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Kazuma’s pride is his defining feature and, much to his dismay, it is wounded beyond repair on the day of that accursed speech contest.

He is a top student at Yumei, a promising budding lawyer. There isn’t a person in the university, scholars and professors alike, who doesn’t know his name. He is the very face of success, and everyone looks to him as the paragon of what a Yumei student should be.

And yet his fatal flaw has been so pathetically revealed for all to see.

More than that, though, Kazuma finds his frustration aimed at his competitor, the man who stripped him of his rightful title of greatest speaker. One Ryunosuke Naruhodo, he recalls. His speech was mediocre at best. Kazuma’s had been carefully thought out, intricately formulated, and made every point as flawlessly as it could be made. Naruhodo’s speech, on the other hand, had been unremarkable by all accounts. 

And yet, it wasn’t unremarkable in the least. Naruhodo somehow spoke in a way that was hypnotic, winning over everyone with some kind of natural charm. Kazuma had felt the way the room had shifted as he spoke, the audience hanging onto his every word. Yes, even Kazuma himself has fallen under his spell.

But of course, being the person he is, Kazuma does not quite register that emotion factors into things like this. So instead he fixates on the one thing he noticed with certainty his opponent had him beat on. As he exits into the lobby, he finds himself, as always, driven by the passion he feels in the moment.

“Ryunosuke Naruhodo.”

The boy jolts and turns around, clearly having not expected to be approached by his opponent, and certainly not with such… gusto . “Ah…Asogi. Congratulations on your speech!”

He sounds genuine, despite his clear intimidation. But his words feel like mockery to Kazuma.

“Why are you congratulating me? I lost to you.”

There’s an intensity to his tone that only serves to make Naruhodo even more visibly nervous. Before he can think of how to respond, Kazuma speaks again.

“How is it that you never trip up on your words?”

Now Naruhodo’s fearful expression shifts to confusion - then to understanding, with a hint of cheekiness. He’s quite easy to read, Kazuma notices.

“Speaking fast is my hobby,” he responds with a lopsided grin.

Kazuma furrows his brow. “What kind of a hobby is that?”

“Like tongue twisters. You know tongue twisters, right?”

“Tongue twisters,” Kazuma repeats dryly.

He is not prepared for the floodgate he has opened. Naruhodo’s eyes light up. All his trepidation is gone, replaced with some sort of passive fervor. 

“Swift samurai swords swipe silently sideways, or Sally sells seashells on the seashore, or red leather, yellow leather…”

He continues for a while, talking at his competitor a mile a minute, and for the first time in his life, Kazuma finds himself shocked speechless. Naruhodo notices his reaction, and stops himself.

“You should try one. It’s a great way to practice speaking.”

“Teach me one, then,” Kazuma responds, without missing a beat.

“Hmm…” Naruhodo considers for a moment. “Here, try this one: Red bread pan, lead bread pan, dead bread man.”

He talks so fast, Kazuma can barely register what he’s said. How does he do that, really?

“Red bed- no, bre- bread- red head- ARRRRRGH!”

Naruhodo can’t help but let out a laugh at Kazuma’s frustration. He covers his mouth quickly, but his eyes still quirk in an amused way. It makes Kazuma’s stomach twist in some sick combination of embarrassment and endearment.

“I’ll practice. I’ll master the art of tongue twisters,” Kazuma mutters. “I’ll best you one day.”

“I’m sure you will,” Naruhodo responds with a nod. “Wanna get lunch?”

Kazuma takes to wearing the red hachimaki not long after this first fateful encounter. It reminds him of his loss, and his desire to work harder and improve himself. There’s something deeper than that, though, a feeling he can’t quite put a name to. Something inside him shifted after meeting Naruhodo, beyond just his pride. He wants to carry a part of that with him, somehow. So he dons the passionate red.

“Really, you still haven’t finished yet?”

Kazuma peers at his best friend’s paper, leaning his arm on his shoulder. Ryunosuke just pushes him away playfully.

“I would’ve if you’d stop distracting me.”

“Surely my presence can’t possibly be more interesting than this fascinating busywork,” he replies with a smirk.

“Please just be patient, Kazuma.”

Ryunosuke is not sure when the two of them fell onto a first-name basis, but it just feels natural, as though they’ve known each other for their whole lives as opposed to just a few months.

Kazuma resigns himself to pulling up a chair next to Ryunosuke, resting his chin firmly on his partner’s shoulder to keep reading his work. This is not unusual for the two of them. Kazuma barely has a sense of personal space - not that Ryunosuke necessarily minds the closeness. He continues writing, doing his best to ignore Kazuma’s hair tickling his cheek.

“You spelled that word wrong,” Kazuma points out.

Ryunosuke’s face burns. “...Right. Thanks.”

“You ought to have known that one, Ryunosuke.” Kazuma jabs him from behind to emphasize his point.

“We can’t all be star students,” Ryunosuke grumbles, correcting his mistake, acutely aware of Kazuma’s hand now resting on his back.

“The sooner you finish, the sooner we can go out for hotpot,” he hums directly into Ryunosuke’s ear. His hand has moved upward from Ryunosuke's back, and now his arm leans fully on his friend’s shoulder.

“The sooner you quiet down, the sooner I can finish my work,” Ryunosuke mutters in response, trying to flag down the train of thought that Kazuma has thoroughly derailed. 

Kazuma presumably concedes, and it’s quiet for the next few minutes, only the sounds of pencil scratching paper filling the room.

“Finished,” he finally announces, and he turns his head slightly to meet Kazuma’s eyes. 

Their faces are so very close in this position. There’s a strange electricity in the air, and Ryunosuke suddenly feels very warm.

The moment is dashed as Kazuma rises with a devilish grin, grabbing Ryunosuke by the arm. “Then we’re off!”

“Kazuma…! At least let me grab my things first…!”

There are many moments like this, Ryunosuke notices, where the energy of the room seems to shift, and the world around him and his partner seems to fade away. Ryunosuke’s never had a friend like this before. It’s unprecedented territory. It drives him to act in ways he never imagined he would.

Yes, Kazuma certainly drives him to act in unprecedented ways, Ryunosuke decides, and he’s never sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but today, it has somehow led to him seated upon the S.S. Burya, London-bound. How could he refuse, when Kazuma asked him so genuinely to join him on his voyage, with such utter belief in him? How could he say no to studying together in an exciting new land? A future alongside Kazuma just seems so much brighter.

“How are you feeling now?” Kazuma asks, tilting his head.

“Sore,” Ryunosuke whines, rubbing his bruised hip. “Shouldn’t a ship’s crew be more careful with passengers’ precious belongings?”

“Well, they didn’t know just how precious my belongings were,” Kazuma raises. 

The phrasing makes Ryunosuke smile slightly, before his pain drops his expression again. “Sorry about stealing half your meal. We’re both going to be starved for a while.”

Kazuma bumps their legs together. “I brought you here, didn’t I? I don’t mind going a bit hungry if it means we’ll arrive in England together.”

“Well, yes, but…such a long trip to be a bit hungry for…”

“Adventure always takes a little sacrifice, Ryunosuke! Have some guts!”

I used up all my guts just getting tossed around, Ryunosuke thinks to himself.

“Curling up in a ball hardly takes any guts.”

“Says the guy who didn’t have to be in the suitcase. And quit reading my mind, will you?”

“How about you quit muttering under your breath?” Kazuma’s cocky smile slips as his eyes fall on the clock. “Ah. It’s getting to be time to turn in for the night, I believe.”

"I guess it's back to the wardrobe for me, then," Ryunosuke sighs in response, glancing solemnly at his disconsolate hiding spot. 

Kazuma furrows his brow. "Nonsense. You can just share the bed with me."

Ryunosuke hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"What’s the problem? It's not like we haven't slept together before."

He really has an issue with phrasing, this one, Ryunosuke thinks to himself as his cheeks flush. "I mean, wouldn't I get caught?"

"Who's going to enter my room during the night? Besides, these doors lock."

Ryunosuke glances at the door, then back at Kazuma, then relaxes. "Alright, you make a good argument."

"That's my job, isn't it?" his partner laughs, rising and patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just do as I say, and we won’t get caught.”

Ryunosuke finds himself drifting awake at some odd hour of the night. The two boys seem to have shifted in their sleep - Kazuma’s arm is wrapped comfortably around his friend, and their legs are practically intertwined. Ryunosuke sighs contentedly, melting into the embrace, resting his head by Kazuma’s chest.

His eyes flick awake, however, as he becomes aware of the sound of knocking.

We’re going to get caught. They’re going to send me to jail, and take Kazuma off the study tour.

The panic wakes him from whatever drowsiness had remained. Quickly, he tries to shake his friend awake. “ Kazuma! ”

Kazuma stirs, blinking blearily, but as soon as the knock rings out again, his expression sobers and he sits up quickly. “ Into the wardrobe, ” he urges, stumbling to his feet.

Ryunosuke hurriedly obliges. He hears the sound of Kazuma hastily hanging the “keep out” sign, then quickly answering the door.

Though muffled, he can hear Kazuma speak. “Ah. Hello.”

“Good evening, Kazuma-sama,” says a voice that, despite his sleepiness and the muted nature of the conversation, Ryunosuke recognizes as Judicial Assistant Mikotoba. “You took an awful long time to answer the door. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I’m quite fine. I was fast asleep, you see.”

“Oh, my apologies! I suppose I assumed with this being our first night on board, you’d be up later than usual. I just wanted to see how you were faring…”

The conversation blurs as Ryunosuke feels himself beginning to nod off inside the wardrobe. What feels like moments later, the wardrobe door swings open, and Ryunosuke startles. It’s just Kazuma, of course. The two just look at each other for a bit.

Kazuma is the first to eventually speak. “You’re safe to come out now, you know.”

“Am I?” he responds foggily.

“Hm? Of course.”

Ryunosuke hugs his knees to his chest. He thinks about how he woke up, curled up in Kazuma’s warmth, watching his even breaths, more comforted than he’d ever felt before. And he also thinks about how, if he were to be discovered, Kazuma would surely be punished for stowing him away, and lose his dream of traveling to England. He feels a conflicted feeling quite like he felt when he was on trial. So of course, he knows what choice he must make.

“I think it’s better if I just sleep in here.”

Kazuma blinks. “Ryunosuke, you didn’t get caught. She wasn’t even suspicious.”

“I’d just rather be safe.” He lowers his head, finding it hard to meet Kazuma’s gaze. “So neither of us get in trouble.”

Kazuma crosses his arms. “It can’t be comfortable in there.”

“It’s no worse than spending a day being tossed around like cargo.”

Kazuma sighs. “If you’re willing to subject yourself to that, then fine. But I promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I? So there’s nothing to worry about. As long as you trust me, that is.”

The implication makes Ryunosuke’s heart twist. “You know I do.”

“Then it’s settled. Though, why you’d actively choose to spend your nights in such a cramped space is beyond me.”

Ryunosuke gives a weak smile. “Goodnight, Kazuma.”

Kazuma meets his gaze with softened eyes. “Goodnight, my partner.”

And he shuts the wardrobe door.

“You know, you’ve been living in a wardrobe for two weeks now,” Kazuma comments, moving his bishop. “I’m surprised your spine hasn’t curled up yet.”

“Shut it,” Ryunosuke responds, eyes darting around the shogi board. “I think you just won.”

“I won three rounds ago, actually. I was waiting for you to notice.”

“Wh- really?!”

Kazuma laughs loudly, and Ryunosuke pelts him with a Golden General in response.

“Quiet down,” Kazuma says through his laughter, “you’ll be heard.”

“You’re far louder than I am,” Ryunosuke huffs, dragging his chair to Kazuma’s side of the table as he begins to clean up the game.

“That makes eight wins for me, right?” Kazuma asks with a boastful grin.

“And three for me!” Ryunosuke reminds him, taking a seat by his side. “You’re not infallible.”

“But I’m victorious today,” Kazuma responds, leaning forward.

“I suppose ,” Ryunosuke hums.

They fall into a comfortable silence, and Ryunosuke feels the phenomenon happen again, where the air feels electric and it feels like he and Kazuma are all that exists in the world. It’s been happening a lot lately, and Ryunosuke isn’t sure what to do with himself during those moments. It’s wrong to say he doesn’t understand his feelings, at this point, because he has inklings, but he doesn’t dare consider them. But now Kazuma is gazing at him intensely, and for once Ryunosuke wonders what would happen if he followed where his emotions led him. 

Their eye contact is broken as they both glance down at the other’s lips.

Ryunosuke can hear his own heartbeat.

It occurs to him that Kazuma is slowly moving closer, and it occurs to him that he very much wants him to. He feels a warm, calloused hand on his cheek, and his eyes fall gently shut.

It is not so much a kiss as a brushing of lips. It is soft, short, and experimental, and it is decidedly cautious. It is warm - not necessarily in the sense of heat (though Ryunosuke does feel quite flushed), but in the sense of joy and of care.

Kazuma withdraws, and Ryunosuke’s eyes flutter open. The two look at each other, uncertain and anticipating and healthily awestruck.

Neither gets a chance to say anything, however, as they are met by an exceedingly poorly-timed knock, breaking them out of the trance.

“Wardrobe,” Ryunosuke manages to say, and Kazuma nods as his friend scrambles into his hiding place.

“Dinner,” he hears a gruff voice say, and he silently curses himself for not noticing that the clock had turned to six. He hears movement, but now that the panic has faded, his mind jumps back to what just happened.

He gently traces his fingers over his mouth, and wonders if it’s possible he imagined it all. But his lips still tingle, and he recalls the sensation so vividly, so that surely must mean it was real. He wonders what it means, and he wonders if it will ever happen again.

The wardrobe door swings open, cutting off his musings.

“They served chicken tonight,” Kazuma informs him, with visible disdain. “You can have all of it, of course.”

Ryunosuke wonders if he ought to bring up the kiss, but instead, the words that fall out of his mouth are, “It’s bad to skip meals, Kazuma.”

His friend subtly rolls his eyes. “I’ll survive one night. The table’s set for you.”

With that, he sits himself at his desk and begins writing something.

Ryunosuke lingers for a moment, as though waiting for Kazuma to turn back or say something else, but his friend seems to get roped into his writing rather quickly, so he hops out of the wardrobe and seats himself at the dinner table.

The chicken is not great. There’s strange lumps in it. Normally the S.S. Burya has better meals than this, but he supposes as a stowaway, he has no right to complain.

As he finishes the dismal meal, he glances over at Kazuma, who is still intently focused on his writing. Ryunosuke has always enjoyed watching him work. His focused expression is serious yet relaxed at the same time, his piercing eyes flitting around his paper. It’s soothing to watch. In fact, in this moment, Ryunosuke feels almost lulled by it.

He blinks. Then yawns. Then lays his arm on the table and rests his head, watching Kazuma through his half-lidded eyes.

“Ryunosuke,” Kazuma says, setting down his pen, “I have something to say to you.”

He turns around to find his friend fast asleep on the dining table, snoring peacefully. He bites back a chuckle.

He approaches cautiously, then gently shakes his friend’s shoulder. “Ryunosuke,” he whispers, “wake up.”

No response. Kazuma purses his lips, and shakes him less gently.

“Ryunosuke, this is rather poor table manners.”

Still no response. He seems to be in a stupendously deep sleep.

“Really, Ryunosuke, are you going to make me carry you to the wardrobe?” he chides softly, but there’s a fond smile on his face.

Still no response. This unfortunately means the answer is yes. Luckily, this is not Kazuma’s first rodeo. Ryunosuke has studied himself to sleep plenty of times.

Carefully, Kazuma slides one arm under Ryunosuke’s legs, and another around his back, and swiftly lifts him in a bridal carry.

“You’re lucky I’m strong enough to carry you,” he hums to his comatose friend as he opens the wardrobe with one finger, “though I suppose I wouldn’t be a very good partner if I wasn’t.”

He gently places him into his hiding spot, propping him up so his limbs won’t spill out.

“I guess our talk will have to wait for tomorrow,” he murmurs, brushing his hand against his friend’s cheek. “Sweet dreams…Ryunosuke.”

He closes the door, and hangs the sign, and realizes he won’t be sleeping a wink tonight.

Getting caught is bad enough, but Ryunosuke can’t think straight with the way his head is utterly swimming. Still, he decided his course of action ages ago - admit to everything, and deny Kazuma’s involvement in his stowing away. It should be easy to believe, provided Kazuma hasn’t already told them the truth.

But Susato’s sober expression and words jar him. “There's only one thing I'd like to know from you.”

He’ll answer anything she asks, of course. Is she upset she wasn’t told about the plan? Perhaps that means Kazuma’s already told her everything.

“Why did you do it? Why did you take his life?”

“M-Miss Susato!” Her seriousness is startling to him.

Then it occurs to him what she’s said.

“Wait, what did you just say? 'Take...his life'...?”

Susato is silent. She does not meet his eyes.

It can’t be what he’s thinking.

Ryunosuke’s plans fall succinctly out of his mind. They are replaced by monumental fear.

“Um...Where, where is he? Where's Kazuma?”

Because it surely can’t be what he’s thinking.

“Kazuma-sama was…” She takes a shaky breath. “Kazuma-sama's body was discovered not long ago.”

No.

It can’t be. She can’t have just said that.

A horrible wave of grief washes over Ryunosuke, and he feels his legs begin to buckle under him. The accusations continue around him, and he is aware of the fact that he is speaking too, but he barely acknowledges the words he’s saying, and reality feels so foggy and far away. He feels the overwhelming urge to vomit, to scratch at his cheeks, to gouge his eyes out, to tear apart the veil of this world that cannot possibly be reality, because there is just no way that his best friend, his partner, is dead .

And oh, all the unnamed feelings that have been swirling about inside him over the past year finally have a name to them, or even more than just a name, but dozens and hundreds of words, but they’ve come up all too late, never to be spoken. This just can’t be reality. He really feels the need to retch.

When the dancing colors have cleared from his vision, and his breathing has become something resembling normal again, the sailors are shouting accusations at him, and it occurs to Ryunosuke that the only way to get through this right now is to put the bulk of his grief on hold and find out who really did this. To clear his name, and to avenge Kazuma.

To avenge him. He shouldn’t need avenging. He should be here .

But he isn’t. So Ryunosuke must, for now, move forward. Without him.

It’s all over.

The room is far too empty without Kazuma. It feels like too much space for just Ryunosuke, which is quite funny, since it was never a room intended for two people in the first place.

It’s quiet, too. Empty and quiet and wrong.

He feels tears begin to stream down his cheeks.

Ah. There it is , he thinks to himself, wiping them away, though more just take their place. It’s beginning to sink in, isn’t it?

Never again will he be in the presence of Kazuma. They will never get to tear up the streets of Her Majesty’s City together, like they so joyfully planned.

Kazuma had so many goals he’ll never get to meet. So many goals he hadn’t gotten to explain. How can Ryunosuke carry on his dreams, when he barely understands them? He feels unworthy of Kazuma’s legacy.

His hand falls to his side. Karuma , the great blade of the Asogi clan.

Kazuma’s soul , as he always said. The thought gives Ryunosuke comfort.

He thinks about what Susato said - that she believes Kazuma would’ve wanted him to have had it. His family heirloom, and he would’ve trusted Ryunosuke with it. And Ryunosuke knows Susato meant her words well beyond that - that Kazuma would’ve trusted Ryunosuke to carry on his dreams, as well.

He lays on the bed, holding Karuma in his vision.

“You always did believe in me, didn’t you? I never knew why, sometimes, but you always did.”

Karuma does not respond.

“You were always so prideful, you know. You never listened when I told you, you’d always be first choice to me. I meant it. And it’s nice to know I was yours, too.” 

He closes his eyes, lowering Karuma to rest on his chest.

“When you trust me like that…how could I refuse?”

He falls asleep holding Karuma tight.

Months pass by in a blur. Ryunosuke is living a true English adventure. He only wishes Kazuma had gotten to live it, too.

“I want my next story to appeal to wider audiences,” Iris mentions, serving a fresh platter of biscuits and retaking her seat at the dinner table, “but I’m not sure how to go about something like that.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Susato asks.

“Well, Randst Magazine has informed me that my audience is severely lacking in young women.”

“But that can’t be right! I’m a young woman, and I adore every single one of your stories!”

“I don’t think your tastes are particularly typical for your demographic, Miss Susato,” Ryunosuke raises.

Iris lets out a little hmph, then turns to Gina, who’s currently piling sweet after sweet onto her dish with a disturbing glee. When she notices the others are looking at her, she turns pink and stops. 

“What about you, Ginny?” Iris asks her, before the diver has a chance to go on the defensive. “You’re a young lady too. What sort of stories do you like?”

“Well, I can’t bloody well read, can I?” Gina scoffs, then strokes her chin in thought. “But I s’pose if your stories are anyfin’ like your inventions, I’d like ‘em just fine as is. Lotsa action an’ adventure.”

“I suppose it’s hard to get a general opinion when you surround yourself with people similar to yourself,” Susato muses.

“I did ask around a bit, of course,” Iris mentions, leaning back in her chair. “The general consensus was that young women like stories with romance.” She shakes her head. “But I only like to write based on Hurley’s real adventures.”

“An’ I doubt that cove’s got anyone pinin’ after ‘im!” Gina cackles.

Everyone glances across the room at Sholmes, who’s been fervently playing his violin through their whole conversation. He’s a talented player, of course, but he seems to be improvising the song on the fly, so there’s lots of odd melodic jumps as he bounces around, following his usual eccentric whims. He’s so absorbed, in fact, he doesn’t even realize the others haven’t been paying attention to his little concert.

Good. Ryunosuke doesn’t need to hear another monologue about his desperate loneliness.

Iris’s eyes are sympathetically fixed on her flatmate, before she eventually turns back to the table. “Perhaps I could write a romance between other characters. Like a mystery revolving around a secret love affair.”

“Oh, what a grand idea!” Susato exclaims. “It’d be wonderful to read such a thing written by you.”

Iris lights up at the praise, but quickly deflates again. “It’s a nice idea, but I’m not quite sure I know how to write romance. I’ve never been around it, you see.”

“Ah...” The table falls silent, the sounds of Sholmes’s cacophonous song filling the room. It's uncomfortable for a moment, as everyone realizes that none of them have parents to cite as a grand romance .

“What about you, Runo?” Iris suddenly speaks up, leaning towards him.

“H-huh? What about me?”

“Hey, she’s go’a point,” Gina joins in, raising her eyebrows. “Yer the adult in the room. Plus you went to school n’ allat. Bet ya ‘ad loads of girls after ya.” 

“Oh, definitely not. You’ve got it all wrong,” Ryunosuke responds quickly, holding up his hands defensively.

Susato laughs lightly. “At least they think highly of you, Naruhodo-san.”

Iris squints her eyes. “So you were never confessed to? Not even once?”

He sighs. He’s not sure when it became gossip hour, but he figures the least he can do for Iris is indulge her questions. “That’s right.”

“But that doesn’t answer everything.” She tilts her head, watching him with those frighteningly insightful eyes of hers. “Have you ever been in love, Runo?”

“Ah…” The question is unexpected, but the answer is so obvious, it falls past his lips before he can stop it. “I suppose I have.”

The room explodes, naturally.

“You wot?!” Gina leans in with an intense stare. “You serious?”

Iris’s eyes are sparkling. “You have to tell us everything, Runo!”

“Hang on, don’t get so excited.” He glances around awkwardly, wishing he hadn’t spoken. But the answer had felt so easy, he hadn’t even hesitated. “Nothing ever came of it. I never said anything, and then…” He trails off slightly, swallowing back his emotions. “...it was too late.”

“Aww, bo- ring !” Gina declares with a huff, leaning back in her chair again with crossed arms. “An’ ‘ere I thought we were fin’lly gettin’ some drama.”

Ryunosuke idly plays with the ends of Kazuma’s hachimaki, still tied to Karuma at his waist. “Well, sorry to disappoint.”

Susato has been quiet, he realizes. He glances over at her. She watches him with intense, intelligent eyes, and an unreadable expression. She looks almost sad, or perhaps pitying. 

“Naruhodo-san…” she eventually begins.

“Ah, dessert is served!” Sholmes cuts her off, floating over to the table and helping himself. 

“Dessert was served ages ago, Hurley,” Iris responds. “You didn’t notice because you were so focused on your violin.”

“But you all heard it, didn’t you?” He’s already taken a bite of a biscuit, and is spraying crumbs around with every word. “It was art in the making, dear fellows! You should be honored to have borne witness!”

The room dissolves into cheerful conversation once more. Ryunosuke tries to catch Susato’s eye, but her mysterious expression has disappeared, and she is smiling and laughing with the others. What was it she’d wanted to say to him, with her knowing eyes?

He leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Love…

It’s a shame he didn’t have a better story to tell.

Karuma weighs heavier than usual at his waist.

He does not have a name.

He’s sure he does, or did , at some point, but no one knows it, so naturally, no one uses it. Some days he doubts that he was ever someone - perhaps because that makes it easier to wrap his head around his current existence as no one . There are reminders of the man he once was - the voice in his head, urging him down the path he knows he must follow, for example. He obeys, because he knows not what else to do.

But at present, he does not have a name. He is just the Apprentice. He is spending today, like every day, kneeling in his mentor’s office, writing dutifully. 

He is vaguely aware of new presences in the room - a young man and a young girl, it seems - but he does not let it break his concentration. He completes his task, then rises to deliver it to his mentor.

“Ah…!” The young man reacts with surprise upon seeing him move, as though he’d thought the Apprentice were a statue.

It is not unusual for people to react to him with disturbance, he’s noticed. He stares hollowly at the boy, for the briefest of moments, before turning to van Zieks and handing off his report.

“The task is complete? Good. In that case, you can collate all the briefs.”

The Apprentice bows, accepting this new task. He turns, and becomes aware that the unfamiliar man is still staring at him. So he stares back.

It is a strange stare this man is giving him. He is staring less like he’s afraid, now, and more like he’s calculating something in his head. It’s odd. The Apprentice holds his gaze.

“N-nice to meet you…?” the man finally says.

The Apprentice does not respond. He’s been told not to use his voice, after all, and he finds he hardly needs to anyhow. He simply turns and returns to his workspace.

He does not think on this encounter more, though the image of the man’s face stays burned in his brain. It’s strange, but the image of him the Apprentice seems to have formulated is making an expression he certainly hadn’t made while in the room. In the Apprentice’s head, the man is smiling. He is happy. He is bright.

He finds himself keeping a careful eye on this man during the trial. He does not always make the best points, the Apprentice notes, or notice everything he should. But he has an infectious sort of trust and optimism, and he always seems to arrive at the truth in the end.

And the Apprentice is confused, because when the man points his finger, it feels like an image he should know. He does not recognize this man, but something tugs at his ill-formed brain, and it feels as though individual things are recognizable, yet they are put together to form a picture he simply does not know.

The thought gives him a headache, and he resigns himself to ignoring the man again. It’s going quite well, until the next day.

He’s delivering another report to his mentor, and the man is also at the scene. He seems to be everywhere these days. 

By his side is a dignified young lady. She watches him with much the same eyes her companion had - that frightened sort of calculation. They speak to each other in hushed tones. He pays them no mind.

The Apprentice has just handed over his report, when suddenly, the girl, now wearing an expression of firm determination, approaches his mentor. “Lord van Zieks…may we…speak with your apprentice for a moment?”

Her sudden vigor is confusing. His mentor seems to feel the same. “With him? Why?”

The Apprentice glances at the girl. Her eyes seem vaguely misty, and her companion is gripping her shoulder like the two have just discovered something terrible.

Well, it’s not his problem. He bows to his mentor, and has just turned to leave, when the girl lets out another desperate shout.

“ Kazuma-sama! ”

He stops in his tracks. Turns to face her.

What is it she just said to him?

“Kazu…ma…?”

He hasn’t spoken in months, and his voice comes out hoarse. But his response causes the pair to go wide-eyed.

“Your, your posture...Your presence…” The girl clutches her chest. “It can only be...It's you...isn't it, Kazuma-sama?!”

“......” The Apprentice watches her, taking in her frantic expression. And he watches the man at her side, equally anticipating the Apprentice’s response.

There’s a sharp pain tearing through his brain. His head is spinning once more. He does not want to be in this place anymore, he decides. He turns and walks off with elevated speed.

“W-wait!” he hears the man call after him. He jolts at the sound of his voice, but keeps walking.

Kazuma… who is this Kazuma ? The name itches violently at his mind.

Is he this man? This Kazuma? Did these people really know him? It feels as though he’s missing a crucial piece of the puzzle that is his identity, and he knows, somehow, that his memories are not to return until he uncovers this vital part. It’s easier to ignore his aching head and be the Apprentice than to push himself. He was never sure he wanted to go back to who he was before, anyway. But he feels something shifting, now. Perhaps he’s almost ready.

He’s getting the sense that he may become this Kazuma again very soon.

Of all the things Ryunosuke had imagined about the mysterious Professor, him being Japanese had never crossed his mind. And somehow, this is the smallest shock he gets that night.

There’s a shatter, and a horrible, pained scream, and suddenly, van Zieks’s apprentice tears off his hood.

And Ryunosuke’s mind begins to float.

He knew, from the moment he met this man, despite the better half of his face being obscured, he knew this face, he knew this presence . He had suspicions, and hopes, but he hadn’t accepted them as reality. He couldn’t, for his own sake. But the man before him now…

He feels himself holding his breath.

A barely-formed mumble escapes the man’s throat, as he stumbles towards the wax figure.

“F…father…”

“Wha…? Father?” There are so many things Ryunosuke does not understand. His eyes follow the man in white.

His hand reaches to his mask.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he peels it off.

And it’s real. The reality Ryunosuke hadn’t dared imagine true.

His best friend, Kazuma Asogi, is standing before him.

He feels his eyes cloud over. After all this time, Kazuma has come back to him.

Kazuma opens his eyes, and glances over. He meets his friend’s eyes, and his harsh gaze softens. “Ryunosuke…”

Ryunosuke closes his eyes, holding back his tears. He never thought he’d get to hear Kazuma speak his name again. There’s a pain in his chest, as he realizes how badly he’d longed for something so simple.

“Hello again…” he finally says, opening his eyes, “...my friend.”

Susato rushes forward, and Ryunosuke takes this as his cue to do the same. The reunion is dizzying, and he’s not sure he knows what’s real anymore, but in the most positive sense he could imagine.

“Thank you,” he hears Kazuma say, gentle and true. “Thank you for guiding my friend here when I could not.”

“It…it was an honour,” Susato responds through her joyous tears.

Kazuma’s gaze falls back on Ryunosuke, who smiles softly.

He wants nothing more than to run forward, gathering his friend in his arms, holding him tight, but he’s afraid to do so, as if the moment isn’t real, and he’ll phase right through him. It feels as if Kazuma is a precious thing he is not allowed to touch. As though, after all this time, he is still not allowed to close the distance between them. So instead, he steps cautiously forward.

“I knew you wouldn’t die that easily, Kazuma.”

Kazuma closes his eyes fondly. “...I owe you thanks, too,” he says, “for taking good care of that in my absence.”

He nods toward Karuma, still standing firmly at Ryunosuke’s waist.

“Hm…Oh!”

He detaches the famed katana from his waist. Kazuma’s soul. It has guided him in the months of his friend’s absence. He holds it gently over his heart. 

“With this by my side…I always felt that you were watching over me somehow.”

He holds it out, and his partner retrieves it with a soft smile. 

There are words unspoken that he hopes Kazuma understands.

Thank you for lending me your soul. You can have it back now. I’ve put some of mine into it, too.

The tenderness of the moment does not last, however, as Kazuma steps forward, laden with tense determination, and cuts down the figure of his father.

“Ryunosuke...we have much to talk about, but now is not the time.”

He turns to face him, with darkened eyes. “...I'll be seeing you.”

And he leaves, while Ryunosuke remains, not sure how to understand his final words.

It’s not fair that Ryunosuke is expected to remain focused in these circumstances.

His best friend, who he thought was dead for a year , is standing across from him in the courtroom. In the eight days since his return, they still haven’t spoken properly. He has acted nothing but cold and distant. Yet he also specifically requested his friend defend. It confuses Ryunosuke. And it certainly makes it difficult to focus on the task at hand.

But this isn’t the only thing driving him to distraction, embarrassing as it is. His friend’s appearance is unfortunately something he’s taking strong notice of.

His hair is slightly longer than it was a year ago, naturally, and it frames his face in a rather beautiful way. He’s always had an extraordinarily handsome face, of course, but with the new hair, and without the hachimaki, his features are especially displayed. And not to mention, his new suit is skin-tight, accentuating his muscular figure. Ryunosuke has always known he was muscular, of course, but knowing and having it prominently displayed in front of him are two very different things.

Seeing van Zieks in the stand grounds him, though, and seeing Susato by his side does as well. For now, he must focus on the pursuit of the truth. There will be time to sort out his emotions later. The embarrassing ones, and the more serious matters as well. 

Their goodbye was not nearly enough. It left Ryunosuke with an aching in his chest, of words left unsaid, of unclosed distance still sundering the two of them. To imagine everything his partner has been through fills him with agony - journeying through his amnesia, fighting against corruption to prove his father’s innocence, accepting a mission as an assassin in order to uncover the truth…

He remembers what Kazuma said to him on the day of his return. We have much to talk about. He feels that, after all this time, they still haven’t talked about any of it.

But there’s nothing to be done. He must head off, and Kazuma must stay. So he tells Susato to send his regards.

She smiles lightly. “Actually...I think you ought to give him your regards in person, don't you?”

“Sorry?”

“Ryunosuke.” The voice rings out clear and proud, and oh-so-familiar, and Ryunosuke whips around.

And there he is, appearing before him like a beacon of light. His best friend. His partner.

“Kazuma! Wh-What are you doing here?!”

He laughs his signature, boisterous laugh, and Ryunosuke feels his heart skip in his chest. “Do you really think I'd miss my best friend's departure?”

Of course. Of course he came. He’s still the same Kazuma, after all. Ryunosuke wonders why he ever doubted his friend would return to him once more. He shakes his head, and can’t help but let out a small laugh. 

“...Thanks. To be honest, I'd been looking forward to our wild time tearing up the streets of Her Majesty's capital, but…” He trails off, awkwardly glancing down.

“Mm. Well...we'll have to save that for another time,” Kazuma muses. “Personally, I'm looking forward to facing you in court again.”

“Me too,” Ryunosuke responds instinctually. Then the statement clicks with him. “...But...we're both defence lawyers, so…”

Kazuma’s gaze hardens. “I'm going to become a prosecutor.”

Ah, Ryunosuke realizes. He may be the same Kazuma, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t still changed.

“I'll stay in Lord van Zieks's tutelage for the time being,” his friend continues, “but before long...I intend to be just as formidable as the Reaper himself.”

“Oh…” Imaging Kazuma as a prosecutor is certainly a shift in perspective, and not anything like what Ryunosuke could have imagined in the past. But in a strange way…it suits him. He knows, in his heart, that his friend will grow to be a legendary prosecutor, one who always cuts his way to the truth without fail. “I see.”

“Actually, Ryunosuke…” Kazuma begins, glancing down tensely before looking deep into his friend’s eyes. “I have a favour to ask.”

“Name it,” Ryunosuke says without hesitation. Perhaps his drive is intensified by the passion of the moment, but he knows he would do anything for the man before him.

Kazuma elegantly detaches his katana from his waist. “I'd like you...to take care of this for me for a while.”

Ryunosuke blinks. “Karuma? Why?”

Kazuma looks away, somewhat pained. “Because I've seen it now,” he murmurs. “I've seen what's inside me. The demon that reared its ugly head that day.”

Ryunosuke feels his hand twitch towards his friend, longing to comfort him, but he steadies himself, letting Kazuma speak. 

“It was only for the briefest of moments,” Kazuma continues, “the last time I came face to face with that inspector...but it was unmistakable.” He takes a shaky breath. “I wanted to kill him.

“I've always known there are demons that live inside people. And now I know there is one in me. The fact that it very nearly consumed me is something I'll carry with me until the end of my days...while I devote my life to fighting those whose demons have got the better of them…” 

Finally, he allows his eyelids to lift, meeting Ryunosuke with a fierce gaze. “...as a prosecutor!”

Ryunosuke understands, now, looking into the light that spills into his friend’s eyes once more. Kazuma wants to become the best version of himself, before the two can truly bridge the gap. And until then…he’ll leave his soul to watch over Ryunosuke in his stead. “So...that's what you've resolved to do, is it?”

“Until I'm ready to face the demon within me - to slay it once and for all…” He holds out Karuma, with a firm expression, and trembling hands. “I leave this in your care. If you'll take it.”

You have returned my soul to me, but I am not ready for it yet. Have it back. Put more of your soul into it, and one day, when I am a better man, you can return it to me once more.

The unspoken words behind the gesture ring clear in Ryunosuke’s head. He takes Karuma in his tender grip. “Of course I will.” He gives his friend a smile of overwhelming love. “I'll keep it by my side. Always.”

Kazuma returns the expression, if only for the briefest of moments, before he is again lost in his contemplation.

“Until we meet again, then,” Ryunosuke says, letting the hope of their reunion trump the sadness of their parting. “You have your path to follow, and I have mine.”

“Ruuunooo! Your ship's about to leave!”

Time has flown by so fast on this dock. Ryunosuke’s eyes flit around in a mild panic.

“Time to go then,” Kazuma speaks up, shaking his head with a smile. “Look after yourself, Ryunosuke.”

“Kazuma…”

Ryunosuke wants very badly to grab his friend’s face and kiss him long and hard, but that doesn’t seem entirely appropriate in this moment, for a number of reasons. Instead, a different plan tugs at his mind.

“...draw your sword.”

Kazuma blinks, taken aback. Then he smiles fondly.

As the sun begins to rise behind them, illuminating their blades, the two men cross their swords in a steadfast oath.

“One day...when our paths cross once more…” Ryunosuke vows, “...we'll fight a duel. A duel of words, across the courtroom. A day I eagerly await...as a lawyer.”

You drove me into this role, after all. It’s all thanks to you I realized my potential.

“...I've been waiting to hear you say that…” Kazuma responds, his eyes alight with pure adoration, “...partner!”

The sun seems cradled between their katanas, balanced between them. They hold the world in their grasp.

Ryunosuke knows, of course, he must head out. So he sheathes Karuma at his waist, not daring to look away from his partner, for even a moment. “Don't forget me then, Kazuma.”

Kazuma returns his gaze in kind. “As if I could…Ryunosuke.”

“Hurry, now! We don’t want to be late!”

“You’re far too excitable, Susato-san. We have plenty of time.”

Despite Ryunosuke’s attempts to soothe her fervor, Susato still tugs furiously at his sleeve. “My father and Rei are already there! It’s poor manners to keep them waiting!”

Ryunosuke scratches his neck, allowing himself to be pulled forth by his assistant. “I just don’t understand why we’re getting there so early if the ship isn’t due to arrive until nine.”

Susato stops in her tracks so shortly that Ryunosuke nearly slams into her.

“Ngh-! What? What’s wrong?”

“Naruhodo-san.” She turns to glare at him, hands on her hips. He feels a cold shiver run down his spine. “The ship is set to arrive at eight .”

Ah.

Ah.

“...Ah.”

“Well, don’t just stand there agape! Make haste!”

After arriving back in Japan, Ryunosuke had quickly realized that Professor Mikotoba was indeed right - a lawyer like himself was exactly what the judicial system needed. He’d fought many cases, protecting the innocent, and even acting as a necessary advocate for the guilty. He felt like he was bringing real change into the courts, and could only hope it would lead to real reform. He’s at the very beginning of great change, he can feel it.

It had been around a year since his return when a letter arrived at the Mikotoba residence, penned in gothic calligraphy, informing them that one Kazuma Asogi had determined his apprenticeship was complete, and he would be setting sail for Japan in a matter of days. Ryunosuke and Susato both received personal letters from Kazuma confirming this, and a bit later, Professor Mikotoba also received a letter from Sholmes, announcing his and Iris’s intentions to accompany Kazuma on his voyage and visit Japan.

Ryunosuke had done his best to quell his anticipation, of course, but found that even after weeks, the same level remained. But now, the day has arrived. He can’t believe he got the time wrong. He was sure he’d written it down. Though he’s not quite sure where , or if he wrote it correctly in the first place.

“Susatoooo!!” A blur of a girl streaks forward like a bullet, and before Ryunosuke can blink, she’s wrapped her arms around his assistant. “Thank goodness you’ve arrived! I was beginning to get worried!”

Susato returns the embrace blissfully. “My apologies, Rei.” She then cuts a look at Ryunosuke. “Naruhodo-san is simply impossible to wake in the mornings.”

“That’s a surprise,” Professor Mikotoba joins in, approaching with a smile. “I would think he’d be most excited of all to see his partner again.”

“I made a simple mistake,” Ryunosuke huffs. “We’re not too late, are we?”

“The ship just docked,” Rei informs him, arms still wound around Susato. “Passengers should begin exiting soon.”

Sure enough, as though to punctuate her sentence, people begin streaming out of the ship. It seems to have been at maximum capacity, and Ryunosuke has to squint to try and spot familiar faces.

“Oh dear. That’s quite the crowd, isn’t it?” Susato sighs, scanning the sea of people.

As soon as she says this, however, there’s a sudden puff of pink smoke from amidst the crowd.

“Oh-!” She and Ryunosuke exchange a look of realization.

“My, I hope she’s not lost in the crowd…” Mikotoba adjusts his hat. “Perhaps I should try to find them.”

“Oh, hang on…” Rei points at the area the smoke came from. “Could that be her there?”

Sure enough, poking her head above the crowd is Iris, spinning some sort of dial on her goggles as she peers around. Her eyes eventually land on the group, and she waves both arms in excitement.

“That’s certainly her!” Susato waves back with a smile. “Look, here she comes.”

“It can’t be…surely she couldn’t have grown that much?” Ryunosuke asks in disbelief.

Susato gives him an incredulous look. “Really, Naruhodo-san, what sort of genetics do you think that girl has?”

“Susie! Runo!!” Their bickering is cut off by excited shouts, as none other than Herlock Sholmes makes his way out of the crowd, Iris upon his shoulders.

“My dear fellows!” he exclaims, setting his daughter down. “It’s been much too long!”

(Iris immediately wraps Ryunosuke in a hug, of course. She looks as though she wanted to include Susato, but noticed she was still occupied with Rei clung to her, and figured she’d wait her turn.)

“It’s been one year, Sholmes,” Mikotoba says with a chuckle. “Nothing compared to our ten year separation.”

“Yes, and that was most too long!” Sholmes insists.

Mikotoba shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “Well, I can’t say I disagree.”

“So you’re the great Herlock Sholmes!” Rei squeals, finally letting go of her friend, eyes shining gleefully. “Susato introduced me to your stories years ago! They’re incredible!”

“Yes, yes, quite!” Sholmes responds, standing a little taller with the praise. “And it’s all true, you know!”

“Well, mostly, anyway,” Iris reminds him, shaking her head. She extends a polite hand. “You must be Miss Rei. It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Iris Sholmes.”

Sholmes makes a little noise like he’s about to cry, but quickly turns his head and pretends it’s a cough.

Rei shakes Iris’s hand with vigor. “Ohhh, a real detective and a real author on the same day! I feel as though I’m dreaming!”

“Iris is also a great inventor,” Susato adds, beaming. “What do those new goggles you’re wearing do?”

“Oh, these? They help enhance faraway vision! So I can spot you all from far away.”

“Really?!” Rei explodes with zeal. “That’s incredible! You must tell me how they work, I want to know everything!!”

As the girls dissolve into excited conversation, Ryunosuke smiles at the detective. “It really is good to see you again, Mr Sholmes.”

“Likewise, Mr Naruhodo!” Sholmes proclaims, ruffling his former tenant’s hair. “I trust your lives have been dull and dreary without my presence?”

“Something like that,” Ryunosuke responds with amusement. He tilts his head. “By the way, where’s all your luggage?”

“Ah, well, my arms were teeming with the limbs of a young inventor, so I left the luggage for your friend to take care of,” Sholmes declares, pointing his signature finger.

Can one person even carry all that? Ryunosuke wonders incredulously. Well, if anyone can, it’s probably Kazuma.

“ Gordon Bennett , that’s ‘eavy!” rings out an unexpected voice. “I didn’t come ‘ere to be put to work, ya know!”

“Then what exactly did you come here for?” responds a far more expected one. Ryunosuke’s eyes dart around.

“Oh, there they are!” Out of the spew of people, a new figure approaches the group. A familiar green-clad girl grins from ear to ear. She’s holding a suitcase on each arm, so instead of waving, she just sort of nods her head enthusiastically. “‘Ello, old friends!”

“G-Gina!” Ryunosuke is taken aback, as are the rest of his Japanese companions. 

Susato hurries forward. “Oh! I hadn’t realized you were coming.”

“None of us did,” an exhausted voice cuts in, and Ryunosuke blinks, and suddenly, Kazuma is at Gina’s side.

“Ah! Kazuma-sama!” Susato reacts fastest, enveloping him in a warm embrace. He can’t reciprocate, since he’s holding two even larger suitcases, but he smiles warmly.

“Hello again,” he says. “It’s good to be back.”

“Miss Lestrade,” Mikotoba raises, clearing his throat. “How exactly is it you ended up aboard this ship? Last I heard from Sholmes, you couldn’t afford the fare.”

“Oh, that? That was no problem for a former scoundrel like myself,” Gina responds deviously.

“She stowed away in my luggage,” Kazuma elucidates, cutting her a subtle glare.

“You seem to have quite the knack for that, Mr Asogi,” Sholmes responds, raising his eyebrows.

“I told you, this was not my idea,” Kazuma insists, thrusting Sholmes’s luggage at him, and dropping his own suitcase at his side.

“I just cleared out all the junk wot was in his second case an’ snuck myself in.” Gina shrugs. “There’s no way anyone needs two cases, anysuch.”

“You left half my belongings scattered in England.”

“Well, you sent that reaper that telly-gram tellin’ ‘im to ship over yer things, so it’s all worked out, right? ‘Sides, yer lucky I didn’t bring Toby.”

“You left him with that coroner girl, didn’t you? You’ll be lucky if she hasn’t already dissected him.”

“Nah, she likes ‘im.” The young inspector breaks from the bickering, taking in her surroundings. “So this is Japan! Wot an adventure!”

Ryunosuke hasn’t been quite sure how to cut into this mess of a reunion, but now, as the others begin a jovial conversation, he finally meets Kazuma’s eyes.

“Hello,” Kazuma says softly, stepping towards him.

“Hello,” Ryunosuke murmurs in response, meeting him halfway. Their surroundings have already melted away. “It’s…really good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Kazuma hums.

The energy is electric, in a way it hasn’t felt in a long time. Oh-so-tenderly, Ryunosuke takes his partner by the hand.

“I was hoping to take you somewhere, if that’s alright.”

“Let’s go,” Kazuma says, without hesitation.

“Will the others mind, though? I think they may be planning to get lunch-”

“They can wait for dinner,” Kazuma cuts him off. Intertwines their fingers.

Ryunosuke feels himself shiver.

“Alright, then,” he says, a small grin tugging at his mouth, “let’s go.”

“Naruhodo-san, Kazuma-sa-” Susato stops mid-sentence, as she turns to see the two hurrying off discreetly, hand-in-hand. She shakes her head fondly. “Ah. Well, I suppose they can handle themselves.”

The walk is only around forty minutes, and they travel mostly in silence, simply taking in each other’s presences. It’s been far too long since they’ve gone off on an adventure like this. It makes Ryunosuke feel like they’re students again.

“Oh, don’t tell me…” Kazuma finally speaks up with a devilish grin. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Seems we’ve arrived at our destination,” Ryunosuke responds slyly, swinging their arms.

Before them is the grand restaurant of La Carneval.

“So it’s a trip down memory lane, then?”

“I suppose,” Ryunosuke shrugs. “I thought you might want to see how things have changed.”

“Changed, indeed. It’s certainly looking a little worse for wear,” Kazuma remarks.

“Well, that would be because it shut down about a month ago,” Ryunosuke informs him. “Seems the murder wasn’t very good for business. It’s a miracle they stayed open this long, especially after Hosonaga-san left.”

“So there’s no one in there?”

“That’s typically how closed establishments work, yes.”

Kazuma’s eyes sparkle. “Let’s sneak in.”

Ryunosuke starts. “K-Kazuma!”

“Come on, Ryunosuke!” His partner tugs at his hand excitedly. “You want to, I know it. Why else would you bring me here?”

“It-! It was the first stop on a list of many places to-”

But Kazuma pulls him forward, and, well, Ryunosuke has always been easily convinced by him.

It looks the same as it always did, really, just sans furniture, and sans people. The two end up sitting side by side on the floor. Ryunosuke glances over at his friend. The image of the Kazuma before him, so different from the Kazuma across from him when they last dined here, fills him with an ineffable sensation.

“So, you’re officially a prosecutor now,” he comments.

“I am,” Kazuma nods. “Quite a different outcome then we expected when we dined here, hm?”

“That’s just what I was thinking.” His leg brushes Kazuma’s. “But not in a bad way.”

Something flickers across Kazuma’s face. “No?”

Ryunosuke shakes his head. “It was an adjustment, of course. But you’ve really grown into yourself now, Kazuma.”

Kazuma buries his face in his friend’s shoulder. Ryunosuke startles at the suddenness of it, and hesitates to touch him.

“You too…” he mumbles into Ryunosuke’s shoulder, then lifts his head. “You’ve grown into an unspeakably brilliant lawyer.”

Kazuma’s face is incredibly close to his. Ryunosuke reddens and clears his throat.

“On the subject of…growth…” he begins, failing to maintain eye contact as he speaks, “I think we have a lot to discuss.”

Kazuma withdraws from Ryunosuke’s shoulder, expression falling into something akin to seriousness. “I suppose we do.”

The two have exchanged plenty of letters over the last year, of course, but they knew the more sober conversations could only occur in person.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me for all I’ve done,” Kazuma says, staring forward.

“What do I have to forgive you for, exactly?”

Kazuma blinks.

Ryunosuke raises his eyebrows.

“I take it back,” Kazuma says, shaking his head with what looks to be the formations of a smile. “I was partly expecting you to say you forgive me, even if I didn’t think you should. But that was the last thing I expected to hear you say.”

“I am asking, though.”

“Ryunosuke, I was…I was secretive. I hid things from you. And then, I was impulsive, and vengeful, and-”

“You were human,” Ryunosuke interrupts him gently. “You acted poorly, yes, but you realized your mistakes and worked to improve yourself.”

“And I have,” Kazuma says. “Improved myself, I mean. I was in a dark place when we first reunited. But like I said…I worked to become someone who quells darkness, not gives into it.”

Ryunosuke is silent, letting Kazuma’s words resonate.

“I wanted to tell you everything, you know,” Kazuma adds. “That’s the reason I invited you to England with me.” He pauses. “Well, one of many reasons. But I wanted you by my side. There’s no one I trusted more. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. I was afraid of how you’d look at me if you knew everything.”

“I wouldn’t have looked at you differently,” Ryunosuke near-whispers. “I would’ve stayed by your side. Always.”

“Of course you would have. I know now,” Kazuma responds, with a faintly warm expression. “You’ve never changed how you look at me. Not through any of this. Even now.”

Ryunosuke feels rather bashful at this observation. He lets his friend’s words hang in the air once more.

“So that’s why you returned, then?” he finally speaks up. “You’ve finally reached that goal of who you want to become?”

Kazuma finally meets his eyes again, with newfound intensity. “Yes. Or at least, I’ve overcome the first hurdle of the journey.”

Ryunosuke smiles earnestly, rising from his seat. “Then I believe I have something that belongs to you.”

He offers Kazuma his hand, allowing him to rise as well. “You don’t say.”

After all this time, Ryunosuke still handles Karuma with the utmost respect and care. He removes it from his waist, treasuring it in his hands for a moment. Then he outstretches his arms, presenting it to Kazuma. “This katana is your soul, after all.”

Kazuma smiles at the echoed sentiment, and ever so gently, he takes Karuma from Ryunosuke’s hands. He seems to lose himself in thought for a moment, turning it around before him, before looking up to meet his friend’s eyes.

Ryunosuke gives him a reassuring expression. Kazuma only seems to dive further into thought.

Finally, even more gently than he received it, Kazuma presses Karuma back into Ryunosuke’s hands, closing his partner’s fingers over it. “I think you should keep it.”

Ryunosuke blinks.

Blinks again.

“Huh?”

“I want you to keep it,” Kazuma says again, slowly, hands still atop Ryunosuke’s.

“But, Kazuma, this sword…It’s, it’s the legendary Karuma. It’s…It cuts to the truth.”

“I don’t need a sword to cut to the truth, Ryunosuke. I’ve learned how to do that myself.”

Ryunosuke shakes his head. “Is this about you still feeling unworthy of it? Because I-”

Kazuma just laughs. “That’s not it at all. I just want you to keep it.”

“But…why?” Ryunosuke asks in disbelief. “Kazuma, this is your family blade.”

“You’re as important to me as family,” Kazuma responds.

Ryunosuke flushes.

As important as family. He can hear the unspoken words behind the gesture, suddenly. He wonders if he’s hearing the right ones.

“This is…your soul,” he whispers.

“I rather like the idea of my soul being in your hands,” Kazuma murmurs in response.

Ryunosuke swallows hard.

“Okay,” he finally says.

“Okay?”

He lets Karuma hang at his waist once more, then meets Kazuma’s eyes with a newfound resolve. “Okay.”

And finally, Kazuma grabs his face and kisses him.

This is nothing like their first kiss. It is much more real. It is forcible and passionate, two years of separation fueling it. It lasts only a few seconds, though, before Kazuma pulls himself back.

“Ryunosuke,” he begins, “I-”

Ryunosuke does not let him finish, pulling him in once more.

I know already. You hardly have to say it.

They kiss again and again, years of desire overflowing and conquering this moment. Ryunosuke has wondered, for too long, what it would feel like to run his hands through Kazuma’s hair, to be controlled in his embrace, at his mercy. He knows, now. Nothing could ever be more exhilarating.

The furious passion begins to fade, and now their kisses become something far more sweet. They find themselves seated on the floor again, Kazuma with one hand still cupping Ryunosuke’s cheek, the other hand intertwined with Ryunosuke’s, while Ryunosuke’s other arm holds Kazuma tight.

This is real, Ryunosuke finds himself thinking. We are here, together, and this is real.

Against his will, he feels a tear run down his cheek.

Kazuma pulls away, worried. He wipes it away gently with his thumb. “Are you alright?”

“Ah- yes,” Ryunosuke responds, blinking away the remnants. “Just happy, I suppose.”

Kazuma gives him a look that can only be described as complete and utter adoration. He squeezes his lover’s hand, and gently kisses the spot he wiped the tear from.

Ryunosuke feels himself glow, then awkwardly looks down. “We’ve been here an awful long time, though, haven’t we.”

Kazuma sighs. “I suppose . The others are probably wondering where we disappeared to.”

Ryunosuke runs an embarrassed hand over his swollen lips, and exchanges a look with Kazuma. “Perhaps we should…wait a bit.”

“That sounds like a fine plan,” Kazuma declares, wrapping his arm around his partner’s shoulder. “They can be worried a bit longer.”

Ryunosuke lets his head fall to rest on Kazuma’s chest. He can hear his heartbeat. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more comfortable in his life.

He suddenly regrets cutting off Kazuma earlier. So he speaks. 

“I love you, you know.”

“I do know. And I love you…my partner.”