 10 years of distance. “It is stressful.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. “I am not used to entertaining.” 

 

Once again, she seemed to size me up with that sharp glare of hers. “I will bring you half of another glass. That is all.” 

 

I was not about to push her. 

~~~~~~~~

The Great Exhibition was possibly even more stressful than the day before. Instead of simply feeling awkward, I was constantly looking over our shoulders, watching for any signs of potential ruffians who were displeased with the work of “The Reaper.” 

 

All while trying to be engaged with whatever exhibition Albert was dragging me to. 

 

Yet for some reason, I struggled to peel my eyes away from Albert as he excitedly rambled on about a new exhibit that inspired him, as he scribbled illegible shorthand notes in his notepad with a burning passion. Just like back in university, something about Albert was just different. Dangerously so. 

 

I was amazed by how long he ran around from exhibit to exhibit with absolutely no visible pain. I tend to believe I am a fairly fit person, I stand in court often all day, and walk crime scenes. There are many office days, but not enough to hinder my physique. But my legs and back were burning simply from walking around for a day. I suppose I have been doing more office days than not recently. 

 

“Are you quite alright?” Albert asked me suddenly, pulling me from whatever thoughts I’d just been having.

“I am fine, yes. What makes you ask?”

“You look… restless. I kept noticing you looking around us all the time, but now you’re just blanking out and staring into space.” 

 

I haven’t been paying attention, have I? 

 

“I apologize, I just-” 

 

“It’s nothing to apologize for! Just- if you won’t say what’s wrong, I can’t help you.” 

 

“You do not need to help me.” 

 

“But I want to.”

He’s starting to sound like Ms. Simms. “I am sore. That is all.” 

 

“Oh, well that’s an easy fix.” He grabbed my arm, much like how women grab men’s arms as they walk, and pulled us through the crowd and to an empty bench before I could even protest. “There we are.” He sighed once we’d both sat down, then admitted, “Now that I’m sitting down, I’m quite sore, too. I didn’t realize it while we were walking around.” He laughed. 

 

It seemed he only realized after a beat of silence that he was still holding my arm, because he quickly and quietly pulled it away, leaving my arm cold and empty. There was a heavy silence before he asked, “Why do you look around so often?” 

 

He’d caught me in the act, and I hadn’t even realized I was doing it until he asked. “I have quite a few enemies. It is not rare for them to attempt to enact bodily harm.” 

 

“You’ve been attacked before?” I nodded, “That’s what the x on your face is from, isn’t it?” I just nodded. It was better than the real story, “I’m so sorry, Barok. That’s terrible.” 

 

“It is a fact of life now.” 

 

“I just can’t imagine it. You were so… aloof back in university.”

 

I shrugged, “I was forced to grow up.” 

 

“And you shouldn’t have been.” I found it impossible to meet his eyes. “Well, I suppose that’s the end of our great exhibition adventure for today. Shall I hail a cab?” 

 

It was clear he was trying to give me a break from walking, but I wasn’t about to let him out of my sight. “We may as well do it together.” 

 

Luckily, his energy had begun to seep out, too, and dinner was pleasantly quiet. We both went up to bed earlier than it is probably normal, but of course, I was unable to sleep. 

 

Those strange feelings I’d had towards Albert back in University were back in full force. At first I’d written it off as excitement or anxiousness about seeing an old friend, but there was nothing friendly about how often I recalled the feeling of his arm on mine, or the glimmer in his eyes as he spoke about something he was passionate about.

 

Once he leaves, I’ll have to cease communication with him again. 

 

From there, the thoughts spiraled back to where they’d been the past several months. After a while, I ended up just getting up and heading down to the sitting room. I lit a log in the fireplace to try to add warmth to this miserable room, put a record on, and positioned myself in an armchair. 

 

It was only a few moments after I got settled that I realized I’d played this very piece with Klint and Alina. Not only that, but the singer wasn’t anywhere near as good as she had been. 

 

For just a moment, I allowed myself to remember them in a positive light. I imagined the three of us in the sitting room (where the piano had been at the time) rehearsing for no one in particular. I recalled the sound of Klint’s cello, Alina’s voice, and the vague feeling of the keys under my fingers. 

 

I wonder if he’d already committed his first murder by that point? 

 

And it was ruined. 

 

Why did he have to do that? Wasn’t he supposed to be a pillar of justice? How did he become corrupted so easily? 

 

I didn’t notice there was moisture in my eyes until I heard a creak in the hall. I quickly rubbed my eyes, hoping it would simply look like irritation from rubbing them instead of puffy tears. It’s probably Ms. Simms coming in for something. 

 

Of course it was not. It was Albert, in his little pale blue nightgown, his blond hair puffing up like a little sheep, “Oh. I’m sorry, I’m probably intruding, aren’t I?”

 

“You are fine.” My voice was much more wobbly than I wanted it to be. I cleared my throat, “Was there something you needed?” 

 

“No, I just-I went to the washroom and I noticed your door was cracked, and then I heard the music.” I shouldn’t have put on that damned record. “Have you been crying?” His bluntness never ceased to catch me off-guard. At my hesitation, he cringed, “I shouldn’t have asked that. I’ll-I’ll leave-” 

 

“No, Albert-” I wasn’t sure why I was calling out to him, but the thought of him leaving twisted my heart even more than it already was. But he was the last person I wanted to see me like this. “You may stay, if you-if you want.” Where have my words gone?

 

He came in and carefully sat down on the sofa. I started to reach over to turn off the gramophone, but he stopped me, “I remember hearing that piece from somewhere… Maybe my professor was playing it in the lab..?”

 

Was he over while we played it? 

 

Now that I was thinking about it, he was. He was over, along with some of the extended family, and Klint had wanted to show off his new cello. Yes, we had played this piece for them, hadn’t we?

 

“You heard it here.” I managed to say.

 

He gasped, “That’s right, you played it!” After his initial excitement, he cringed, “That’s the problem, isn’t it..?” It wasn’t a question that needed to be answered. He knew. But he didn’t know everything. “I’m really sorry, Barok.” 

 

A large knot formed in my throat, one I had to fight against before I could speak, “I suppose now is the best time as any to tell you. If you’re alright with being awake for a while?” 

 

“Yes, yes of course. Whatever it is you want to tell me, I’m right here.” 

 

“Before we do, allow me to make some tea.” 

 

I took the break to try to regain the bits and pieces of my composure that I could pick up off the ground, so by the time I came back, I felt more prepared. I cut off the music and let the tea loosen my throat. 

 

Then, I told him everything. I told him how the trial went. I told him who defended me, who prosecuted me. I told him the truth of the Reaper and the truth of the Professor. 

 

“My God… I would’ve never thought that Klint was capable of such things, even under that pressure.” 

 

“Neither would I.” I answered gravely. 

 

“And… he asked Mr. Asogi to duel? ” 

 

“That’s what the note says.” 

 

He looked at me strangely, “You don’t believe it.” 

 

“I believe he asked Detective Asogi to kill him.” At his surprised look, I added, “They were both excellent swordsmen. Both of them would’ve had multiple wounds, but the only wound on either of them was the one that killed Klint.”

 

“That is logical… What about Lady Alina? Why did she disappear?” 

 

That’s when I had to explain the whole situation with Sholmes’s partner and the birth of my niece. “Wait, that little girl with the pink hair?!” I nodded, “Well-did Mr. Sholmes know about that?!” 

 

“I assume so. Dr…” I realized, with great shame, that I didn’t even remember his name, “his partner told me this after court, so it’s not public information. She does not know.” 

 

“That’s a very difficult situation, isn’t it?” I nodded again. “Well, what do you plan to do? Are you going to fight for custody?”

 

At that, I scoffed, “The child is living a perfectly happy life. There is no point in bringing her down with me. Plus, I would be putting her in danger.” 

 

“I suppose so… but don’t you want to see her?” 

 

“I don’t know. I would be surprised if Sholmes would even allow it.” 

 

“That is a problem. You could always just ask.” At my glare, he laughed, “I see you still don’t like confrontation.” 

 

I felt my face heating up once again, “Only when it’s unnecessary.” 

 

He frowned in thought, almost pouting, “I don’t know if it’s unnecessary or not. He may be expecting you to say something. Surely he knows the Doctor told you?” 

 

“I would guess so. But… why would he wait for me ?” 

 

“Maybe to see if you have any interest? And if you don’t he’ll just… allow you to keep doing what you’ve been doing. I mean, he knows you just learned all of this, yes? Maybe he’s giving you space.” 

 

I scoffed, “I doubt he’s emotionally mature enough to make a decision like that.” 

 

At that, he looked at me strangely, “Do you have some sort of problem with him?” 

 

Do I? He hasn’t really done anything horrible to me. In fact, he was the majority of the reason I was found innocent. If anything, Asogi should irritate me much more. “He is just an irritating man.” I finally said. 

 

“He is quite a handful, as far as I could tell.” He chuckled, “But seriously, you might should say something.” 

 

“I will think on it.” I didn’t like the look Albert was giving me. It was something akin to pity, a look I wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of. “I’m sorry to burden you with all of this tonight.” 

 

“No, no- not at all, Barok! I’m happy to be here for you. Seriously.” A knot started to form in my throat once more. I just nodded in silent thanks. The silence spread throughout the room until it was broken by his yawn, “Gosh, it’s nearly 2 already. We’d probably better at least try to get to bed, shouldn’t we?” 

 

“You’re probably right.” 

 

With that, I extinguished the fire, walked Albert to his room, and bid him goodnight. 

~~~~~~~

The next few days were filled to the brim with activities. Whether it was going to the shops, museums, parks, or London attractions, we hardly had a moment to stop and think. 

 

I only realized on Tuesday morning that I was supposed to be back at work by now, but now it was too late, especially considering that Albert was leaving Wednesday. Besides, Lord Pritchard said at least one week. I won’t be in trouble. 

 

We spent the day out and about in London again, only returning early enough for dinner with Ms. Simms. We had to wake early the next morning to take Albert to the docks, something we were both clearly dreading. 

 

After dinner we retreated to the sitting room, where Albert quietly asked, “When do you think I’ll be able to see you again..?” 

 

“So long as you are given permission to leave work, you may come whenever you wish.” You should be pushing him away, you fool. 

 

He looked down and sighed, “It’s just… this has been the most fun I’ve had in years, Barok. I’ve really missed you.” He looked up and into my eyes, and I was overcome with such emotion that I had to break the gaze. My face was heating up, my eyes were stinging, and a knot secured itself tightly in my throat. “I-I’m sorry if that was untoward.” 

 

I shook my head, my mouth unable to formulate my thoughts into words. The silence that settled was deafening. “Well, um- I wish you luck with, well… everything. You’ve got quite a lot on your plate to deal with once I leave, don’t you?” 

 

I nodded and swallowed, only somewhat clearing up the knot, “I think I may publicize it.” 

 

“The truth of the Professor?” I nodded, “If that’s what you feel is right.” 

 

“Klint only wanted to hide it for my sake. But I feel dirty keeping his secret.” Somehow, talking about my brother being a murderer was easier than talking about my feelings with Albert, “I think I will.” 

 

“Please just-” He stammered for words for a moment, “Stay safe, Barok. From… everything .” 

 

It felt like no time before I was seeing him off at the docks. Quiet words, exchanged awkwardly. Both of us were holding something back, though on his side, I have no idea what it may have been. 

 

Watching him leave tore at my heartstrings, but I knew it was for the best that he left me behind. Hopefully he’ll go back to Germany and just forget all about me. 

Chapter 4: Gina

Notes:

For the first 5 chapters, the point of view will alternate, but the timeline will be the same. Every character experiences something different upon the time of Ryunosuke’s departure, so I felt it was important to give them each one chapter during the same period of time to delve into it. After the initial 5 chapters, the story will continue to progress in a normal, chronological manner by chapter, still alternating points of view to characters not in any particular pattern, but just as needed.

So, for this one, it’s in Gina’s POV, but it’s not written like how Gina speaks. That would be waaayyy too annoying, both to write AND read. But I tried to keep some of her inner voice.

I should’ve known better. 

 

As soon as I’d gotten my life turned around, and genuinely thought I had somebody that cared about me, and that I’d never have to go back to the streets again, it was all ripped away. The man I thought cared had turned out to be the right hand man of the Reaper. And Stronghart had taken my badge away. 

 

As soon as I left this courthouse, I’d be back on the streets. 

 

“Lestrade, was it?” 

 

I quickly wiped the tears that had been cascading down my face and turned to see that weird coroner lady. “Wot do you want?” 

 

“Well, I was on my way out, and I saw you, which reminded me that you got your badge taken away. I remember seeing your trial… are you going back to being a pickpocket?” 

 

I turned to face away from her, “That’s none of yer business…” 

 

“Why can’t it be?” I cringed when she sat down on the bench beside me, “My house is big and empty. I’m assuming you don’t have anywhere to go anymore?” 

 

“Wot are you assuming that for?!” I snapped, scooting even further away from her, “Just leave me alone.” 

 

She sighed, got something out of her pocket and sat it down on the bench, then stood up, “Please, do consider my offer. I have plenty of free rooms.” 

 

With that, she left. 

 

I finally looked down at what she laid down; a card with what I could only assume was her address on it. 

~~~~

Well, as the night got colder and colder, rain started drizzling down, and I was sick of sitting on the side of the street and watching poor little Toby shiver… the cold broke me. So, after a long time of searching and asking around for help reading the address, I ended up knocking on her door, giant and gaudy as it was. I felt remarkably small in front of it, the house towering over me with its fancy decorations. This place ain’t for somebody like me…

 

“Lestrade!” She flung the door open, a dark blue robe wrapped tightly around her, her white hair hanging down in sheets, “Hurry, come in, it’s freezing out there!” 

 

I followed her in quietly, where she led me to a large sitting room with a roaring fireplace. “I’ll go get you a blanket.” 

 

“I don’t need no blanket.”  

 

She didn’t even listen. She came back a few minutes later with a blanket and tea, and really, how could I say no at this point? 

 

“I love your little puppy! Toby, was it?” She looked much different with her hair this way, I couldn’t help but think. 

 

“Yeah.” I wrapped the blanket around us, “He probly ain’t very clean. I can give ‘im a bath.” 

 

“Don’t worry about it right now, you must be tired.” After an awkward pause, she asked, “Have you eaten?” 

 

“Yeah.” I lied. I’d fed Toby. That was what mattered. 

 

“Good. Um, well- I prepared a room for you, just in case you were to come by. Whenever you’re nice and warm, I can take you to it.” 

 

I shrugged. In all honesty, I’d really just rather be alone right now. 

 

So, she took me up the stairs into a bedroom that seemed larger than the room I’d shared with 10 other kids. Most of the furniture itself was a sleek black, decorated with white and blue fabrics. I felt even more like an outsider here. “It hasn’t been used in a long time, so I hope it’s comfortable. Oh, and there are some spare clothes in the closet and drawers if you need them. I believe we’re around the same size.” She prattled off, “The washroom is just across the hall, and my bedroom is the one at the end of the hall on the right, just in case you need anything.” 

 

It was hard to say it, but I knew I needed to. “Thanks…”

 

Her smile softened, “You’re absolutely welcome. Have a good night, Inspector Lestrade.” 

 

She closed the door before I could even process what she’d called me. Inspector . The first person to ever actually refer to me as that (even though it wasn’t true even when I was working for the police, so it sure as hell wasn’t true now .)

 

I pushed down that feeling of anxiety and panic and instead started investigating the drawers. I hated wearing dresses, but all she had were nightgowns, so it’d have to do. 

 

I changed, found a proper brush in a drawer by the bedside and actually properly brushed my hair for the first time in a while. I probably need to take a bath, too… 

 

I’d worry about that tomorrow. If the Doctor actually planned on housing me long-term. (And if I actually planned on taking her up on that offer.) 

 

With all the stress of the day, I was honestly surprised by how well I slept. It was probably just because the past few days had been so emotional, and, well… a big, comfy bed certainly helps. 

 

I only got up when I did because Toby needed outside. Hoping that I was sneaking around, I put on my socks, boots, and coat and headed downstairs as quietly as I could. But Dr. Gorey was already in the sitting room, fully dressed at that. 

 

“Ah, good morning, Lestrade! Did you sleep well?” 

 

“Yeah, fine. Uh… is it alright if I take Toby out on yer lawn?”

 

“Certainly. But if you wouldn’t mind, take him to the edge of the woods, please; I’m having to do all the landscaping and it's been quite a job.” 

 

I did as she said, my legs freezing in the half-melted snow, but when I returned she was missing from the sitting room. I sat down in front of the fire for a moment to let Toby get warm, and realized I could smell something cooking. My stomach growled in response. 

 

“I hope you’re alright with toast and bacon. I don’t have much else.” She called from somewhere else in the house. 

 

Oh, she’s cookin for me?! “Ya didn’t have to make nuffin’ for me.” 

 

“How else would you eat, otherwise?” As much as I hated it, she did have a point, and I was starving. 

 

She came back a few minutes later with two plates, “I kept a little left-over for Toby, if he wants some.” 

 

“Sure he will.” 

 

She put one plate on the floor, Toby absolutely devouring it as soon as it touched the ground, and the other on the coffee table. I got out of the floor to eat more properly, half wondering if she was expecting me to take the plate to a dining room or something. But she sat down in an armchair, so I figured it was fine. 

 

“I’m glad my clothes fit you.” She commented after a moment of very awkward silence, “That should make things much easier moving forward.” 

 

Moving forward…

 

“You really wanna keep me ‘ere..?”

 

“I don’t see why not. You need somewhere to stay and I have a room for you. It’s simple.” 

 

“Well yeah, but… this is yer ‘ome. I kinda feel like I’m… invadin’ or somefin’.” 

 

Her smile faded, “It’s hardly a home anymore. To be entirely honest, the loneliness was beginning to get to me.” That’s right, her mum got put in the slammer. “Not that my motives were entirely selfish, but-“ she looked down, “It benefits both of us, wouldn’t you say?” 

 

“I guess so.” A very awkward silence hung over us again. “I’m sorry about yer mum.” 

 

“It’s fine. We weren’t exactly… close. I shared a lot of her interests, but that’s really all we discussed.” But her voice wavered, and it didn’t take a great detective to know why, “I’m sorry about Inspector Gregson.” 

 

I should’ve seen that coming.

 

I had to look down to fight the tears that automatically formed in my eyes, “‘s fine.” 

 

Just when I was sure I was going to break, Gorey called, “Watch out-“ just in time for Toby to jump up and grab a piece of bacon off my plate. 

 

“Toby!!!” I scolded him, but it was too late to get it back, now. 

 

“Maybe it was a bad idea to not eat at the table.” Gorey commented. 

 

“I’ll just eat faster.” I had absolutely no appetite, but I somehow forced myself to eat it all before Toby could get his grubby little snout back on my plate. 

 

“Did you have enough?” She asked once I’d scarfed it all down. 

 

“Yeah, I think so. And Toby’s had more than enough.” 

 

“He’s a bit feisty, isn’t he? Just like his owner.” She commented as she tried to beckon him over. Being a friendly dog, he went, and she got to enjoy being licked and play-bitten. “Goodness, you’re quite a cute little thing!” She giggled.

 

“He is, ain’t he?” 

 

“I think I love him.” She laughed, “You can’t leave me now, I’d be heartbroken.” 

 

“That was yer plan all along, wouldn’t it? Get me to move in wiv you so you could cozy up wiv Toby.” 

 

“Guilty as charged.” After a moment, Toby was finished with her, and jumped back down to run around the room a little bit, and she stood, “Alright, I’ll take that plate from you.” 

 

I should give Toby a bath, shouldn’t I? 

 

“Thanks, uh… do you care if I give Toby a bath?” 

 

“Do whatever you like. My home is yours.” 

 

So I did. The bathtub was way too big and clean, and the towels were way too soft to be using on a puppy. Ya know, I probably stink too. Specially to someone who lives like this. I bet she bathes at least once a week. 

 

Once I got Toby out, I put him in my bedroom with a little bowl of water and took my own bath. It must be nice, being able to do this stuff all the time. 

 

Thankfully, there were clean undergarments in the bedroom drawers, along with some actual pants and shirts rather than dresses. They were just a little big on me, but it wasn’t a big deal. 

 

When I went downstairs with Toby, Gorey asked me how they fit and I was honest. “We’ll have to go get you some of your own clothes.” 

 

“Naw, it’s fine. I just need to wash my old ones.” 

 

“If you’re living with me, you’re going to have more than one pair of clothes. That’s my one stipulation.” 

 

She’s gonna make me say it, ain’t she? “I ain’t got no bronze to buy no clothes.” 

 

“I didn’t ask if you did . I’m buying them. Shall we go at lunch?” 

 

No matter how much I tried to refuse, she pushed and pushed until I gave in. I had to leave Toby back home, since those fancy toffs wouldn’t take too kind to a mutt in their store. 

 

I had to give it to her, she did try to look for clothes that weren’t too fancy, but they still cost more bob than I would ever be comfortable spending on clothes. 

 

“We do need to get you a nice dress.” She said just as I’d gotten comfortable with what she’d picked out. 

 

“Wot for?!”

 

“Whatever for. It’s important to have one. What if you’re invited to a police ball?”

 

“I ain’t got no badge anymore. That ain’t happenin’.” 

 

“Well… your badge was revoked by a serial killer who was arrested before he could leave the courtroom. Surely it’s possible that you’re reinstated.” 

 

I hadn’t even thought of that. But they weren’t about to reinstate a girl into the police force, not without a lot of arm twisting from Herlock Sholmes. “No one wants a diver workin’ for the pigs.” 

 

“Well, why not? You know the mind of a criminal better than any other bobby on the force.” She argued, “Don’t be so down. They’re working on electing a new Chief Justice right now. Once they do, I’ll ask about my position and yours.” 

 

That’s right, she stole that evidence, didn’t she? 

 

“Right… thanks.” 

 

“How do you like this one?” She pulled out a long, emerald green dress from the rack. It looked fairly light and flowy, but… “You should really try it on. I think it’ll look marvelous.” 

 

The path of least resistance. 

 

So I did. And I had to admit… it was pretty. It just felt weird on someone like me. It kept me from being able to move around like I normally like to, but then again, it didn’t seem like I’d be going back to diving anytime soon. I shouldn’t need to run. 

 

“Come out when you get it on, I want to see!” 

 

Ugh, of course she does. 

 

I pulled back the curtain and she gasped, “It looks so pretty! Oh, you must let me buy it!”

This whole thing’s embarrassing… 

~~~~~

We were cooped up by ourselves for a while, and it wasn’t so bad. ‘Ria, as I got to call her, was a pretty fun person to be around. I was real bored one day, and she decided to teach me how to knit. It was good fun, though I wasn’t very good at it. I had loads of time to practice, though, if not just to have something to do with my hands.

 

We went out with Sholmes and Iris, too, and that was fun. Poor little Iris must be lonely without Oddo and Sooze around. I should check up on her every once in a while…

 

But finally, Ria was called to the Chief Justice’s office. 

 

“You’re coming with me.” She declared very confidently, slamming her hands on the breakfast table.

 

“Eh?! Wot for?” 

 

“To get your badge back.” She rose from her seat and started towards the hall, “Come along, we must make haste. Put on some of your nicer clothes, and we’ll head down there right away.” 

 

She left no room for argument, so I did exactly what she said, and we headed down there. 

 

The office was still that stupid clocktower, but now there was a different man there. He gave us a stiff smile and stood up from his desk, “Greetings, Dr. Gorey. I don’t believe I extended the invitation to visitors…?” 

 

“My Lord, this is Gina Lestrade. She used to have a badge and work for Scotland Yard under Inspector Gregson, but her badge was taken away by Lord Stronghart moments before he was relieved of his position. She makes a great detective, and I do hope you’ll consider having her back.” 

 

Geez, she has a way with words. 

I glanced over and noticed she was bowing down a little bit, and I figured I probably should, too. 

 

He laughed a little, and I felt my stomach drop as we both straightened, “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but first, I must consider if I’ll have you back. You stole evidence from the evidence room.” 

 

She bowed again, “I understand that I made an error, however, if I hadn’t , you may not be in the position you’re in now.” 

 

He seemed a little stunned. He blinked a couple of times, “I suppose you are right, young lady. But you must understand that this is not acceptable behavior in any other circumstances. Are we clear?” 

 

“Absolutely.” 

 

“Wonderful. I will allow you to continue practicing.” 

 

“Thank you, My Lord.” 

 

“As for you…” He looked at me, and considering how nice he was to Ria, I was starting to get a good feeling. “I’ll leave it up to our new Inspector whether he wishes to take you in. He seems to be a nice fellow. May I have an address to send word to?” 

 

Once Ria gave him her address, we were on our way. “I’m so happy things have worked out! I can’t wait to get back to cutting up corpses!!” 

 

“‘Ow do you like stuff like that, anyway?” 

 

She shrugged, “It’s just fascinating to me, the way the body works. And autopsies are similar to solving a mystery, except even easier because the answers are always there, just waiting for you to find them.” 

 

It still wasn’t any less weird to me.

~~~

It was a few days later, when I’d almost given up hope, that Ria yelled, “Gina!!! Gina you’ve got a letter!”

Despite not knowing how to read it, I tore into the living room and tore into the envelope. “Read it, read it!”

Uh oh.

 

What was I expecting?! The letter to speak to me?! Have pictures drawn on it?! 

 

“Well..?” 

 

I felt my face burning with shame, “I… I can’t read.” 

 

“You can’t read?! Oh no! Would you like me to read it for you?” 

 

“Yeah… Sorry. I know yer probably disappointed…” I commented as she took it from me. 

 

“No, no! Not at all! You just never had the opportunity to learn, but we can fix that. Now, let’s see what this says…” She cleared her throat, “‘Dear Lestrade, I have considered your position and would like to speak to you regarding your employment in person. Come to Inspector Marshall’s office at Scotland Yard headquarters anytime between 5 pm and 7 pm, any weekday.’ Gina, this is wonderful news!” 

 

“Is it really?” 

 

“Of course! If he wasn’t considering it, he wouldn’t have reached out to you, would he?” 

 

“I s’pose yer right…” 

 

We both went by that very afternoon, but she refused to go in with me, because of course she would. So I went in by myself. 

 

I wasn’t sure what to make of the bloke. He looked a little younger than Gregson, definitely more messy and more laid back. His clothes were weird. He was wearing an open vest, and had his sleeves rolled up, just like I usually did. He was looking at some sort of case file when I walked in. “Ah, you must be the young ex-pickpocket I read so much about. Have a seat.” He talked weird, too. A weird accent I’d never heard before. 

 

I very awkwardly took my seat, my head spinning from how different Gregson’s office looked. He’d already been cleaning it to prepare for his Paris move, but now it looked even more different with how this new guy had it set up. A weird, spikey plant in the corner, several frames of personal photographs, and a deer head mounted on the wall. “I’m Inspector Marshall. If I were to accept ya, you’d be workin’ for me.” Yeah, that’s how it goes. He pulled out a folder from god knows where and put it on top of whatever he’d been reading before, “I read you’re an orphan?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Ya seem fairly well-dressed.” 

 

“A good friend’s been helpin’ me out.” 

 

He stared me down for a second, “Can ya read?” 

 

“No.” I answered honestly. 

 

“I ain’t surprised.” He leaned back and kicked up his feet on the desk, with weird looking boots with strange little wheels on the heel. I cringed at the dirt he’d get on the file, “If you wanna tango with me, you’re gon’ have to learn to read.” 

 

“I’ve already started tryin’ some.” I only sorta lied. 

 

“Good. You’d better try harder. I’ll be needin’ somebody to take notes at crime scenes for me.” Awkward silence filled the room again, until he took his feet down. He sure is fidgety… “In the meantime, I’ll let ya shadow me for a while. I heard that Gregson fella thought good of ya.” 

 

I just nodded, a knot tightening in my throat. How many people did he talk to about me..? Does it make me look bad that he said something good about me? 

 

“Did I… say somethin’ wrong?” 

 

I didn’t realize until then my eyes were watering, “Naw, naw, yer good.” 

 

“That Gregson fella must’a meant a lot to ya.” He opened his desk drawer and grabbed something, then offered it to me. It was a handkerchief. 

 

“Naw, I don’t-I don’t need it.” 

 

“It’s on the house.” What’s that supposed to mean? After a brief silence, he added, “Just take it if ya want it for later.” So I took it. “Should I set up readin’ lessons for ya or can ya find a way to get ‘em somewhere else?” 

 

“I should be able to find a way…” Iris and Ria both seem like they’d want to teach me.

 

“If ya can’t, come back to me. And I wanna see ya in here on Mondee, 10 o’clock, unless ya get a telegram that says otherwise. Or, well… I’ll tell whoever takes it to ya to read it.” 

 

“Thank you, sir.” Saying thank you felt so foreign in my mouth, but I forced it out, anyway. 

 

“Ain’t nothin’ to write home about. Or, well…” He laughed, “Just get outta here and I’ll see ya on Mondee.” 

 

That very night, Ria got to work teaching me how to read and write. 

 

I came in on Monday just like he said, and I followed him around while he did basically nothing. We pretty much just walked around the beats and observed, since there wasn’t any crime that needed our attention. 

 

He was a weird guy. He strolled around, waving at folks and saying “Howdy,” and tipping his giant, floppy hat. 

 

He wasn’t like Gregson, but he did take me for lunch and insisted that ladies eat for free. I supposed that was something, but he didn’t have that kindness that Gregson had. And I wasn’t comfortable enough with him to pick on him, either. 

 

Learning to read proved to be a challenge. Ria was busy with work a lot of the time, so Iris ended up giving me the most lessons. She was a very good teacher, and she seemed to be having fun, so I wasn’t complaining too much.

 

Eventually, Inspector Marshall started letting me deliver things for him, which put me in Lord van Zieks’s office every once in a while. I couldn’t imagine how he and Mr. Asogi worked together after everything that came out in that trial. 

 

Mr. Asogi, or Soggy, as I came to call him, was a decent bloke, I guessed. For some reason, something told me Gregson wouldn’t want me to hold a grudge against him for what he almost did. Even though Gregson did lots of awful things… 

 

But I still struggled with his death and the things he did almost every day. Toby was a constant reminder of him. One night, it got too much, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I got dressed, leashed Toby, and we went outside. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t really care. 

 

I didn’t get very far. “Gina!! What on Earth are you doing, it’s the middle of the night!!”

 

Dammit, now she’s caught me crying. I wiped my face, but I kept going. Maybe if I walked far enough away she’d just go back inside. “Gina, get back here!” 

 

I could hear her charging through the snow, and she grabbed me by the arm and turned me around. “What’s the matter with you, dear?” 

 

Dear. 

 

“It doesn’t matter, we’re going back inside right now. ” She dragged me all the way back through the door, “Sit down. I’m making tea, then I’ll start the fire, and then we’re talking.” 

 

She was so demanding about it, I didn’t have a choice but to go along with it. 

 

Once I was settled with the tea, she asked me, “Now what is the matter?” 

 

I took a long drink before I even tried to talk, “I miss Gregson. He was a good bloke, when he wouldn’t plottin’ to kill people.” 

 

“I can’t imagine how difficult that must be.”

 

“That’s a lie, an’ you know it.” 

 

She looked down, “You’re right. It’s been difficult for both of us, hasn’t it? People we were close to, and looked up to, found guilty of horrible things.” I nodded, “But, somehow, we managed to come together during it. We’ll make it through this. I believe in us.” 

 

“Ya really think so?” 

 

“I really do.” We sat there for a minute, quietly. “Can I give you a hug, Gina?” 

 

The question was so blunt, but so complicated. “Oh, uh- if ya-if ya want to-” 

 

A hug felt amazing. Especially from her. She’d housed me, fed me, and even given me the clothes I wore. We were friendly, sure, but I’d really worried about being a burden on her. Just another thing to worry about. 

 

“Thank you, Gina. For everything.”

 

Wot?! 

 

“Thank me?! For wot?! ” 

 

“For being here. And being so kind and caring. And fun. I don’t know where I would be if you hadn’t moved in.” 

 

I settled into the hug a little more, “I don’t, neither.” 

Notes:

I’m not sure if they really had dressing or fitting rooms back then, but this is the ace attorney universe so cut me some slack

ALSO I dont remember if Ryunosuke called Gina by Inspector, if he did leave me a comment and Ill remove that part or change it somehow :)

Chapter 5: Iris

Summary:

For the first 5 chapters, the point of view will alternate, but the timeline will be the same. Every character experiences something different upon the time of Ryunosuke’s departure, so I felt it was important to give them each one chapter during the same period of time to delve into it. After the initial 5 chapters, the story will continue to progress in a normal, chronological manner by chapter, still alternating points of view to characters not in any particular pattern, but just as needed.

Notes:

I know Iris is a very experienced writer, but this is moreso written in HER voice rather than her author voice.

It was really difficult for me after Susie and Runo left. Daddy did his best to help. He was probably sad, too, with Mickey gone, but he tried not to show it to me. He took me out to the theatre, both concerts and plays (but mostly concerts,) which made me wonder why we never did until now. It was positively delightful. 

 

The days in between were harder. Cases weren’t coming in like they used to, so I didn’t have as many things to write about. Which just made me think more about how quiet the house was. I missed cooking breakfast with Susie, and pulling pranks on (and with) Runo. 

 

After a particularly bad day, Gina and Mary came over. I wondered if Daddy was behind it, but I didn’t question it. I was just happy to have someone else in the house. 

 

I was delighted when I realized I could invite them to see the orchestra with us. 

~~~~~~

I spent even longer than normal getting ready the next day, putting on my nicest, black dress and my cutest shoes. Ginny and Mary came to the house, and when I first saw Ginny in her new green dress, I gasped. “That looks so wonderful on you, Ginny! You really should wear women’s clothes more often!” 

 

She turned bright red, “It’s just… uncomfortable. I don’t get how you wear this stuff all the time.” 

 

The orchestra, as usual, was delightful. Ginny was absolutely astounded, much like I was the very first time I went. She was buzzing all throughout supper about it. 

 

However, as we were walking to an omnibus stop, we were stopped by a panicked older gentleman. “Did any of you see a cat just now? She’s little and orange.” 

 

Naturally, we all looked around, but Daddy confirmed no one had seen it. But I had an idea. “Daddy, did you bring your gun?” 

 

“I always do. Whatever for?” 

 

“Let me see it.” 

 

The man looked quite surprised, and Daddy even laughed, “As long as you don’t plan to shoot the poor devil.” 

 

“Of course not! I’m not a monster! Now, everyone, stand back.” I loaded the contents required to activate the skinprint portion of the gun, put on my goggles, and fired at the pavement. As the dust cleared, only our footprints remained. “Which direction did you last see her go?” 

 

“I think she went to my left, but I couldn’t tell you which alley.” 

 

“Well, that’s what this is for.” I took a few steps forward, and fired again. Sure enough, tiny little paw prints came into view. “Perfect! We’re hot on her trail now!” 

 

The trail led us to an alley, but it suddenly stopped. I couldn’t find them anywhere else. It could’ve jumped on the bin, but it didn’t leave a mark on the lid. It could’ve jumped over the fence at the end of the alley, but it didn’t leave prints on the other side. 

 

“Well, I believe there is only one logical conclusion.” All attention was drawn towards Daddy, who took a confident puff of his pipe, “She must’ve scaled the building and jumped in that open window.” 

 

While the building he was referring to did have an open window, its ledges weren’t nearly big enough for something the size of a cat to latch on to. Something that everyone seemed to notice, because Gina jumped on it quickly, “And how the blazes did she do that, eh?! Did she grow wings and fly?!” 

 

She had to jump on or in something… Wait, the bins! 

 

I walked straight over to the bin and lifted the lid, just in time to see a cowering orange kitty on top of some rubbish. “Aha! There you are!” 

 

The man quickly came over to collect his kitty, cooing at her all the while. “Thank you so, so much, young lady.”

“It was a pleasure.” I could get used to this. 

~~~~~

We tried to reach out to Asogi and van Zieks, but it proved very difficult to get their attention and keep it. They were very, very busy all the time, and when we took them lunch, they were very distracted and wanted to get back to work quickly.

 

Luckily, Ginny needed someone to teach her how to read, and there was no one better than I to help out. She came over several times a week, after work, and I coached her, along with giving her homework. It was quite a lot of fun, it gave me something to look forward to, and someone to talk to. When I wasn’t talking to Ginny or writing, I was sewing. I’d gotten quite serious about it recently, even preparing Christmas gifts.

~~~~~~

Finally, Christmas was coming up. The perfect opportunity to invite everyone over. I already had everyone’s presents planned and made (with the help of Hurley,) besides van Zieks’s, which was a little more complicated than that. 

 

I figured, I might as well invite everyone in person. Starting with Ginny and Mary, when Mary came to pick up Ginny from one of our reading sessions. 

 

“You know Christmas is coming up…” I began with a sneaky smirk.

 

Mary gasped, “You’re not planning something, are you?!” 

 

“Maaaaybe… Are you available on Christmas Eve?” 

“We are most certainly available! Aren’t we, Gina?” 

 

“That we are.” 

 

I let out a massive breath of relief, “Oh, goody! You must come over for supper, then!” 

 

“We certainly will. What time?” 

 

With that, it was planned with them. Now it was the harder 2 gentlemen left to convince. Plus, I needed van Zieks’s plushie I gave him for his birthday, so I could modify it. 

 

So the next morning, we took off to the Prosecutor’s office. 

 

“Mr. Sholmes and Ms. Wilson… To what do we owe the pleasure?” van Zieks asked, his normal scowl on just as tight as normal.

 

“Weell, as you both know, a certain holiday is coming up…” Daddy began. 

 

“And we wanted to know if you’d like to come over for a little Christmas Eve dinner.” I finished.

 

They both exchanged confused glances. “ Both of us?” Asogi asked. 

 

“Of course! I wouldn’t have come to your office just to exclude one of you. You’re both invited!” 

 

After another shared glance, van Zieks said, “It would be a disservice to refuse.” 

 

“Wonderful! Oh, before I forget; do you remember that birthday present I got you?” 

 

Surprisingly, he kept it on his coat on the back of his chair. He removed it from the pocket and held it up. “This?”

 

“Precisely! Can I have it back?” At his confused look, I laughed, “I’ll give it back, I promise!” 

 

“Certainly…” He handed it over, looking very suspicious of me. 

~~~

Only a week later, the big day arrived. I’d spent all morning cooking and cleaning, and I still didn’t even have enough time to change my clothes before our first guest arrived. 

 

“Ah, dear madams, come in, come in!” Daddy greeted just as I rounded the corner from the kitchen to the living room, confirming that Mary and Ginny were the first arrivals. 

 

“You’re a little early, so I’m afraid I still have a little cooking left to do.” I announced. 

 

“That’s alright! Do you want some help?” 

 

“No, you’re my guests! It’ll be done in just a few minutes!” 

 

Once it finally was done, I recruited Daddy to get out the plates and I rushed to my room to change. I’d set out a nice, poofy red dress for the occasion, and I was beyond excited to wear it. 

 

By the time I made it into the living room, Asogi had just come in the door. He was kneeling on the ground to untie his boots, a bag sitting next to him. “You don’t have to take off your shoes, you know.” I reminded him. I knew Susie and Runo always needed reminders. 

 

“Oh, I got snow on the bottoms from outside. That’s why.” He explained with his cheeks only a little pink, and before anyone could say anything else, he had his boots off and grabbed his bag, “I, um- I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bring anything, but I made a dessert. It’s from Japan, if you don’t want to try it that’s completely fine, I just thought-” 

 

“No, that’s perfect! What is it?” I asked as I took the bag from him. 

 

“It’s called monaka, it’s made of-”

 

“Susie used to make that for us!” I realized, “Oh, I’m so excited to have it again!”

He smiled sadly, “I taught her how to make it, actually, so it’ll probably taste similar.” 

 

“How delightful! I’ll just take it in the kitchen until dessert.” 

 

Thankfully, as we finished making up the plates full of food, van Zieks arrived, bringing a bottle of non-alcoholic juice with him to share. So we all piled into the living room and filled our plates with what we wanted, then each got a glass of the sparkling juice.

 

“This is very good, Iris!” Mary complimented through a half-full mouth, gaining murmured agreements from around the coffee table.

 

Heat rushed to my face, “Thank you! I worked very hard on it.” 

 

“I can tell.” Ginny said, “Wish I could eat ‘ere every day.” 

 

After a little while of eating, I realized something, “You don’t celebrate Christmas in Japan, do you, Kazzie?” 

 

He blinked with raised brows, then took a quick moment to swallow, “ Kazzie? ” 

 

Oh right, I haven’t used his nickname in front of him yet. “I like to give all my friends nicknames. And I already knew your first name thanks to Susie and Runo, so I figured Kazzie would be best. Do you like it?” 

 

He looked like one of Daddy’s subjects when he caught them in a contradiction. “If-If that’s what you want to call me.” 

 

“Perfect! And for you …” It was clear van Zieks was expecting it, though I wasn’t sure if he was happy about it, “I know Mr. Reaper isn’t very nice anymore, and van Zieksy doesn’t really roll off the tongue, so how does Mr. Barry sound?” 

 

“Whatever you wish.” 

 

“Then it’s settled! Mr. Barry and Kazzie!” 

 

Once the food was mostly cleared, Daddy and I took the plates back to the kitchen and prepared for dessert. I brought out the chocolate cake I’d baked, along with biscuits and Kazzie’s monaka. 

 

“I think everybody should try Kazzie’s monaka first.” I declared, “I think it’s only fair to Kazzie.” 

 

“Anyone who doesn’t want to try doesn’t have to-”

 

“No, I insist!” I argued, “You went through all the trouble to get ingredients for it, so it should be tried by everyone.” 

 

So, everyone tried it. Ginny seemed to like it pretty well, Mary seemed neutral, and Barry didn’t seem to really like it all that much, though he ate all of it and didn’t complain. He was much more of a fan of the chocolate cake, which was fair, it was more familiar. 

 

Daddy scarfed his down quickly, as he always did, except this time he clearly had a mission. And I already knew what it was even before he jumped up, threw the plate aside, and went straight for the violin. 

 

“It looks like we’re about to be serenaded.” I said only semi-sarcastically. He could play well, when he was in the right mood. I just couldn't figure out his mood today. 

 

“Oh, brother…” 

 

Luckily, it was one of his good mood days, and he played some classic Christmas tunes while the rest of us ate at a normal pace and chatted idly. Ginny and Mary carried most of the conversation, while Kazzie and Barry sort of sat back and listened. I hope they don’t feel awkward… 

 

Finally, the plates were cleared, and everyone was stuffed. I made Daddy stop playing to help me carry the plates back, and then, it was time to exchange gifts. “I want to give mine out first!” I announced, rushing to my side of the room to get the multiple bags and hand them out. 

 

“How should we go about opening them?” Mary asked, “All at once, or one at a time?” 

 

“I’d prefer one at a time.” 

 

They decided to go clockwise starting with the first to receive a bag, which was Mary, simply because hers was the lightest. 

 

“Oh, these are such pretty colors!” She said excitedly as she pulled out the bundles of yarn, “These will certainly come in handy. Thank you so much, Iris!” Before I could say anything, she looked in the bottom and gasped, “What is this?! ” 

 

She pulled out her little felt doll, a white fox with her plague doctor mask, wielding little cleavers. “Oh, this is just precious! Iris, I love you!” She got up to give me a hug. 

 

“Aww, I’m happy you like it!” 

 

“It’s so cute!” She repeated again, even as she sat back down. 

 

Next, it was Ginny’s turn. She opened up the bag and gasped, “Another one?!” She pulled out the smoke grenade launcher. 

 

“Now it’s much easier to load. I can teach you later.” 

 

“Cor blimey, I can’t wait.” She then realized that she had something in the bottom of her bag, too. “You didn’t.” 

 

“I might have…” 

 

She pulled out the little Gina figure, a little golden retriever with her signature green jacket and a little badge attached to it. She’s holding Toby out, and he’s sniffing. “That’s… so sweet.” If I wasn’t mistaken, she was tearing up a little bit. 

 

Next was Daddy, who I’d just gotten a microscope, since he’d wanted one so badly. He was so happy with it that he jumped up and hugged me. Like he couldn’t have afforded to buy it himself. 

 

After Daddy came Kazzie, who I gave a blanket I’d made a while back that I didn’t know what to do with. And of course, at the bottom was his felt doll. 

 

I’d talked to Susie and Runo a lot about him. Especially Runo when Susie was gone. So for some reason, I felt he was much more likely to enjoy a depiction of himself in his student uniform, with the red ribbons, just like Runo described. The only thing I left off was his sword, since he had given it back to Runo. 

 

He stared at it for several moments, seemingly a little shocked. “You shouldn’t have made me something like this.” 

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” He was unable to answer, or even look up at me, for that matter. “I did it because you’re my friend, of course!”

 

He not-so-subtly cleared his throat, “Well, thank you. I’ll cherish it.” 

 

Finally, it was Barry’s turn. He started to pull out the blanket, and I added, “I made sure it was several inches longer than Hurley to make sure it would fit you.” 

 

“How very thoughtful. This is excellent craftsmanship.” I’m glad. I rushed to finish it. “Oh..?” He pulled out his little doll, turning it in his hand, “It didn’t change.” 

 

“It actually did. Everyone, get your dolls out.” 

 

Everyone followed my command, “Now, you remember seeing the ones Daddy and I had in court? Runo had it, but it was mine, originally.”

“It worked like a telephone.” Barry said hesitantly. 

 

“Precisely! Now, yours do, too! But you activate them in different ways. So, for you , Mr. Barry, you pull on the little sword. For Ginny, you pull on Toby, for Mary, you pull on the mask, and for Kazzie, you pull the ribbons. All of them are connected, so no conversations are guaranteed to be private. But I thought it was a wonderful idea, especially considering how dangerous your jobs are.” 

 

“How did you do this?!” Mary asked. 

 

“I created the electronics, actually.” Daddy said with a puffed chest.

 

“But I came up with the idea in the first place.” I asserted, “ And I made them look cute.” 

 

“They are quite adorable.” Mary agreed. 

 

“This might as well be some sorta witchcraft.” Ginny said, eliciting a laugh from most of the room. 

 

After another round of thanks, we moved on. Daddy gave his out next. 

 

Mary opened up her bag, a box set of decorative knives Daddy and I had picked out. “Oh, they’re beautiful! I couldn’t dare use these on corpses.” 

 

“I’m sure there are other uses for knives.” I commented.

 

“Definitely. Thank you!”

Then was Ginny, who’d gotten a small bag of toys for Toby, along with a harness and collar. “Toby, yer gonna love this! Look ‘ere!” She took out a small ball and gently tossed it.

 

Toby, who’d been sitting obediently in the floor, took off after it, bumping his head on a table trying to get to it so quickly. “Thank ya, Sholmes.” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

After her was Kazzie, who pulled out a leather journal and a small calligraphy set. “This is far too expensive-” 

 

“I got the calligraphy set for a very low price at Windibanks, rest his soul. So don’t you fuss about it!” Sholmes argued. 

 

“Well… thank you.” 

 

Finally, it was Barry’s turn. All he’d gotten was a singular bottle of alcohol. “I was given it by a client, and I hate the stuff, so I figured you could put it to good use.” 

 

“I shouldn’t be surprised.” He very obviously has no idea how to say thank you.

 

At last, though, it was my turn. I knew what it was just by the weight, but I pretended to be surprised when I opened the bag to the newest set of books by my favorite author. “Oh, goodie! I’ve been wanting these for the longest time!” 

 

Then, it was time for Barry to give out presents, though he began by saying, “I apologize, I only brought personalized presents for the hosts. The juice was a present for everyone.” 

 

“We told you you didn’t have to bring anything. ” I argued as he handed out a bag to me and Daddy. 

 

Barry insisted that ladies go first, so I opened it up to see a brand new gardening set. “Oh, this is just gorgeous! My tools have been getting a little rusty recently. Thank you so much, Mr. Barry!” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

Daddy opened his, and pulled out a bottle of soap. “Should I be insulted?” 

 

Barry rolled his eyes, “It was gifted to me as a present from Albert, but something about it disagreed with my skin. But it’s a nice soap, so I felt it shouldn’t go to waste.” 

 

“So, you both gave each other re-gifts?” I observed. 

 

Both of them went red, “I suppose we did.” Barry admitted. 

 

Now it was Ginny’s turn. All of hers were just in one small bag, which she settled in her lap, “So, ‘Ria’s been teachin’ me to knit, and I figured makin’ mittens would be good practice.” She started handing out mittens, one by one, to everyone. They were different colors. Mine were pink, Barry’s were purple, Kazzie’s were red, Mary’s were blue, and Daddy’s were orange. “I was gonna make ‘em gold but couldn’t find no gold-colored yarn.” 

 

“I appreciate them no matter the color, my dear madame.” 

 

After a round of thank yous, it was finally Mary’s turn. She had a little bag for everyone, and we started with Ginny. 

 

Mary had knitted her a tiny little Toby, about the size of her hand. “Aw, this is just darn cute!”

 

“Make sure Toby doesn’t get ahold of it.” Daddy commented, eyeing Toby chewing on his ball. 

 

“Yeah, I’ll have to be careful wiv it. Thank ya, Ria!”

Daddy opened his next; a hand-knitted pipe. “Why, isn’t this just darling! It’ll go straight on my mantle.” 

 

Next was Kazzie, who pulled out a small black cat. “A cat?” I asked instinctively. I thought Kazzie didn’t like cats. 

 

“I’ve been keeping one at my flat, yes.” Huh. Maybe tripping over a cat didn’t bother him so much, after all. “This is very thoughtful, Dr. Gorey. Thank you.” 

 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m glad you like it!” 

 

Then was Barry, who got out a knitted bottle of wine. He actually almost smiled, “That’s quite humorous.” He observed, “And well put together. Thank you.” 

 

At last, it was my turn. I pulled out the prettiest little pink iris flower. “Oh, it’s beautiful! It almost looks real! ” I marveled.

 

“Thank you.” Mary chuckled.

 

“Thank you! I’d put it in a vase if I wasn’t worried I’d water it by mistake.” 

 

With that, Christmas dinner was a success! It seemed like I’d at least somewhat succeeded in bringing everyone together, and that was all I had wanted. 

~~~~~

I was surprised when, the next morning, there were even more presents waiting for me. I hadn’t even noticed them at first; I’d gone from my bedroom straight to the kitchen, made breakfast, spent forever waking up Daddy, and then only saw the two bags when I sat down to eat. 

 

“What is this?” 

 

“Once we’re done eating you’ll-” He yawned widely, “-find out.” 

 

I must say, I ate much faster than normal so I could hurry up and get to those presents. I grabbed the small one first, pulling out… a book? 

 

It was a photograph book, and when I opened it, I realized it was full. The first page was a description page, which was full of neat handwriting. 

 

Iris! 

 

I have several pictures of us during our time there, but I thought it was unfair that you didn’t have any of us. So, here are some pictures and sketches I’ve collected from my father and Mr. Naruhodo to add to your collection! 

 

Sincerely, Susato Mikotoba

 

“Oh, how sweet. We need to send them some pictures, too.” 

 

“Indeed.”

 

I turned to the first page, seeing a recent photograph of Susie, Runo, and Mickey, in front of a building with Japanese lettering behind it. Runo and Mickey were dressed much like Susie. “Do boys wear dresses in Japan, too?” I asked Daddy. 

 

“I believe they’re called kimono, but essentially yes, they do. I think they’re a little different for men and women.” 

 

“They look interesting.” I read the writing next to it. 

 

This photograph was taken at the opening of Naruhodo’s legal consultancy. The sign says his name

 

“Oh, how wonderful for him.” He’ll never want to come back to Britain now. 

 

“How about we tackle the photobook later? It’ll probably take some time to look through.” Daddy suggested, very clearly wanting me to hurry up and open his present. 

 

“Fine, I will.” So, I put down the book and moved on to the larger bag. I pulled out a box, and I immediately knew what it was. He got me that new tea set. 

 

I opened up the case, and sure enough, there it was. White porcelain decorated with pink florals. “It’s so pretty! Thank you so much, Daddy!” I set it aside to give him a big hug. 

 

“You’re welcome, dear.” 

Notes:

Yeah I posted a Christmas fic in June... I'm not sorry.

I AM sorry for the delays in posting, though. I have been working as a transcriptionist for the past few months and man, after working a long shift of typing all day, you're really not motivated to go home and type more. But I'm still working on this, I promise! This has been sitting in my docs in various drafts for probably years, so I'm not letting it go easily!

Chapter 6: Kazuma

Notes:

Check the end notes for content warnings because this one is a little heavy.

It took some time to settle in. Like a slow-acting poison, it slowly broke down my walls until I found myself unable to think about anything but the aching hole in my heart that Ryunosuke, Susato, and Mikotoba left behind. 

 

I’d wanted to tear up the streets of London with Ryunosuke. Look where that got me. The only thing I had going for me was this cat, and I only ever saw her at night, usually when I was trying (and failing) to sleep. 

 

I missed life in Japan. It was so much more comfortable. Everything here was unfamiliar in the worst ways possible. No family, no friends, these strangely tight, restrictive clothes. It was all a nightmare. 

 

But I had committed to staying in Britain and to becoming the best version of myself that I could. I wouldn’t dare to face my comrades in Japan before I accomplished that.

 

I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize anybody was around me until I was tackled to the ground. 

 

I was on my way back to the office from delivering some paperwork, and naturally, I’d spaced out. I’d been spacing out a lot, recently, I realized as this random man pummeled me in the face for absolutely no reason, screaming something about how I was a good-for-nothing foreigner who had no business being in his country. 

 

I reached for my sword, only to realize I didn’t have one anymore. Curse you, Lord Pritchard. 

 

So, I went to blocking instead. Until he got bored of trying to punch through my arms, and decided to pull out a pocket knife. Am I really going to die here? From a random racial attack? On a Tuesday? 

 

He managed to cut me once on the arm before I heard a loud, “Drop it!”

He did it on instinct. An officer must’ve noticed us. “Get up!”

Wait… That’s van Zieks! 

 

He stood up slowly, like a cornered animal, and then made a run for it. “Gutter trash.” Van Zieks mumbled, then approached me. “Are you alright?” 

 

“Fine.” I pushed myself up off the cobblestone road. My entire body was sore, especially my upper body.

 

He grabbed my arm and, on instinct, I tried to flinch away. He held his grip, “We’ll have to patch that up… I don’t think it needs stitches.” 

 

I hadn’t even realized my arm was bleeding before then. I jerked it away successfully this time. “Did you hit your head on the ground?” 

 

“No.” He glared at me, and I suddenly felt like I was 16 years old again, being studied by Mikotoba while trying to lie about not having a cold. “Not hard.” I lied. I didn’t hit it hard, but I didn’t hit it softly, either. 

 

He sighed, then held out his hand, “Let me help you up.” 

 

“I’m not a child.” I grumbled. 

 

“You’re a man with an injury.” He reminded me, “The last thing we need is another episode. So you’re going to be taking it nice and easy for the remainder of today, and possibly tomorrow, too.” 

 

Of course. 

 

The walk to the office was very short, and thankfully so, because I was starting to feel a little nauseous. He made me sit down on a bench against the wall by the door and went into the back, where I knew he kept his first aid materials. 

 

I expected him to just dump them in my lap and tell me good luck, so I was surprised when he kneeled down in front of me. “Give me your arm.” 

 

He worked silently and efficiently, only speaking as he was finishing up the wrapping, “I will mention this attack to Lord Pritchard as soon as possible. Until then, you will at least carry a knife. He has no way to know, if you conceal it.” I nodded, but the movement nearly made me dizzy. 

 

He finished wrapping and stood up, “Were you hurt anywhere else?” 

 

“No.” Not anything you could wrap, anyway. 

 

“Alright. Give me one moment.” 

 

He left the office, and left me with my thoughts. Honestly, I was surprised I hadn’t been attacked sooner, considering Japanese people overthrew their government. 

 

Then I realized… I wasn’t afraid. I was mildly annoyed, at most, at the prospect of being killed on the streets on a random Tuesday. I was less annoyed about being killed, and more about the circumstances of it. 

 

Should I be concerned about that? 

 

“Asogi?” 

 

I jumped. Somehow, I’d managed to drift off while waiting for him. “You should drink some water.” He put a cup in my hands, watching me with crossed arms, a scowl, and furrowed brows while I obliged. “Do I need to take you to hospital?” 

 

“No,” I assured him, “I just- I haven’t been sleeping well. That’s all.” 

 

His scowl deepened. “For tonight, you certainly shouldn’t touch anything, but if you’d like, I can give you a bottle of wine. It helps to calm the nervous system, if that’s your problem.” 

 

Maybe? It couldn’t hurt to try. 

 

It did hurt to try. 

 

At first, it really helped. But after about a week, one glass wasn’t cutting it anymore. I increased it to one and a half. Which meant I needed another bottle sooner. 

 

I didn’t think much of it, but van Zieks did. “You need another one already? You’ve been drinking one glass?” 

 

“A little over. One glass wasn’t working as well.” 

 

“If one glass works for me, it should certainly work for you.” He considered it for a moment, then grabbed another bottle, “I will give you one per week. That is all you will get.” 

 

“Thank you, my Lord.” 

 

One and a half glasses turned into two. Then, it turned into three. It turned to sneaking drinks in the office whenever van Zieks wasn’t looking.  Which meant I had to start smuggling bottles from the back of his little bat cave. Just until the winter is over. The winter is always hard. I told myself. 

 

It was true that it was the first year I wasn’t able to visit my mother’s resting place for her death anniversary, and that was difficult. But it wasn’t truly my biggest motivator.

 

I thought I was functioning fairly well until I came into the office late one morning and he was in the back room. Oh, please don’t notice, please don’t notice-

 

“Is that you, Asogi?” 

 

He already sounded angry. 

“Yes, My Lord.” 

 

“What the hell do you think you’ve been doing?” He emerged from the curtains with the same look of rage as always, only the fire in his normally cold eyes revealed that he meant it. 

 

My blood ran cold. “Pardon?” 

 

“You know exactly what I am referring to. Do you want to become a drunkard?” I held my silence. How could I have responded, anyway? “You absolute fool. Sit down.” 

 

I sat down on the bench. He sat down in his desk chair. “So what is it?” I stared at him blankly. “Can you really not sleep? Or do you miss your home country?” 

 

There is absolutely no way I am revealing anything remotely personal to you right now. “Respectfully, that is none of your business-”

 

“It is absolutely my business when my wine collection has been suffering because of whatever it is that’s troubling you.” He snapped, slamming his hands on the desk for emphasis. My head ached at the sound. Did he do that on purpose?

 

“You have plenty of wine, anyway.” I retorted, immediately regretting the words I’d spoken.

 

“Oh, really? I have plenty of wine, so I should be fine with enabling my apprentice’s alcohol problem.” He gestured at his face, “You thought this was a result of some battle, yes?” I didn’t answer. It seemed rhetorical, “I obtained this scar when I drunkenly fell down the stairs of my manor, onto a shattered glass bottle. My alcohol problem resulted in a permanent alteration of my features.” He paused for a moment, “Have you considered what effect alcohol might have on that head injury of yours?” 

 

That head injury happened months ago. If not a year by now. Surely it’s not a problem anymore. The words were stuck in my throat. “You’re not getting another drop of alcohol from me. If you bring a bag big enough for smuggling a bottle, it will remain open and behind my desk for the entirety of your day.” 

 

He thought for a moment, then waved his hand, “Get to work.” 

 

I worked silently, my mood significantly blackened.

 

I’ll have to purchase some myself later. I wonder if something cheap will work as well as whatever fine wine he has? I wonder if I’ll even be able to tolerate the taste of it.

 

I did my best to set those thoughts aside and absorb myself in my work until Dr. Gorey came in. 

 

“I have the autopsy report!” She announced cheerfully. 

 

“Excellent. You may hand that to me.” She handed it to Lord van Zieks. “Before you leave, would you mind if I spoke to you outside for a moment?” He’s going to talk to her about me. 

 

She looked quite surprised, “Certainly.”

So, they went outside together. As soon as they were out of earshot, I groaned and let my head fall into my hands. I’m a total, utter disaster. 

 

It was a while before he came back, alone. “I’m sure you suspect the topic of our discussion.” He began. “Dr. Gorey is preparing a room in her home for you.” 

 

That got my attention. I spun around, “A room?!”

He nodded, “You will be cutting off your alcohol consumption abruptly. It’s good to have a doctor supervising you.” 

 

You’re kidding me. “If you will not comply, I will inform Mr. Sholmes and Ms. Wilson of your misadventures.” 

 

He’s using Mr. Sholmes as blackmail.

 

I was overcome with exasperation. “You’re going to blackmail me?” 

 

He rolled his eyes, as if I was being dramatic, “You need to be supervised for your own safety. Whether that’s by Dr. Gorey or Dr. Iris Wilson, I have no preference, but I’m sure you do.” 

 

I had no choice but to cooperate. 

 

So, that evening, Dr. Gorey picked me up. She took me by my apartment, where I packed some things and collected Kaya. 

 

Dr. Gorey treated me as though she knew nothing. She talked jovially about her day cutting up dead people and testing blood. It was worsening my headache. 

 

Her house, just as I’d suspected, was very nice. It wasn’t nearly as big as van Zieks’s, but it was certainly larger and more lavish than my dingy apartment. She led me to a spacious bedroom, explaining where everything was. I only really comprehended half of her quick-paced rambling. “Make yourself at home! If you decide to be social, I’ll be in the living room, and Gina should be home afterwhile, though I’d recommend trying to keep your cat away from Toby.” 

 

I nodded, and she left, closing the door behind her. God, this is going to be miserable. 

 

I spent a while just hanging up my clothes and watching as Kaya slowly crawled around the room, examining every little nook and cranny. I wonder if I’ll have the chance to sneak out and buy something..? 

 

Or should I just give in and actually quit? 

 

I mulled it over for what felt like hours, but I just couldn’t seem to come to a decision. Eventually, I decided to just throw the thoughts aside and join Dr. Gorey in the living room. 

 

“You decided to be social, after all.” She commented. 

 

“Yes. There’s not much to occupy myself with in that room.”

 

“I keep forgetting, I need to put some books in there or something. You’re free to take any you find around the house.” I will probably not be doing that. “What kind of books do you like to read?” 

 

“I’m not really much of a reader.” I admitted, “Not of fiction, anyway. I occupy most of my leisure time with other activities.” Like drinking.

 

“That’s understandable. I’m an avid reader of medical journals, myself.” Another awkward pause. “What other hobbies do you have?” 

 

“Not many. I’m a fairly boring man.” 

 

“I understand you drink every night?” The question was so blunt and abrupt, I was stunned into silence. She continued before I could collect my thoughts, “You need to find something to replace that. What about that calligraphy set Mr. Sholmes got you for Christmas?” 

 

I cringed, “I appreciated it, but… I’m used to doing calligraphy with a brush, not pens.” 

 

“You can buy a brush, you know.” She chuckled, "Let’s go out and get one soon. I want to see what you’re capable of.” 

 

She sure is persistent. 

 

Shortly after, Lestrade returned home with Toby, and the evening got started. We had dinner, played cards, and before bed, Dr. Gorey pulled me aside. “I must warn you, since your boss has entrusted your wellness with me, I must have full access to your room and your belongings at all times. I cannot have you sneaking alcohol into my home.” I nodded. She was a scary woman when she was serious. “Also, please sleep decent, I will be opening your door to make sure you haven’t snuck out.” 

 

“I assure you, that’s not necessary-” 

 

“It is necessary. Besides, you could experience withdrawal symptoms in the middle of the night. I need to be aware if that’s the case.” 

 

“I feel fine.” I doubt I’ve drank enough to go through a full on withdrawal.

 

“Regardless. Those are my stipulations.” 

 

Strict household. I feel like I’m being told off by my mother at age 9. “I understand.” 

 

“Wonderful. Then, I hope you have a good-night.” 

 

I did not. 

 

Not only did I not have the alcohol to help me sleep like I usually do, I also had the constant paranoia that someone was watching me. Not as if I was doing anything wrong, but I don’t exactly like the idea of someone just opening my door and peering in at me anytime they please. Regardless of whether or not they’re a doctor. 

 

The first time she peered in, I was actually lying down, so I was able to avoid the interaction. Hours passed and I hadn’t seen her, even since I’d cut on the lights and moved to the desk, so I figured she’d probably fallen asleep and hadn’t woken up like she’d wanted to. If it were true, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about an awkward conversation. 

 

Meow. 

 

Kaya sat right at the door, staring directly at me. “You have to go out?” 

 

Meow.

 

She walked up to me, rubbed her head against my leg, and then walked back to the door again. As if I hadn’t gotten her message. 

 

“Fine, let me put on my shoes.” They’re going to think I’m sneaking out. 

 

Hopefully no one notices. 

 

I laced my boots, threw on my cloak, grabbed Kaya, and carefully snuck into the hallway. I was about halfway down the steps when I heard a loud clearing of the throat. I jumped and Kaya nearly escaped my hold, digging her claws into my cloak. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

 

Gorey was at the top of the stairwell. “I promise, Kaya needed to go outside. I was taking her out.” She narrowed her eyes. “Where would I even get alcohol at this time of night? Everywhere’s closed, unless I went to a pub at this time and risked an altercation with a ruffian. All while in the company of a nervous, black cat.” 

 

She sighed and proceeded down the stairwell, “I’ll be waiting for you.” 

 

So, I took Kaya to the forest’s edge and urged her to hurry up and do her business. Of course having to turn the other way and pretend I didn’t exist. When I finally got her back inside, Gorey asked me to remove my cloak. “You’re kidding.” 

 

“I’m not.” 

 

While holding Kaya with one hand, I managed to wriggle my way out of the cloak, which she then took from me and inspected closely, “No pockets. Good. I’ll escort you back to your room.” 

~~~~~~~

It was probably around 5 when I started feeling particularly anxious, and even a little shaky. I’d been practicing calligraphy the best I could on the paper in the desk, but my hands were just shaking enough to irritate me into stopping. With nothing else to do, I tried to play with Kaya, but even she could sense something was wrong. Was I really drinking enough to cause something like this..? 

 

Gorey stopped in around 6:30, “Good morning. You’re up early.” She said with a raised eyebrow. 

 

“Yes. Um…” 

 

“Are you trembling?” 

 

She’s fast. “I am.” 

 

“There’s one symptom of withdrawal. Hmm… maybe some tea would help? Something warm?” 

 

“If I can hold a cup.” 

 

“It doesn’t look that bad. I’ll give you one of my least favorite ones, in case you drop it.” 

 

The tea really didn’t do anything as far as I could tell, except perhaps provide a distraction. While she made breakfast, I found a book and tried to pay attention to it. 

 

Once Lestrade joined us and we ate, I pondered whether I’d be of any help at work. “I recommend staying home today.” Gorey said, “Although I worry about leaving you by yourself. I just really need to go in today; I’ve got a family who wants to know how their father died-“ 

 

“I can stay wiv ‘im. Jus’ drop by Marshall’s office an’ let ‘im know I ain’t comin’.” Lestrade interjected. 

 

“Alright, I’ll do just that. Please try to keep him occupied.” 

 

“Me an’ Toby’ll do a good job of it.” 

 

Luckily, as the day progressed, the anxiety subsided, and the hand tremors came and went. Lestrade was easier to speak to, perhaps because of her more curious nature. I even helped her with her English homework from Iris, which was something I never thought I’d be qualified to do. 

 

“Wot does your language look like?”

 

“What, Japanese?” 

 

“Yeah. Wot does it look like?” 

 

To satisfy her curiosity, I showed her some examples of Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji. “Looks prettier than English.” 

 

“A lot of the Japanese find English writing to be beautiful.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yes, indeed.” 

 

“Show me ‘ow to write somefin.” 

 

Needless to say, her homework was postponed for a little while. 

 

It was only around the time Gorey came home that I noticed a headache coming on. I shouldn’t have been surprised, given everything else my body had gone through today. 

 

I pushed through it, regardless, until after dinner. By then it had accelerated so severely I excused myself and laid down in the dark. 

 

In truth, the rest of the evening became blurry. I remember getting up for Kaya’s incessant meowing, but I don’t seem to recall what I did about it. I was most surprised when I found myself opening my eyes again, to a room full of light. 

 

“Kazzie, you’re up! Can you hear me?” 

 

Iris..? What is she doing here? 

 

“Yes.” I answered belatedly as she put her cold little fingers on my wrist. It seemed I was in Gorey’s sitting room, lying on the settee. 

 

“Your pulse feels a little faster than a moment ago… write down… 82 for me, Mary.” 

 

“What’s going on?” I finally managed to ask before she could begin talking about something else. 

 

“Don’t worry about it right now. Do you know what day it is?” 

 

Let’s see… God, do I know the date? Do I even know the day of the week?

 

“It’s Thursday, I believe. I’m not sure what day.” 

 

“That’s alright. Okay, I’ll leave the rest of the questioning to the other doctor. Until he gets here, would you like some water?” 

 

“Other doctor..?” 

 

Lestrade entered with a glass of water, and I supposed I was being forced into sitting up. My head swam with the movement. 

 

“Daddy’s getting a specialist for you. Says he owes him a favor.” 

 

Did I have another one of those episodes..? 

 

Where was I last? 

 

Let’s see, Kaya fussed at me. I went downstairs-

 

“Are you just going to hold your water or do you plan to drink it?” Iris interrupted my train of thought. 

 

I complied with her hidden order and drank, momentarily distracted by voices coming from another room. “Have I gone mad, or is Lord van Zieks here?” 

 

“He is. He’s in the dining room with Ginny.” I only realized then that Lestrade was, in fact, no longer in the room. How didn’t I notice her leaving? 

 

“What is he doing here?” 

 

Before she could answer, the door opened to Herlock Sholmes and a stranger. He looked about 40, about Sholmes’s height but with a hunched back and cane. 

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, Dr. Trevelyan.” Sholmes announced as if we were supposed to applaud or some such. When he received no such response, he continued, “The gentleman is your patient, Mr. Kazuma Asogi.” 

 

“You are my patient?” He asked with surprise. 

 

“I-yes, I suppose I am.” 

 

“You must forgive me, I am not used to having patients below the age of 50.” Or foreign, I just knew was the unspoken thought behind it. “I must ask now that everyone vacate the room, I need time alone with my patient.” 

 

He began with simple questions, such as my name, my birthday, and then started on memory questions. Specifically the question I was pondering earlier; where was I last? 

 

“I woke up- at least, I think I’d been asleep, to take my cat outside. She had been fussing. I came down the stairs, I believe I said something to the ladies, and… that’s all I can recall.” 

 

He jotted in his notepad the entire time I spoke, “Okay, I will speak to these ladies later to see how much you’re missing. Now, I’ve been told that you are currently experiencing withdrawal from alcohol.” 

 

They told Sholmes… 

 

Word is going to get to Japan and Mikotoba is going to fuss at me until I come home. Or come here and drag me home himself. 

 

“Sir?” I must’ve spent too long pondering my fate with the Mikotobas and forgotten to answer. 

 

“Sorry. Yes, I am.” 

 

“But this is not the first time you have had a seizure?” So that’s what it was called.

“No.”

 

He readied his pen again, “When was the first time?” 

 

Let’s see… I was on the ship, which would’ve been… “Some months ago. 6 or 8 maybe?” 

 

“And you’d never had one prior?” 

 

“Never.” 

 

He wrote down something, “Mr. Sholmes mentioned a head injury.” 

 

“Yes, I injured my neck and head shortly before then.” 

 

“Would you mind if I took a look?” 

 

“Certainly.” 

 

Naturally, there was no visible indication of injury so many months later, but I did realize that my neck stiffened when turning to the left. “That injury is very likely the reason you experience these seizures. There’s not much research on it, but, in my professional opinion, it’s no coincidence that they didn’t happen until after that.” 

 

“Will it ever stop?” 

 

He shrugged, “As I said, there’s limited research. So I couldn’t confidently say.”

 

So this could actually be a permanent problem… “Isn’t, um-” I tried and failed to recall the name of the condition, “this seen as debilitating? Aren’t people fired from their jobs for it?” 

 

“They are, yes. By fools who think it’s demonic possession, or even a mental problem. People are put in asylums for it, too. But it’s not unlike a heart attack, just less deadly.” 

 

“Is there anything that can be done to prevent them? I-I have a career-” 

 

“Firstly, there will be no getting drunk. I’d prefer if you didn’t touch alcohol whatsoever from here on out. It’s risky. Secondly, I want you to limit stress. I was told your boss is here and aware of your ailment. If he’s supportive, he will agree to ensure you’re resting a healthy amount.” 

 

He is not going to like being stuck with more paperwork. Or hiding my dirty secret from the Chief Justice. “Is that everything?” 

 

“That is roughly all you can do. Now, I’d like to call in everyone, if that is agreeable?” 

 

I agreed, and within a moment, everyone was coming into the sitting room. Lord van Zieks looked as cold and intimidating as always, with his tightly crossed arms. He clearly did not want to be here. Then why did he come..? 

 

I learned through their inquiries that I was completely missing probably 10 minutes of memory. Before that, there were holes. I’d stumbled downstairs with Kaya with no shoes on or cloak, and was apparently confused when forced to put them on. Both of them went outside with me, where I eventually grew pale and spaced out. Dr. Gorey forced me to sit down on the ground and that’s when it happened. It was because of her I didn’t hit my head again, which I was certainly grateful for. Though I hated that they had to carry me inside, and then pry Kaya away from me to put her in my room. I seemed to be nothing but a burden to everyone around me. 

 

Lord van Zieks then confirmed that it was very similar to what happened when I was staying at his manor, and then brought up my headaches, as well. 

 

“Yes, I remember, we escorted you home while you were having one.” Dr. Gorey interjected, “You were seeing flashing lights.” 

 

“That sounds like migraines. How often is that?” Dr. Trevelyan asked. 

 

“It depends on how hard I’m working. Ironically, I’d had them less while I was, um- drinking.” I hesitated to say in front of Iris, though it seemed she’d already been told. 

 

“Alright, then.” He turned to address Lord van Zieks directly, “I spoke to Mr…?” He trailed off, looking back at me. 

 

“Asogi.” I supplied.

 

“Yes,” He clearly felt uncomfortable even trying to pronounce my name, “I spoke to him about this a moment ago, but now I will you as well. To prevent seizures, and now migraines as well, stress must be kept to a minimum. His main stressor is his job, so I must ask if you would be willing to lift some of his workload?” 

 

Lord van Zieks sighed, “Truthfully, I’d already been trying to do so. He just works quickly and gets bored, so I figured there was no harm. But I will keep an eye on him.” He was already looking out for me..? 

 

I recalled, then, when Lord van Zieks took his leave after the Reaper case. When Lord Pritchard and I halved the paperwork, I realized Lord van Zieks was giving me less than half, even then. I’d just assumed it was because he wanted to work so badly, but perhaps it was also thoughtfulness for me. 

 

“Very well.” 

 

With only a few more instructions, he took his leave, leaving a room full of people with nothing in particular to say. 

 

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, “I’ve caused everyone nothing but trouble-” 

 

“Nonsense, my dear fellow. None whatsoever.” Sholmes cut me off, with murmured agreements from the others. 

 

“But- you-” 

 

“No buts. ‘e’s right.” Lestrade said, “We was helpin’ a friend. Ain’t no trouble to that.” 

 

A friend. These people really consider me their friend. 

 

Very much unexpectedly, I found myself tearing up. I looked down, hoping I could try to hide it, but I just couldn’t. I hadn’t been this emotional in what felt like years. I took in a deep breath, “I’m sorry.” I worked out with a wet, shaky voice, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me-” 

 

“I think you just need some rest, Kazzie. You’ve had a long day.” 

 

She was right. My eyes were heavy just from that little amount of exertion. 

 

I excused myself to my room, glancing the clock expecting to see 9 or 10, and instead seeing 1. I must have been out a long time. I hate that I worried everyone. 

 

I set those thoughts aside and climbed into bed with Kaya, who curled up right next to me and purred heavily. I don’t think I was awake for even a second longer.

~~~~~~~

The rest of my stay at Dr. Gorey’s went much more smoothly. My symptoms subsided as the days passed and I was able to work again. And while the insomnia was still a problem, I preferred that to triggering another seizure with alcohol. 

 

It was on Friday, the last night I’d be spending at Dr. Gorey’s, when Sholmes stopped by the office and asked if he could speak to me in private. 

 

Lord van Zieks collected his papers and rose, “Excellent timing; I was just about to deliver these papers. He’s all yours.” 

 

The moment he left, Sholmes got straight to business. “Iris and I have talked it over, and we would like you to move into our attic.” 

 

I honestly shouldn’t have been surprised, given his connection to Mikotoba. “You want me to move in?”

 

“Indeed. Mr. Asogi, I… Twice, Yujin has left you in my hands. I have already failed you once. I cannot fail you again.” 

 

I had never seen him without some sort of smirk or twinkle in his eye. I felt as though I was being dissected, studied like some sort of specimen of interest. I straightened, “You’re worried about my seizures?” 

 

“And your alcoholic tendencies.” He added, “But especially the seizures. Barry told me about the one you had in his manor. It happened in the middle of a hallway. If he hadn’t been in his study, he wouldn’t have known for some time. It frightens me to think about you lying on the floor in your apartment for hours with no help.” The thought was unsettling. I didn’t like to try to imagine what I must look like during those times. “Look; the attic is very spacious, and it has plenty of room for your little cat. Maybe she could even make friends with Wagahai and she won’t have to be lonely.” There was another brief pause where Sholmes realized he would have to use whatever it was he was holding back, “Additionally, if you move in, I have no need to mention this incident to Yujin.” 

 

So, if I move in with him, Mikotoba won’t be worried. And Kaya would be taken care of during the day. 

 

“I suppose I don’t have a choice.” 

 

“Wonderful! I’ll help you get out of your lease so you can move in straight away!” 

 

I hope this isn’t a mistake. 

Notes:

Assault and/or battery that's racially motivated, alcoholism, sort of wrong medical terminology?, seizures, I basically explore the concept of "what if kazuma is not completely okay after his head injury?" Also ik the alcohol amounts don't really add up with the bottles he's taking so let's just say that he doesn't pour actual wine glasses' worth so it equals out :)

And yes I stole Dr. Trevelyan from a Sherlock Holmes story but it's been so long since I read it that I don't remember which now

Chapter 7: Herlock

Notes:

Check for warning notes at the end :)

Dearest Yujin,

 

I am pleased to hear about your recent successes in case work! I feel as though you’ve flown the nest, using those skills I taught you all the way on the other end of the world. I must admit, I’m a little envious that I’m not there to see you do it. 

 

You will be pleased to know that I have finally successfully convinced Mr. Asogi to move into my attic. He brought with him a feline friend, whom he named Kaya. I wonder if that name has some sort of significance you might be aware of? 

 

Anyway, the fellow is much like you described when he first moved in with you. He’s closed off. When he’s home, he mostly stays not only in the attic, but in your (and Susato’s) old room, so no one can barge in on him. Except perhaps Iris. 

 

I have heard rumor that he often goes out to eat with Dr. Gorey and Gina Lestrade for supper just so he doesn’t have to eat with us. I really do hope that I will break down that shell soon. He seemed like a delightful fellow from your descriptions. 

 

He has only been here two weeks, so I must exercise patience.

 

Although I am afraid the reason he moved in is not so pleasant. I would appreciate if you would not mention this to Mr. Asogi, mostly because he seems embarrassed about it. I’m sure he doesn’t want to worry you, either, but I cannot keep it from you.

 

He has been afflicted with epileptic seizures. According to an esteemed epilepsy expert, it was most likely as a result of the accident on the ship. I curse myself for it, Yujin, I really do. If I’d gotten to him sooner, perhaps he wouldn’t have to suffer this ailment. Because of those, I convinced him to move in for his own safety. I feared for him by himself with a condition like that. 

 

I do want to reassure you, however, that he is alright. If I felt as though this condition was overtly dangerous and he was truly unwell, I would encourage you to come drag him back home where he could relax with family and friends. But Asogi assured me that they only happen once every few months, and the doctor said they can be triggered by stress, so van Zieks is cutting down on the amount of work he’s entrusting to him. I’m hopeful that that will decrease the frequency of these episodes.

 

Of course, I will continue to monitor him and do my best to keep him healthy and safe. And I will attempt to make him happy, as well. And if I feel I am not doing any adequate job of any of these things, I will let you know..

 

I wish you the best, 

 

Love, Herlock Sholmes 

I sat my pen aside and leaned back in my chair. I’d dedicated significant thought to whether or not I wanted to tell Yujin about Asogi’s seizures, but even still, I hesitated. Asogi is a grown man, what he discloses about his health should be his own decision. But if it’s something I witnessed, is it right for me to hide it from the man who raised him like a son? I’d kept so many secrets for the past few years, I was getting quite sick of it. Although, I suppose, now I’m simply asking Yujin to keep a large secret. But I feel like he’d rather lie and know the situation than to come visit, say, a year or two from now and witness it for the first time. From the way it was described by both the ladies and Barry, it sounded like something truly shocking to witness. I personally couldn’t even imagine it. So I sealed my note in the envelope and began writing out the addresses when the front door opened. 

 

I could tell it was Asogi without even looking, because his heavy boots paused in front of the door. “Good afternoon, Asogi.”

 

“One would think you had eyes in the back of your head.” He remarked, but unlike usual, he didn’t go straight up to his room. He seemed to linger past what time was required to remove shoes and coat. So I finished up and spun around.

 

He was counting money out of an envelope, very clearly freshly opened. I wondered if he was planning to send money back to the Mikotobas, but I certainly didn’t expect him to approach me with it. 

 

“What is this for?” I asked as he held the bills in my direction with a bowed head.

 

“I’m living in your attic. You deserve compensation for that.”

 

“Pshaw! My dear fellow, I’m the one who insisted you live there in the first place. Keep your money, I don’t want it.” Though I could certainly use it… I thought begrudgingly.

 

He straightened, but I could tell he wasn’t relenting. “It must be costing you to allow me here. I insist you take it.” 

 

“I will do no such thing.” 

 

He groaned, “Well, how can I pay you back, then?!” I resisted the urge to smile. It was funny the way he would drop the proper talk whenever he got flustered. 

 

I looked up to the ceiling to think, my leg bouncing without my input. What is a service he could possibly provide me with? 

 

…

 

Aha! 

 

“Teach me Japanese.” 

 

He raised his eyebrows, and after a pause, asked, “Seriously?” 

 

“I’ve picked up bits and pieces over the years, but I’ve always wanted to learn in case I ever were to travel to your home country to visit my dear Mikotoba. So I insist. You will give me Japanese lessons.” 

 

He put the money back in the envelope and sighed. Clearly that wasn’t the answer he’d wanted. “Alright. I will give you Japanese lessons.” 

~~~~

A few weeks passed, with Asogi giving me lessons twice a week at most, along with homework. He tried to remain professional, but especially when Iris was around, his stern shell would sometimes crack. I was beginning to see bits and pieces of the boy my dearest partner had known. 

 

On this particular evening, I was enthralled in a chemical experiment, as I often was when there were no cases to devote to my attention, when the front door opened with much more force than usual. My eyes left my experiments and saw Mr. Asogi stumbling in, pale-faced, and bleeding from the lip. 

 

“Kazzie, what happened?!” Iris ran up to him as he knelt to take off his shoes, grabbing his face with her tiny little hands to examine him.

He gently swatted her hands away, “Just a little street fight, is all. Nothing serious.”

“‘Just a little street fight?!’ You’re beginning to sound like Hurley.” She chided, then grabbed him by the arm before he could stand up, “Come sit, I’m going to patch you up, and that’s an order.” 

 

I smiled as he followed her orders with no hesitation, although he did look a little disgruntled. “What happened to that saber you used to carry?” I asked. 

 

“Lord Pritchard forbade me from carrying weapons.” He stretched his neck and cringed, “Lord van Zieks said something about asking him to repeal that since I get jumped fairly often, but I suppose he forgot. He gave me a knife, but I have to conceal it, so it’s hard to access quickly.” 

 

“That will not do.” 

 

Iris brought over her medical bag and began her normal treatment regimen. “So what did you do to get into a fight?” 

 

“Exist, I suppose.” He stated sourly, cringing as she dabbed a wet cloth at a cut above his eyebrow. 

 

“I don’t recall Runo and Susie having that much trouble when they stayed here.” She frowned. 

 

“They hardly traveled alone. And besides, Mr. Naruhodo hadn’t yet overthrown the beloved Chief Justice Stronghart, so tensions against the Japanese weren’t as strong then as they are, now.” I interjected. 

 

“That’s just silly.” Iris commented, “It wasn’t their fault that Stronghart was a serial killer.”

 

“It was their fault for exposing it.”

 

The rest of Iris’s treatment was fairly silent as I wrapped up my experimentation work. “Since you were struck in the head, and that’s already a sensitive spot for you, I recommend that you take it easy this weekend.” Iris said with that stern look on her face that she often gave Wagahai before she did something naughty. Or me. 

 

“I have more work to do…” He complained. 

 

“I will tell Mr. Barry himself that you’re on bedrest at doctor’s orders.” I offered up as Iris finally wrapped up and went to the kitchen, likely to make some tea. “Now, Mr. Asogi, I believe you would find great value in the art of boxing.” 

 

His eyebrows creased, much like I recalled his father’s would whenever I would use an unorthodox method in an investigation. “I… don’t understand what boxes have to do with anything…” 

 

At that, I completely lost my composure. I thought my head was going to pop off entirely, I was laughing so hard. “No, no, boxing is a sport.” I explained once I finally had control of my breath again. I demonstrated some of my punches, “A sport where you punch each other until someone passes out.” 

 

“Britain’s sports are very sophisticated.”

 

“Indeed. Now come on, give me a good punch.” 

 

I could very clearly see the gears turning behind his eyes as he stared at me. “You want me to punch you?” 

 

“Of course! I have to see what you’re capable of.” I grabbed him by the shoulders and stood him up, then backed up and pat my stomach with my fist. “Give me your worst.” 

 

“Mr. Sholmes… I couldn’t-” 

 

“Oh, don’t be such a wuss! What are you afraid of?! Come on, give me your best shot.” 

 

His eyes flitted down to my midsection, and back up to my eyes, “Are you sure..?” 

 

“Positive.” 

 

He reared back, and gave me the most pitiful punch I’d ever felt. “You can do better than that!”

“I think Iris would kill me if I hurt you.”

“You’re not going to! I’m a boxing champion! So come on, give me a real punch.” 

 

So, he punched. Hard enough to take my breath and double me over. “Sholmes!” I hit my knees, the pain almost overwhelming, though I couldn’t come up with a single reason as to why. Sure, the fellow was stocky, but he couldn’t have hit me that hard. “I am so sorry-” 

 

“No, no, it’s alright-” I said with a shaking voice, struggling to regain a normal breathing pattern. 

 

“I left the room for 3 minutes, what on Earth happened?!” Iris demanded. I heard the clanking of her tea set being discarded on a surface somewhere in the room. 

 

“I-Mr. Sholmes, uh- he asked me to punch him.”

 

“Hurley! Why would you do such a foolish thing?” She slapped me on the back of the head which did nothing to help my current situation. 

 

“I wanted to- to see how strong- he was.” 

 

“Well, you’ve seen it now.” She sighed, “Did you tell him to aim for the stomach?” I nodded. “Right where your stab wound was less than a year ago?” 

 

Ah. 

 

That explains it. 

~~~~~~~

After a few days of investigation, I decided I would pay Lord Pritchard a visit myself.

 

Pritchard had not done much to make his office any more lively than Stronghart. The big knight statues were moved outside of the room, so at least it didn't feel quite as intimidating as before, though the ticking of the clock accompanied by the light of the moon casting the clock’s shadows into the room did nothing to help the stifling atmosphere.

 

Thankfully, Lord Pritchard did not have nearly the problems of Lord Stronghart when it came to time management, so I waited only a little while before his return. 

 

“Lord Pritchard! I was told you would be here soon.” I rose from his seat to initiate a handshake. 

 

“You must be Mr. Sholmes.” He said. 

 

“The one and only.” 

 

“What business does the one and only Mr. Sholmes have with me?” He asked politely. 

 

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

 

“I’m not keen on favors.”

“I am someone you want on your side, my Lord.” He seemed hesitant. “I’m sure your illegitimate child in America would cause a lot of political tension.” 

 

He was clearly a man of great honor. I had expected some sort of retaliation, but he hardened his jaw and remained professional, “Are you trying to blackmail me, Mr. Sholmes?” I maintained my aloof expression. “You have no evidence of anything of the sort, or else you would’ve shown it to me.” 

 

“What I do have is an excellent reputation. It may not be enough to have merit, say, in a court of law, but in the eyes of the public, well… they’d be intrigued, to say the least.” 

 

“I ought to throw you in jail.” 

 

“You don’t even know what I want yet. Entertain me, it’s not wild.” He glared at me, so I took it as my signal, “You’re aware of foreign exchange student Kazuma Asogi? Of course you are. You will permit him to carry his sword again.” 

 

His face twisted in confusion, “What?” 

 

“Mr. Asogi needs to be able to defend himself. I’ll be teaching him boxing, but when he’s outnumbered, there’s only so much punching he can do.”

He crossed his arms, “What makes you so interested in Mr. Asogi’s ability to ‘protect himself?’”

 

“He submitted a request to change his address. 221B Baker Street. My attic.” He went to his desk and fumbled through the papers, clearly finding the request. “He came home a few evenings ago bloodied and bruised, and I got to thinking, he could really easily end up dead in an alley because somebody wanted him out of our country badly enough.” He chuckled without humor, “Look, my dearest partner left him in my care. I failed him once. I cannot fail him again.” 

 

He thought for a moment, then started to walk towards the door and waved for me to follow, “Are you arresting me?” I asked sardonically. 

 

“We’re going to see what Lord van Zieks thinks of all of this. If he thinks you’re simply being obnoxious, then I will.” 

 

So we traveled to Lord van Zieks’s office, where thankfully, he was still working. He gave us both an incredulous look as we entered. 

 

“How often is Mr. Asogi attacked?” 

 

He looked between the two of us, “Is… he alright?” 

 

“He’s fine. It’s just a question.” He clarified. 

 

“The attacks have actually decreased when we’re together. Even while only one of us is armed, apparently the two of us are intimidating enough. However, by himself… I’ve actually broken up a fight myself that someone picked when they thought no one was around. So I know it happens. And I occasionally see a bruise or a scrape on him, but he’s well covered, so I’m sure I’ve missed some… Why?” 

 

“From the amount you have worked with him, do you believe he is still violent?” 

 

“No more than I.” 

 

He sighed, “Mr. Sholmes raised quite a stink in my office today asking me to arm the boy.” 

 

“Ah. I had actually meant to ask you the same. I suppose it slipped my mind. That is my error.”

 

“Really?” He nodded. “I will consider this. Mr. Sholmes, allow me a word outside.”

 

We stepped outside. He grabbed me by the shoulders without strength, “For something that simple, there need to be no threats, hm? Can we behave like gentlemen next time? Like equals?”

 

“You've demonstrated to me that you deserve to be treated as my equal. Very well, my lord.” 

 

He let me go, shook his head with an exasperated sigh, then walked away.

~~~~~~

Iris had the whole group over the following Friday night. Gina had her English lesson, and afterwards Dr. Gorey came by to pick Gina up, but they ended up sticking around for supper, which was finished just in time for Asogi to come home. So the lot of us ate together, and then played cards after that. The jovial spirit of the evening inspired me to even play a few tunes on the violin.

 

But all good things must come to an end. Gina and Dr. Gorey took their leave, and Asogi retreated up to the attic, seemingly having smiled enough for one day, leaving Iris and I in the drawing room on our lonesome. 

 

I expected her to go back to the typewriter, since she’d been brainstorming ideas for another short story, but instead she headed to her room without another word. Most unlike her. 

 

I tiptoed up to the door and listened. At first, I only heard the sound of her shuffling about her room, likely watering her plants and changing into her evening attire. Just as I was preparing to walk away, I heard the sniffle. It was a quick, short sound that was only ever followed by a hiccup, and then a sob. 

 

I slowly opened her door. “Are you alright, Iris?” 

 

There was a much more wet sniffle than the first one I’d heard, but she didn’t tell me not to come in, so I took that as a sign to do so. She turned her back to me as she sat on her bed, “I’m fine.” 

 

“You know I know that’s not true.” I closed the door behind me, “What’s the matter, dearest? Were the evening’s activities not lively enough for your taste?” 

 

She sighed and turned back around to face me, her poor blue eyes puffy and red already, “They were fine, I just… I miss-” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she was clearly unable to continue her sentence, but it was obvious what she meant to say. I sat down and embraced her as she began to sob, a sound that broke my heart every time I heard it. 

 

“It’s hard to adjust to someone you love leaving.” I started to take down her hair for her. “It’ll take some time before everything feels… alright, again. But it will. Slowly, as the time goes on, it will become an easier burden to bear. It seems you’ve already been doing a little better than you were.” 

 

“But still…”

 

“I know. I’m terribly sorry, dear.” At last, she pulled away from the hug, “Would you like me to play you some music?”

 

She nodded, as she almost always did. 

 

So, I prepared my violin, and I played the softest melodies I could muster until her puffy eyes closed and her breathing evened out. It reminded me of the very first month she graced this flat with her presence. 

 

It had been an incredibly long night, Iris crying every few moments about any little thing under the moon. Yujin theorized she was hungry, since the formula we had was not exactly the top of the line, but we couldn't go out for more until morning. He held her in his arms as he sat in the armchair, rocking her gently and wincing as his shoulder no doubt burned and ached at the tedious movements. 

 

“Do you want me to take her?” I asked for the hundredth time that night. He shook his head. “You're in pain, Miko-”

 

“I deserve it.” His eyes were empty as he stared ahead, his face pale and devoid of any emotion. “This is what I should have been doing 6 years ago, instead of running around playing detective with you.”

 

“Nonsense.” I reached down and plucked Iris from his hands anyway, the girl still crying with a power I wouldn't have given an infant credit for. “You told me yourself that you would've thrown yourself off of a bridge had you remained in Japan. Then your little girl would've grown up an orphan, just like this little one will.” And she seems to know that, too, judging by her crying…

 

“Then I should've been stronger-”

 

“I don't want to hear any more of this abhorrent self-pity, Mikotoba, I really don't.” He sighed and hung his head, "I want you to go up to bed.”

 

“With this wailing and screaming? It's impossible.”

 

I thought for a long, hard moment. “Are you sure she'd hate the sound of my violin?”

 

“At this point, I'd be willing to try anything.”

 

So I put her down in her little makeshift crib, and I plucked the strings, though they weren't nearly loud enough to overpower her lungs. I readied my bow, “Stay on the lower register, Sholmes. The higher notes may hurt her ears.”

 

I nodded and I followed his command. To both of our surprises, it only took a few notes for the wails to calm, replaced by coos of wonder. I couldn't help but smile at both the look of amazement on Iris's face and the look of relief on Yujin's. He leaned back in the chair and shut his eyes, clearly too exhausted to even move from it. Alright, I'll put you both to sleep, just you watch me. 

 

Over the minutes, Iris’s delighted coos declined in regularity, and eventually, she fell silent. Yujin let out a careful sigh of relief, clearly still afraid of offending the small screaming beast. I caught his eyes and gestured with my head towards the stairs. He shook his head. I nodded. “You need rest-” he mouthed.

 

“No.” I mouthed back, “You. To bed. Now.” 

 

He glared at me for a moment, then rubbed his face and carefully stood up. He approached me and whispered, “Thank you.” 

 

I smiled and winked at him, which was met with an eye roll and a smirk. Then, he ascended the stairs, leaving me to entertain our dear little girl. 

 

It was the first time I even briefly considered that I might actually enjoy raising a child. I always thought they were just noisy, messy dependents with no positives whatsoever. But Iris was different. That much was clear. My heart swelled for her every time I got her to stop crying and smile. 

~~~~~~~

The very next day, I stumbled out of my bedroom after noon. I made my coffee and warned my breakfast as normal. I joined the sitting room, where Iris tapped away at her typewriter, completely unaware of my presence. 

 

Just as I was lifting myself from my sleepy stupor, Asogi descended the stairwell. “You’re home?” I asked in surprise. 

 

“It’s Sunday. Lord van Zieks forbade me to come in on Sundays.” He gasped for a quick breath and wiped sweat from his forehead. 

 

Hmm… a sweaty forehead, and out of breath. He descended in his day clothes and his shoes (which is unusual for him), so he wasn’t awoken from a nightmare. Besides, he seems in decent spirits. So what could’ve possibly gotten him so worked up..? 

 

…

 

Aha! 

 

By the time I’d figured it out, Asogi had retrieved a glass of water from the kitchen and sat on one of the many stools in the room, chugging it in a most unceremonious fashion.

“You know you’re welcome to leave anytime for any reason, correct? I’m not your legal guardian.” I eased into the conversation. 

 

He put down the cup and furrowed his brow, “I… don’t catch your meaning.” 

 

“It’s quite simple. Judging by the sweat on your brow and the fact that you’re wearing your shoes indoors, I know exactly what you’ve been up to this morning.” 

 

He looked down and mumbled, “It’s long after lunch, but proceed.” 

 

“You absconded from this premises recently to attend some matter that you wish to keep hidden, hence why you didn’t leave through the front door. No, you scaled the side of the building, and just recently re-entered the very same way! That’s what’s got you in such a horrid state.” 

 

He stared at me for a moment, mouth agape, before he began to laugh. It was the first time I’d heard a real laugh from him. “I was doing my sword training, Mr. Sholmes.” 

 

Oh. No, certainly not. “W-Well, then, what about the shoes?!” 

 

“I feel more stable when I do my legwork in my boots. Truthfully, I’m used to doing it outside, but I haven’t had that privilege as of late.” 

 

“Ah.” 

 

He shook his head and rose to his feet, “Scaled the side of the building…” He muttered to himself incredulously as he retreated to the washroom. 

 

“Another failed deduction, Daddy?” Iris asked over her shoulder. I was surprised she’d even been listening. 

 

“Not at all. I arrived at the truth, didn’t I?” 

 

She sighed and shook her head, then turned back to her typewriter. 

 

Only a moment later, the distinct smell of burning made itself known. “Is that smoke?” I asked Iris. 

 

“You're not getting me with that, this time.”

 

I got up and realized there was, in fact, smoke coming from the kitchen. “Get out of the house!”

 

I ran into the hall, preparing to break the washroom door down to retrieve Asogi, yelling at Iris all the while. “Get out now, it's actually a fire!”

 

Asogi pulled the door open, sans a shirt, “There's a fire?!”

 

“Yes, now go! Make sure Iris and Mrs. Hudson are out!” 

 

“But the cats” Iris protested.

 

“I’ll get them, just go!!” 

 

He hastily made his way out of the hallway and I took a bucket from the corner of the room and began to fill it in the bathroom tap. The smoke was getting thicker. I filled the bucket all the way to the brim and stumbled blindly into the kitchen. I threw water in the direction I saw light, my lungs burning every second I tried to hold my breath, tears running down my cheeks from my stinging eyes. I gasped for air as soon as I made it to the hall, and went back to the washroom for more water. 

 

I remembered it as clear as day now. I made my coffee. I heated my breakfast. As I got it out of the oven, I heard a strange noise upstairs. I was momentarily distracted. I took my breakfast and I left. I never turned off the oven. 

 

This fire is all my fault. 

 

I have to fix it.

 

I took another bucket. I retreated to the washroom coughing and wiping tears and sweat off of my face. I was starting to get tired. 

 

“Sholmes!” Asogi's voice called. 

 

I took in a breath to speak, but all that came out was strangled coughing. My head spun. 

 

I have to fix it. 

 

I heard his footsteps approaching. The bucket was almost full. I'd need to take a breath of what air I could get and make another trip. 

 

Just one more trip. 

 

Asogi took the bucket. I didn't see what he did with it. He returned seconds later and grabbed me by my shoulders. He walked me two steps before my legs seemed to just give out on me. 

 

In a blur of events, I ended up outside, coughing and gasping for air. My head pounded as Asogi put me down on the ground, then turned and ran somewhere. 

 

“Daddy!”

 

Iris was above me. “Can you hear me?” 

 

I shut my still burning eyes and sighed, breathing in the clear air with great relief. “Daddy!”

 

“I am fine.” My throat felt like speaking through gravel. Iris went for my pulse point, the most accessible one being my neck. 

 

“Your pulse seems strong. Open your eyes for me.” 

 

“My head hurts.” I complained. 

 

“It won't take long.” She insisted. I followed her command, squinting into the overwhelming London overcast sunlight. She held up a finger, “Follow my finger with your eyes, alright?”

 

Mikotoba had me do this hundreds of times. 

 

I followed her finger apparently to her satisfaction, and then decided I might as well just get up. I'd gotten dangerously close to passing out (at least, I think I didn't pass out,) and I didn't want to risk it in front of Iris. I pushed myself into a sitting position, watching as the fire brigade arrived and readied their equipment.

 

A civilian carriage rattled up to the street, and before it could even come to a halt, the door opened and van Zieks jumped out. 

 

How did he get wind of this? 

 

His eyes left the smoke and searched the street, where he found us without delay. “Is everyone alright?!”

 

How did you catch wind so fast?

 

“We're all fine.” I croaked out.

 

His eyes scanned the small crowd that had developed, “Where is Asogi?!” He demanded. 

 

Oh good god, where is Asogi?

 

“He must have gone back in for the cats.” Iris realized. 

 

“That damned fool!” Van Zieks stormed into the building without a moment's delay, ignoring the fire brigades shouting to stay back.

 

I left the cats to die. I let Asogi run back into a fire to try to rescue them.

 

I can’t let him get hurt. 

 

I gathered myself up and ran in behind him before Iris could stop me. I covered my face with my shirt and listened for sound. I ended up in the attic. The smoke was very thick here, but the windows had been thrown open, allowing it to escape quickly. The only place the two gentleman could be, given that they did not decide to commit suicide jumping from a window, was in Asogi’s bedroom, where I found less smoke than the main room thanks to the closed door and both gentlemen kneeling in front of Asogi's bed. It appeared Asogi had grabbed his cloak on the way in, because now at least he wasn’t shirtless. 

 

“They're huddling under the bed. We can't get them to come out.” Asogi explained, “I’m worried we’ll have to leave them behind.” 

 

Without a word, I grabbed Asogi’s sword that was sitting by his bedside and handed it to van Zieks, still in its sheath. “I want you to prod at them with this and hopefully they'll run out. Asogi will catch Kaya, I will catch Waggy.”

 

I readied myself on the ground near the opening. “Are we in position?” Van Zieks asked. 

 

“We're ready.”

 

Thankfully, the cat rescue mission went without a hitch. We caught them, van Zieks opened the door for us and ushered us out, but before we could make it to the front door, I remembered something. I held Waggy up to van Zieks, who took her with confusion, and stormed back into the smoke. 

 

I first went to Iris's bedroom, where I retrieved her bag with her beloved communicators. I ignored my body's signals to leave and went to the drawing room, where I retrieved her current manuscript and her notes and stuffed them in the bag. There's something else… I know there's something else… 

 

The photographs. 

 

I went to the mantle, where I retrieved both photographs we'd taken with our Japanese companions. My head swam as I stumbled to the door, the corners of my vision turning black. If I can get to the door I can make it. 

 

…

~~~~~~

Consciousness graced me with the most agonizing, blinding pain in my head that I had ever felt. I clutched it and groaned, my stomach beginning to churn. It seemed I was in a bed somewhere, but there was no chance I was opening my eyes to gather more data. I craned to the side, hopefully off of the bed, retching up what only could’ve been acid, the action only intensifying the pain. I fell backwards onto the stiff cushions with a loader groan and writhed. I could hear someone in the room but I could not even try to comprehend what they were saying or doing. The pain took up all of my focus. 

 

Someone grabbed my arm, trying to pry it off of my head. I resisted it. 

 

“Do as the doctor says, Sholmes. He wants to help you, for God's sake.” Van Zieks's voice boomed through the haze. I finally allowed it. My arm was laid to my side, where I felt an all too familiar pinch, and within moments, the pain took a step back. 

 

I lay unmoving as someone dabbed at the corners of my mouth, and then rolled me onto my side. Someone was lingering on my opposite side, likely cleaning the mess I'd made. Only once the footsteps left did I decide to open my eyes. 

 

Van Zieks was still here, sitting beside me with that same scowl he always had. “I should kill you, myself, for what you did today.” I smiled. “You could have died, Sholmes! Don't grin at me.”

 

“But I didn't.”

 

“No, but you scared Iris half to death.” He exhaled sharply, “Why did you decide to go back then?”

 

“I realized how serious it was.” The pain was almost completely suppressed. I heard my words beginning to slur together. “I couldn't let those things burn. They can't be replaced.”

 

“Do you know what else can't be replaced?” I raised an eyebrow. “You. Never do something that stupid again.” My eyes were too heavy. I shut them. “You're not getting out of this conversation that eas-”

 

I did get out of that conversation that easily. I awoke many hours later to Iris by my bedside, who immediately began to smack me. “Ow!” 

 

“Bad Hurley! Very bad Hurley!!!”

“Iris, that hurts!” 

 

“Iris.” Asogi tapped her shoulder firmly, and she seemed to finally have her anger out. 

 

“Never do that again!” In spite of her anger, I opened my arm for her and she gave me a very tight hug. 

 

“I’m sorry, Iris.” Once she finally let go, I pushed myself up. My head wasn’t hurting anymore, although it did swim a little at my movements. I’m still under the influence of something. 

 

“Have you heard about the house? What was the damage? Did Mrs. Hudson make it out alright?” 

 

“Mrs. Hudson was not home, so everyone is alright.” Asogi reassured me, “Unfortunately, the kitchen is completely ruined. Along with the wall to your bedroom and the ceiling and floor of the attic. The downstairs was completely untouched, so Mrs. Hudson can go back home, but the brigade deemed our flat to be too unstable to live in until repaired. They said we can come in and collect our things, but the attic is completely off limits.”

 

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, “Daddy, where do you think you’re going?” 

 

“I’m going to collect our things, what else?” 

 

Her and Asogi shared a look of concern, “I don’t know if you should be up and about.” Iris said. 

 

“I’ll be fine, I’m sure.” I stood and immediately stumbled. Asogi, however, had anticipated my miscalculation and helped to steady me. “Thank you, my dear fellow! Now, let us be off!” 

 

Much to my dismay, Iris insisted upon going to the chemist to fill my prescription for morphine for my supposed headache, in spite of the fact that it was non-existent. But I knew better than to argue with Iris, so I put my hands up in surrender. 

 

Upon our arrival to Baker Street, I once again required the help of our dear flatmate to steady myself after the dizzying movement of the carriage before we headed inside. 

 

The drawing room appeared to be entirely unscathed. The kitchen, however, was as Asogi had surmised; entirely destroyed. “I’m assuming the fireman turned off the stove?” I observed. 

 

Asogi looked to Iris, “Did they? I don’t recall them saying they did. Is that what started the fire?” 

 

“I put my breakfast in and forgot about it.” I opened the oven, to my surprise, seeing my food just as I had left it. 

 

“This didn’t start the fire!” I exclaimed, momentarily happy that it wasn’t my fault. 

 

“Then what did..?” Iris interjected. 

 

She had a good point. If it wasn’t the oven, how did it happen? Because it clearly began in this kitchen. 

 

But there were no clues. Everything was charred and I was getting lightheaded from leaning down at the floor trying to inspect it. 

 

“Maybe the eye got turned on? Or malfunctioned?” Iris suggested, “We won’t find anything just standing here.” Iris went to her bedroom to collect her things, so Asogi and I gave up and went to mine. 

 

“I don't need supervising, go on up and get your things, my dear man.” I assured him. 

 

“The attic is off-limits for now. Remember?”

 

“Oh. I suppose you mentioned something like that.” 

 

As he had said, the part of my bedroom wall that met the kitchen was thoroughly burned, although remnants still remained. 

 

“It's a wonder your whole room didn't go up in flames with all this mess lying around.” Asogi commented, doing his best not to step on a pair of discarded clothes on the floor with his foot. 

 

My bed had caught fire, as well, so now, not only was the mattress missing a chunk, it was also sopping wet from the fire brigade. 

 

“They're planning to throw it out eventually.” Asogi read my mind, “Lord van Zieks said he would replace your bed with one from one of his guest rooms once we return home.” 

 

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be booking a hotel room instead of standing here watching me?” 

 

He sighed. I was clearly beginning to wear down his patience, “No, because Lord van Zieks is going to house us. Our cats are already there, locked in a cage together until we can come back to supervise them.” 

 

“That’s uncharacteristically kind.” 

 

“I can’t think of a single reason why.” Asogi replied dryly, his tone controlled enough to not draw the suspicion of Iris were she to overhear. 

~~~~~~

Iris was overwhelmed by the size of van Zieks’s estate. She had never been in a building this large, and was reeling to grasp the size of it as a home. “It must be nice to have all this free space.” She commented to van Zieks, who shrugged slightly. 

 

We were all set up in rooms right next to each other and on the same hall as van Zieks’s bedroom, in case an emergency arose in the middle of the night. The day went by quickly, as my headache returned and I remained in bed for a majority of it. Begrudgingly, I went downstairs for supper, but left the group to go back upstairs for the evening. By the time I awoke again, the manor was quiet, my headache was gone, and I was bored. I roamed the dark halls for a while, searching for something, anything of interest, until I ended up in his private study. He had many books about law and whatnot, and a few of science. I noticed, however, that a section by itself seemed to be just novels, the genre of which I would never imagine Barok van Zieks to peruse. Mostly romance, although there were some drama ones snuck in there. I picked up one of the drama ones and carried it back to my room to keep me company on this long night. 

 

I’d lost track of time when I heard the most peculiar sound. An out of tune piano. It was faint from where I was, but it was certainly the downstairs piano. One note rang out, a note that was supposed to be G if I wasn’t mistaken, then stopped for a moment. Then another. 

 

Just to be absolutely safe, I grabbed my pistol and crept down the stairwell. Through the arches to the music room, I saw Iris sitting at the piano, playing with it. Her feet were too short to even reach the pedals. 

 

Van Zieks used to play! 

 

I went back up the stairs as quietly as I could, pocketing my pistol now that it was no longer needed, and simply barged into van Zieks’s room. He was lying on his stomach, his arm half hanging off the bed, completely unaware of my presence. I left the door open and approached him to wake him up, but my footsteps must’ve beaten me to it, because he reached for the sword by his bed and jerked up. “Shh!” I commanded.

 

The blind panic in his eyes changed to irritation as he put the sword down. “What the hell are you-” 

 

I grabbed his mouth to make him stop talking and he pushed it away, though he listened now. The sound of the piano was even fainter from his room, but it was audible. “It’s Iris.” I explained. 

 

“Did you have to impose upon me in such an inappropriate manner because Iris is playing with the piano?” 

 

“This is the perfect opportunity for you to bond with her. Offer her lessons!” 

 

“Sholmes, I haven’t touched that piano in probably 10 years-” 

 

“You don’t forget something like that easily. Come on, I’d really love for her to inherit my love for music.” 

 

“Yours? Not mine or Alina's or-?” He stopped himself before he could say the name. 

 

“Mine.” I confirmed. 

 

He grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, “Fine. I will go speak to her.” 

 

So he got up, wrapped a dressing gown around himself, and descended the stairs. I sat about halfway down the stairs, myself, so I was out of sight, and listened in. 

 

“Oh, no! I should’ve known the piano was too loud.” She scolded herself. 

 

“I was already up and I happened to hear it from the hall.” He lied, “Are you interested in piano?” 

 

“Maybe.” She said disheartenedly. “I feel like I’m not doing it right somehow. It sounds off.” 

 

“It’s out of tune. If it were tuned, it would sound much better.” 

 

“I suppose that makes sense.” 

 

There was a lull where Iris seemingly played a little more with the keys, though she clearly felt awkward. “What are you doing roaming around at this hour?” He asked. 

 

“Nothing.” She lied. I could tell by the tone of her voice something was wrong. After a beat, she said, “Don’t glare at me like that.” 

 

“I didn’t mean to glare. My apologies.” 

 

“That’s alright.” Another pause, “The truth is, I’m sad about my kitchen. All my utensils…All my herbs…” 

 

Curse you, Herlock Sholmes!!! How could you not have realized?!

 

I did my best not to completely beat myself up so I could still listen.

 

She sniffled a few times. Van Zieks was certainly out of his depth in this situation. I wondered what my strategy should be to introduce myself into the situation to comfort her when he spoke up. “It is difficult to lose something you care about so deeply. I’m sorry.” She sniffled again. “I have to take Mr. Asogi to buy some new clothes after work tomorrow. Would you… like to come get some more kitchenware?”

 

“No! I could never pay you back.” 

 

“Do you see the size of this house? I can afford to buy some kitchenware.”

 

“You would really do that for me?” She sounded a little suspicious. Tread carefully here, Barry.

 

“Of course. After the kind presents you've given me, I have some catching up to do.” It was quiet for a moment, “Would you… like some tea or something?”

 

“Do you actually know how to make it?” 

 

“...It cannot be all that difficult.” 

 

She chuckled, the sound thick from the tears she’d likely just shed, “Well, how about we do it together?” 

 

I crept back up the stairs, worried about being spotted from this distance as they went to the kitchen. I could no longer hear them, but it seemed as though Iris’s spirits were in the process of being lifted, so I went back to my room with a heavy silence hanging around me. 

 

I could not help but replay their exchange over and over in my head, alongside the comments Iris made about how extravagant and nice a place this must be to live. 

 

How would Iris feel if she knew I’d kept this sort of life from her? Would she feel betrayed that I forced her to live in what is comparatively squalor at Baker Street instead of living here luxuriously? 

 

Would she move immediately in here and never speak to me again? 

 

They were questions that would haunt me for a long time. 

Notes:

Blackmail, housefire, hospital visit associated with house fire, also a little bit of vomiting but it's not really described it's just something that happens and they move on.

I have two terrible ailments when it comes to writing as a hobby: ADHD and being employed. I am so sorry lmao I am such a slow writer but I'm trying I swear!!! Look a lot happens in this chapter and in the chapters to come so gimme a break

I hope it was enjoyable!