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Considering his trip to England had been one ever-increasing slope of continuous misery, Soseki had been counting the seconds until he could leave. And while he'd breathed a sigh of relief the minute he boarded the steamship, he hadn't expected his journey back to prove this...physically challenging.
Being busted nearly as soon as he set foot below decks on the minor technicality and, frankly, unacceptable condition of 'no pets allowed' certainly hadn't helped. Nevertheless, even if he hadn't spent the first week of the voyage locked away in the below-decks cell before the crew begrudgingly admitted he'd served his time, that wouldn't have been the problem.
The problem was the movement. As a human being, he considered himself to be relatively orthodox in his tastes regarding the ground: He preferred it to be still. Life on this accursed steamship was anything but, and the constant jostling and shifting served as a constant reminder of the sea, seeming to expand ever onwards, making arrival at any port at all an unthinkable abstract. The ocean flooded his heart on all sides, seeping intrusively inwards.
Words swimming before him when he tried to read, thoughts splashing and roiling in his head, spending most of his time clamped into bed, fighting his own body in fervent attempts to keep his food down. In theory, the prospect of spending months calmly drifting across the sea had seemed like a relaxing one, but in the turmoil of the open waves, even cracking two weeks had been torture. Back and forth, back and forth, in a room that refused to stop spinning...
His waterlogged stream of consciousness was cut short by the sharp sound of knocking on steel. He glanced up from his pillow, squinting around the room. According to the clock perched on the side of the desk, dinnertime wasn't for another two hours, and with no acquaintances on board there'd be no reason to visit him. Soseki grumbled, turning back on his side. Some metallic engine ticking, the clanging of the hull, yet another wretched noise in this wretched―
The sound repeated, louder, with a renewed sense of urgency. Nothing for it: Someone was outside, with no inclination to leave in a hurry.
Groaning, he stumbled across the confines of his cabin, prompting intrigued glances from the three curious kittens perched on various objects of furniture. Each of his steps was heavy, dazed and tumbling, charting an arduous journey across the few feet of the room. Finally he grasped the side of the door, slid the latch, pushed it open―
―and found himself staring into the face of the man who'd dragged him into a cell only a scant week earlier. After a split second of frozen panic, he blurted "I-I haven't racked up any more infractions!" and, before the sailor had a chance to speak, attempted to slam the door on him; an effort which would be blocked by the man's forearm.
"This isn't about that, Mr. Natsume." The man tilted his head to peer through the crack in the doorway, the slim grey streaks in his hair lending him an unnerving agelessness. "I'm simply here to check up on you."
"O-oh?" Those words might be a lot more comforting if delivered by someone whose bicep wasn't quivering with the effort of fighting his attempts to shut him out...and, for that matter, who knew his name. Had they looked into him while he was below decks? "Well, I-I'm fine, thank you! So―"
Before he had the chance to try to force the door shut again, the stranger spoke. "Besides...I think we may have a mutual friend in Mr. Naruhodo."
"What?" Shock resounded through his body, and for just a moment, he loosened his grip. The stranger pushed the door slightly further ajar, before Soseki caught himself and returned to bracing. It was a tug-of-war he felt certain he'd inevitably lose; he wasn't one for strenuous physical activity at the best of times, and these were anything but. "H-how could you have―possibly known that?!" He gritted his teeth, gaze fixed on the mystery man; his eyes were sharp, cold, inscrutable, and, behind those spectacles, glinting with a keen edge...
"...London is a big place, but I can't imagine its Japanese community is too substantial. With you both being exchange students, the thought that you might have run into that budding lawyer struck my mind." As he was reeling from the sailor's unexpected savviness, the man tilted his head slightly to the side. "...And I overheard the radio operator mentioning your telegram."
"Hrm..." Being watched, without his knowledge...it brought back too many memories of eyes in the walls, and spectres in the fog. He grumbled, loosening his grip a tad―fighting nausea rendered it hard to keep his strength up, and the man seemed to not be trying to force his way in as heavily anymore. "Is it your custom to spy on your passengers' private correspondence?"
"...It was rather a notable one." He tilted his head to the other side, looking decidedly blank. "Three pages is quite substantial, at half a penny a word."
Soseki grimaced. It had been something of a mistake; as he started writing one thing had led to another, and when he'd handed the letter over to one of the sailors to transmit to Morse code, he hadn't been exactly aware of the rates until the bill was slipped back under his door. He cleared his throat, attempting to give off the haughty demeanor of one for whom money was no object. "Yes, well, I―I had a lot to say."
"I see." A curt nod; the man didn't seem capable of being jostled in the least, his expression remaining decidedly neutral. "But in addition to that, I am an exception. You see―" He adjusted his glasses with a slim-fingered flourish. As they caught the light, they lent a radiant spark to the keen eyes below. "―I'm an undercover detective."
His words seemed intended to be reassuring, but having a man relentlessly try to intrude on his living quarters then reveal himself to be a detective inevitably flung Soseki's mind back to that accursed day the police had burst through his door and thrown him headlong into a hectic hellhole. Waves of cold terror rippled down his spine. "W-w-well, as I said, I haven't done anything wrong, so if you'll excuse me―" He summoned his strength in a last-ditch attempt to slam the door again. Eyebrows shooting up, the man lunged forward sharply, blocking it with his chest. The impact threw him into a moderate coughing fit, and...sent a splatter of blood to his lips, glinting red. Soseki froze for a second, then darted into action, all twitching fingers and zipping eyes.
"A-are you alright?! I'm tremendously sorry, I mean, I―" His hands went to the sailor's arm, attempting to steady him. While the forefront of his mind was consumed by an average person's shock and concern, the back of his head was ablaze with panic―they'll see him, they'll see us, they'll say I did it, I DID do it―and alight with the fervent, desperate hope that the man wasn't seriously hurt.
"Oh dear...do excuse me." The man raised his sleeve, wiping the crimson trickle off his face with a practiced motion. "I didn't mean to alarm you."
That entirely odd reaction sent him staring for a few moments, long enough to forget his hands had left the door until the sailor effortlessly pulled it open. Against the backdrop of the hallway outside, he cut a dutiful figure; statuesque and with a noble sort of calm, standing tall and at attention.
"I believe we have reason to converse, Mr. Natsume." ...Right. That was it, then. He'd lost the tug-of-war, and his penalty was having to deal with this persistent intruder. Still, there was something palpably strange about this man, at once seeming relentlessly hounding and...gregariously service-minded. "I'd appreciate if you could join me for a walk above decks."
The thought of the waves rippled through his head, ceaseless, relentless, expanding endlessly. "G-ghh―n-no, please―" It was more of a plea than an outright refusal, leaning hard on the doorframe as he clutched his churning stomach. "―I'm barely holding it together as it is..."
"...Excuse me. I believe I may not have phrased myself correctly." The stranger pressed his glasses up further onto his face, glinting in an ominous crescent. "I'd greatly appreciate if you could join me for a walk above decks."
Resolve draining from his eyes, he looked up at the man's inscrutable poker face. He found his heart sinking to the pit of his chest as he remembered that, no matter the situation, attempting to argue with authority always seemed to make matters worse for him. "...F-fine. Fine."
He slipped his sandals on and shut the door. Finding themselves with a sudden stint of privacy, the kittens in his cabin began to play, explore, and occasionally claw at the padded sleeves of the dotera coat hanging over the back of his chair.
The detective-stroke-sailor walked with clipped, clicking steps, like a ballroom dancer advancing across a vast hall. Soseki stumbled behind, feeling the waves' every jolt and tremor through the weight of thousands of tons of steel. Discontended murmuring poured out of him in a steady stream. "When will this blasted boat settle? It's utterly, unjustifiably, unreasona―uugh..." His spirited protests tapered off, one hand going to his head.
"Adjusting to life at sea can be a tricky experience, Mr. Natsume. To put it in terms you may appreciate..." He slowed down a little, seeming to at least be giving Soseki the courtesy of matching his pace, as he glanced backwards. "Find your footing or lose your lunch."
As Soseki's hand trailed against the hallway's walls for support, he found himself bristling with a general prickliness; being dragged out of his cabin, being forced into pleasantries, being spied on by a stranger..."You know...on bursting into someone's room..." He drew a series of deep breaths, finding his capability to assert himself faltering heavily in the staggering state he was in. Still, he gritted his teeth, pressing on. "...it's customary to give your name."
"Ah, yes. Do forgive me." As the man was about to embark up the stairs, he stretched out his hand, seeming to have noticed the scholar's need for something to lean on. After a moment of intense internal debate, settled by a very persuasive influx of nausea, Soseki grasped it. "Satoru Hosonaga. Imperial Police Bureau."
Above decks, the sun beamed brightly through a cloudless sky. Light joined the waves and rippled, diamondlike, across the scintillating waters, weaving back and forth with a gentle tranquility. "There, you see?" Hosonaga said, leaning slightly over the ship's railing. In the relatively limited time he'd worked on the Burya, he'd seen it plenty of times, and yet..."The placid beauty of the ocean is always a sight to behold."
"Yes. Undoubtedly. I'm in complete agreement."
Hosonaga smiled; it seemed like he was finally getting somewhere with the man. He turned to face his passenger, paused briefly, and furrowed his brow. "...I believe you'd get a better view if you opened your eyes, Mr. Natsume."
"P-please...no..." Both of his hands were clamped firmly over his face, mumbling feebly. The churning wasn't exactly worse than in the confines of his room, but there were new, sharp and varied edges of stimulus wherever he turned; wind on his face, brisk whiffs of saltwater, piercing rays of sun. The thick fogs and dark recesses of London had left him out of practice for taking in the razor-sharp, unapologetically bright sights of nature.
Hosonaga let out a soft sigh, one hand adjusting some tendrils of his hair. "Seasickness tends to get worse if you're fighting your surroundings, you know. If nothing else, try to look at the sky."
With one last groan, Soseki parted his fingers, peering cautiously along the eye-stinging starkness of the early March sun. "What―what did you..." Deep breaths, deep breaths..."Need to talk to me about?"
With a quick inhale, a different air came over Hosonaga. As a man who juggled many roles, he was unfailingly committed to whichever he happened to be wielding at the time, but something about his demeanor seemed to shift slightly from 'sailor' to 'detective'. "From your last report, it seemed you were likely to leave England in haste." Soseki felt a mix of surprise and relief as the man broke off from English and continued in Japanese; for secrecy, most likely. "A telegram from the Minister of Foreign Affairs instructed me to make sure you'd arrived safely."
"Hrm." He massaged the edges of his forehead. The attention of the government was mostly cold comfort, as they'd seemed to nearly forget about him during his year-long ordeal, but...if he'd been identified as a person of some import, perhaps he could use that to his advantage. His arms folded, finally making eye contact with Hosonaga as he gave his best attempt at a sneer. "Was that before or after you had me incarcerated?"
"Oh, before." He'd expected the question to give Hosonaga at least a moment of pause, but the man responded with utmost confidence. "Though my duties are first and foremost those of an undercover detective, while I am a sailor, I do have to play my part. Still, I'd venture to say it all worked out." A thin smile came across his lips. "After all, there's no safer place than a cell, is there?"
His fists seized into slight twitches, having been imprisoned far too much lately to humor the suggestion that he should be grateful for it. "Bah―blind devotion to rules! Obnoxiously obdurate..." A moment of pause, finding his faculties dimmed in the ship's relentless bobbing, before regaining his composure. "...oblique obstinacy! They're just cats, you know―they're not going to hurt anyone!"
A few seconds passed in silence, long enough to make Soseki think he was getting through to the man. Hosonaga stared out towards the placid waves. His glasses caught a fragment of light, rebounding blankly against the clear sky.
"...As a matter of fact, a cat was instrumental in the incident that claimed the life of Mr. Naruhodo's closest friend."
Well, that knocked the thoughts from his mind and the protests from his mouth. His eyes went wide, his heart went heavy, and all the indignance that had been bustling up his chest morphed quickly into a choking, seething shame. "I―well―th-that is, ah―"
"It's alright." Hosonaga courteously cut him off before he was overpowered by his sudden urge to scurry back below decks, or, failing that, fling himself into the sea. "You couldn't have known. But rest assured, the rules are in place for a reason."
"Y-yes, I-I see. I'm―I―" Guh. In his daydreams he always knew what to say in situations like this―if he was going to be a writer, he had to have a way with words!―and yet when reality struck him, all he could do was babble uselessly. He rustled his head, trying to at least get something cogent out. "M-my sincerest apologies, and condolences, and..." His mind fervently scanned across any hook he could lead into, or different angle to take; anything to change the subject. "He―Mr. Naruhodo Esquire spoke about his friend, once or twice, and―w-what sort of man was he?"
The detective leaned back and removed his spectacles, wiping the lenses with the edge of his neckerchief. "I only knew him briefly, but in a word...inspirational."
Silence hung in the air. There was, perhaps, more to say, but nothing Soseki felt inclined to push him into saying. He nodded curtly, letting it stay at that. "Yes...yes, that makes sense. Any friend of his would be."
The detective's slim fingers moved with a practiced efficiency, rubbing away stray spots as he spoke. "I first saw Naruhodo-san in the halls of the Imperial Court. He was clearly nervous―amateurish, even, but...I've never seen a newcomer to the justice system chase down the truth with as much fervor as he did. And with that young man at his side..." Hosonaga's brown eyes fixed on the deck, adrift in recollection, before he shook his head and replaced his spectacles. "The bond the two shared was unmistakable." His brief period of reminiscence ended, shifting his gaze back to Soseki. "May I ask how you came to meet him?"
"Ah, yes." He nodded, twiddling his fingertips. "They helped me out greatly, a couple of times when I..." His eyes lowered in an instinctive flinch, with the unfortunate side-effect of glancing over the drifting waves of the ocean. Still, it didn't rile his nerves quite as much as he'd suspected it would. "...ran afoul of the law."
"...I see." A sliver of coldness came over the detective, his spectacles glinting. "A repeat offender?"
His shoulders stiffened, blurting his response immediately. "N-no, just a repeat suspect! I've done nothing wrong, but wherever I went―I found nothing in that country but distrust, deceit, dread and despair!" His fists clenched around the ship's railing, before he sighed, leaning back. A land of cryptic mists, persistent ghouls, inhospitable landlords, dogged bloodhounds, and... " ...And those two."
His hands went to his chest, weaving aimlessly through the air in small motions, as if he was trying to shape the words as he spoke. "The both of them―radiant, like stars! Whenever I think of what they did for me, I get this surging rush of gratitude, a-and my heart fills with abject admiration! The way they arrived with nothing, stood up to the court, made the British take notice of them..." Memories flooded over him unbidden; huddled in a corner of the Old Bailey, as his two heavensent compatriots stood in his defense...he pulled himself back to the present, sensing he'd have to blink back tears if he let his mind linger. "They did more in a week than I could in a year, and I owe them my life, twice over."
"...I'm glad to hear that he's doing well." Hosonaga paused for a moment, tilting his head to the side. "He was never supposed to be a lawyer, you know."
"W-what?" His brows arched, tangling in confusion. Certainly, he'd mentioned some doubts, and made clear his own inexperience―he was a locum student for a reason, after all, but...Soseki rustled his head, sweeping his hand in a wide gesture. "Impossible! That man could be nothing else! In that country, in that courtroom―they shone resplendently!"
"Yes...from the few times I saw him, I believe I agree. Him and Ms. Mikotoba faced a tremendous tragedy on their journey over..." His voice trailed into silence, recalling his own role in that affair. What those two students had been made to witness, what they'd been forced to carry; burdens beyond their years, and questions without answers to hand. "...and yet, they stood tall and continued on. The two of them, more than anything, seem to possess a tremendous sense of resolve. Hearing that they've been able to thrive is a sincere relief, and...a testament to their strength."
A gentle, musing sort of expression grew on his face as he continued. "Your resolve is the most fundamental part of your ideals, you know. It determines how far you're willing to go for the world you want to create. Seeing the determination they showed to find the truth that day has only bolstered my own resolve towards my duties...namely, my guiding principle to conduct the most thorough investigation possible, by any means necessary." A radiant grin cut across his face, and his fist pumped in a triumphant gesture. "I don't care if they say I'm contravening department regulations!"
If Soseki had any more capacity to assert himself, he might've argued that he should've cared at least a little bit...but as it was, he considered himself a man of very little confidence, and getting to see it firsthand always entranced him. He nodded fervently, in rapt agreement. "Y-yes! Yes! And I need to be a writer! I-I will be a writer!" His arm shot out in a victorious thrust, mirroring the detective's own bombastic movement. "I don't care if they say I lost my mind in England!"
"A writer? ...It sounds like you're striving to find a truth of your own, Natsume-san." Hosonaga said, beaming with a smile that was soft yet undeniably warm, in sharp contrast to the polished neutrality of his appearance. Comforting, at a glance, and yet something at the back of Soseki's mind couldn't help but grumble. Why'd he always seem to find himself surrounded by toweringly tall, acutely good-looking, relentlessly charismatic men? Self-consciousness had a way of hounding him, and they certainly weren't helping.
"Yes, well, I am...endeavoring to be an author. I've been working on my first chapter on the voyage over, but...it's difficult." He ran a hand through his hair, speaking hastily; writer's block hadn't been the problem, but it would've been less embarassing if it was. "I-I haven't been able to hold a pen steady, for the most part."
"A lofty goal." If the detective had noticed his sheepishness, he wasn't showing it. "What's your book going to be about?"
"Ah, well―" Soseki placed his hands on his lapels and closed his eyes, feeling a frisson of excitement at the prospect of deploying the pitch he'd mentally rehearsed for situations such as this. In his head, the conversation usually went along the lines of 'I'm something of a writer myself', 'oh, what are you working on', 'ah, a mere trifle, you see―', 'why, that's fascinating' and so on. "―it's a satirical tale narrated by a cat, watching the foibles of human existence, especially those of his master; an unremarkable man with ambition but little talent, who obsesses relentlessly of other peoples' opinion of him."
"Ah, I see." Hosonaga nodded, then, with heart-piercing sincerity, followed up: "...You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, you know."
...The conversations he'd planned out in his head very rarely went according to plan, but this particular reply took him down a side-alley he hadn't anticipated. A furious flush flew to his face. "I-it's not about―it's a satire!" Hosonaga nodded again, this time in the immensely polite way of someone who was fine with letting him think that. Cloth crumpled in his fists as his teeth gritted, but before he could dive further into defensiveness, the sailor-detective turned to face him.
"You seem quite steady on your feet now. It looks like the outing helped, didn't it?" His calm voice washed the indignance from his heart. Soseki blinked, throwing a few glances around himself.
"What? Oh, yes, I suppose... " He wouldn't have noticed it himself, but as Hosonaga mentioned it, the world seemed distinctly less wobbly than it had only half an hour ago.
"I'm glad to hear it. And..." He drew back from the ship's railing, standing tall and at attention. "With your permission, I'd like to continue checking in on you during this voyage." Thoughts trickled into the detective's head, one by one, of that day from a few months ago. The noise, the sight, the duty he'd neglected. He drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with the reclusive scholar before him. "I failed to see one of my countrymen safely to England, but...I hope I will, at least, be able to see one of them safely to Japan."
Soseki found himself moderately struck by the intensity in the man's gaze, aimed unflinchingly in his direction, but...noticeably clear of the edges of contempt or disdain he'd gotten used to identifying in members of law enforcement. A fair share of the police force had resolved to hunt him down, but this was the first time in his life one of them would be going out of their way to protect him. He felt some sort of...unnervingly warm, prickling fuzz take root in his chest. "Well, um―yes. Yes, of course." He coughed, trying to reel his expression back to his best attempt at academic aloofness. "A-After all, I've made up my mind to share my tale with my countrymen."
His nervousness was clearly evident, but Hosonaga didn't pry into it. A soft smile and a moment of silence, before he continued. "There's one more thing...I've noticed that, whenever plates return from your room, they're only ever half-empty. It occurred to me that some of that must go to feeding your cats." A piercing glare richocheted off his glasses, which, as he tilted his head, yielded to showing his concerned eyes below. "Have you been eating at all?"
"W-Well, I..." Any academic aloofness would falter when faced with such motherly interrogation. He twiddled his fingertips and rubbed idly at stray strands of his hair, turning away. "...with the nausea, I haven't been able to stomach much..."
The detective shook his head slowly. "Oh dear...that won't do, I'm afraid. If I am to act as your bodyguard, I need to protect you from threats of all angles, both inside and out." He gave a curt nod, straightening his back into a perfectly poised posture. "I'll be joining you for dinner tonight."
His eyes widened, taking in Hosonaga's entirely deadpan expression. A deep breath surged into his lungs, about to protest at his presumptuous proposal, but...the words left him, and his thoughts tangled. Their first meeting hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot, but there seemed to be a straightforward, upstanding man hiding underneath that blank countenance. And even at the best estimate, thirty-six days remained in their voyage; a needlessly long time to spend on his own. Privacy was one thing, but...why was he so instinctively inclined to fight tooth and nail for loneliness? Staring into the man's stoic face, he drummed his fingers on the railing, eyes shifting to the side.
"I'd...appreciate that, yes." He finally replied. And, in case the extended pause had been perceived as discourteous, pressed on with a mumble: "I will say...among the various detectives I've met, you're certainly the most tolerable."
There was no response, but perhaps none was necessary. Hosonaga gave a soft smile, and their gazes joined towards the melding blue of heaven and sea.
A little bit of companionship did wonders for helping hours fade into days, ticking away at an unyielding month. The ocean still expanded infinitely on all sides, ever-stretching into a vast horizon, but...with daily conversation in a shared language, the motherland felt a little bit closer.