greatestdefective | Telepathic IC 'Inbox' and Messenger Bird Reception

[... All right, perhaps speaking to an attorney about the weight of truth as if he wouldn't know is a bit stupid of Holmes to do. Especially an attorney who got disbarred for six months because of a painful truth. But then... Holmes was there for the disbarment and he saw how it'd affected Naruhodou- And that was just for something as silly as tampering with crime scenes and getting a not-guilty for a guy who was guilty as sin. Anything involving a best friend- a partner- is an immediate private affliction with a difficult recovery process.

So he says nothing. He merely stands there and waits for Naruhodou to leave because, really, what else can he do?]

[ Asougi hangs back as well, not following Naruhodou but not leaving just yet either — making sure that his friend gets the space he needs. The only movement he makes is to pull his sword back from pinning the cloak to the floor, sheathing it once more. ]

[Aaand a few seconds later, Naruhodou is out the door, so now it's just the two of them. Holmes sighs and finally removes the cloak, tossing it onto the floor. It's already got a hole in it now anyway, so he doubts Asougi still wants it that badly.]

[ He might not be in any rush to get it, but Asougi's not just going to leave it laying there either. He takes a step forward, reaching over to scoop it up. As he does so, Asougi glances over at Holmes, giving him a wary, searching look, as if trying to figure out exactly what he knows. ]

[Sherlock is silent for a moment, then just forces himself into a broad smile that's obviously not genuine. He's a little too rattled to say the following sentiments and mean them.]

Sooo sorry about that, Mr. Exchange Student! It's rude, isn't it, to argue in front of guests? And I suppose I should say... Welcome to Empatheias!

[ Asougi straightens up, giving him a suspicious, uncertain look at that. But after a moment, he does respond, though it's a bit strained. ]

. . . Thank you for the welcome, I suppose.

[ He supposes. ]

I don't suppose you recall, but we actually met on the ship more than once. [Remember the steak thefts, Asougi? Good times.] I resuscitated you when all those amateurs declared you dead on the spot. Good grief, leave it to cabin crew to make such a terrible mistake.

[Feel free to interpret 'resuscitate' any way you like, Asougi. Holmes has been taught CPR in the past, but who even knows what falls under a successful resurrection in his book.]

[ That seems to faintly ring a bell. Given the state of his memory up until recently, it takes Asougi a moment or two to think hard on that, trying to pull pieces out of the haze that had been dumped back in his head unceremoniously. ]

. . . Naruhodou's meat ghost.

[ That was memorable, at least. Asougi eyes him flatly when he continues though. ]

I would say "thank you" — if it weren't for the circumstances.

[It was his birthday- he was totally allowed to have a good meaty feast.

His shoulders slump at that last remark and he hangs his head. Look, Sherlock tried his best, okay. Anything for another one of Mikotoba's cute little orphans. It's just hard when assassins or serial killers get involved and the next thing he knows, he's hiding vital information about them to keep them safe.]

Well, that is... I mean... I assumed you would be safe in Hong Kong. How was I to know you would go wandering around before you could be dropped off there? Last I saw you, you could barely speak, let alone stand.

Why would you assume I would be safe in Hong Kong?

[ It's an honest question this time, unlike his heated accusations from before. But he's genuinely curious as to why. ]

[ERRR. Rats.]

W-Well, I mean! It's safer than continuing all the way to England in your condition! Because a steamship is not at all equipped with the proper medical supplies to tend to someone who's barely conscious, see?

[ dude. dude. ]

If that were the case, then you wouldn't have led Naruhodou and Mikotoba to believe that I was dead. There would have been no reason not to tell them about my condition.

[Mikotoba, what- oh that Mikotoba. Right.]

But when I have no choice, I have no choice! Sometimes, a Great Detective stumbles upon such reasons and then, well... Then the wool has to be pulled over people's eyes.

What were you trying to do, Detective? What exactly were you trying to prevent?

[ It's vague wording, but— he has to know. It comes out almost impatiently, like he's tired of beating around the bush. ]

[His gaze moves from Asougi to the window. ...Well, they were right about one thing: they won't remember when they go back home. It's a burden for Naruhodou, but Asougi... Well, Asougi is made of stronger stuff, probably.

His breath leaves him in another thick, misty cloud.]

... Assassination.

[ He sucks in a bit of air at that. So the detective knows. He couldn't have known everything — how he's not planning on actually going through with it (yet), how he knows he'll inevitably have to bite the hand that feeds him and may very well become a scapegoat, how it's all just— become a high wire act without a net for him in his own search for the truth and then, for justice.

The lighting in the room flickers, dimming. ]

. . . I see.

[He 'sees'? That's it? ... Asougi is definitely a strong, formidable person to take it so easily.]

... Then, you understand? Why I couldn't tell anyone of your fate?

How did you know?

[ He's not answering that question until he gets answers of his own. That's what it's always been about. His voice is steady, but there's an edge to it. Whose side is this guy supposed to be on? ]

I make it a habit of listening in on international telegrams. One never knows what sort of seedy messages may be exchanged between countries. This particular assassination assignment ran precisely that deep. So... I'm sorry, but you're a bit of a big deal, Mr. Exchange Student.

[And Holmes would never use his telegram eavesdropping skills for anything immoral.......]

[ Something . . . doesn't seem quite right. Asougi can't quite place his finger on it, but it's there, lingering in the back of his mind. The "Exchange Student" part makes him visibly wince, though. Exchange program indeed. ]

. . . Then there was some sort of message, between Japan and England?

There was a message. Four names in all. Though, I'm afraid that... in my future, three of those names have perished, leaving you the last one standing.

[Ann Sasha, he assumes, is dead forever. No one would go 'missing' after appearing on a hitlist- not unless Sherlock were to interfere and make them missing, but he doesn't remember ever faking Sasha's death. He didn't even know this woman.]

— Three have?

[ He pales visibly at that, a chill setting in around him. If there were four names and three of them are dead and only he remains, that would mean— but he wouldn't. ]

... I couldn't prevent it. Even with all my efforts, I couldn't make it in time... But then... I should've tried harder...

[OH NO the rain cloud is back. It looms over Sherlock, dark and heavy and full of cold, harsh droplets.]

[ His hand strays back to Karma's hilt, gripping it — not to pull it out or anything, but just as a small comfort. ]

How did— Detective, how did they die . . .

[ Rain or no, he has to know. ]

Poison... For one of them. You would know this- you were there for the trial, alongside Mr. Naruhodou. Miss Brett's motive for murder is not at all a mystery when you factor in the names. But the most recent victim... I was about to investigate when I was taken here. Shot, said the young woman who came to us for help. Shot in a shady room on the outskirts of London, but I don't believe it. Not him. Not like that. There has to be more to it.

[He draws in a deep breath, though he's having some difficulty.]

And I cannot tell Mr. Naruhodou... To know that such a tragedy is awaiting him when he returns home... It's too much.

Telepathic IC 'Inbox' and Messenger Bird Reception

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