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Barok could hear the riotously loud voice clearly even before ascending the rickety steps up to the attic. They weren’t words he could understand, though he didn’t need to to deduce what was going on. He’d heard this man’s drunken shouts several times in the past. It was just how he behaved after at least one glass of wine. And judging by his tone, he was undoubtedly bragging about something again.
When his head cleared the attic floor, Barok could see the scene he predicted. Asougi was sitting in front of the lit furnace in the room, an arm slung over the shoulders of his best friend, laughing and jostling him around. This was probably the happiest Barok had ever seen him - in the presence of the right company, it was possible, he supposed. It seemed like they’d been sitting on some cushions, but they’d just about completely slid off of them. It felt almost a shame to disrupt their fun, but it was something he had to do. Or try to do. He didn’t ride a carriage all the way over here late in the evening for no reason.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he cleared his throat. It was both surprising and unsurprising that Asougi immediately noticed. He turned his head, and upon the sight of Barok, his expression dropped from a confident grin to confused bewilderment. His companion also turned to look, dazedly. Asougi exclaimed something in Japanese - Barok noticed the split second pause after the uttered words as he switched gears.
“What are you doing here?!” He seemed like he was trying to sober up by sheer will. Well, just by seeing this reaction, it was clear that he wasn’t too drunk. Yet.
“It’s nothing too urgent,” Barok reassured. Those words, after processing, made Asougi relax again. He let out a crabby groan, rubbing the bridge of his nose, before reaching for a familiar wine bottle sitting beside him.
“Please open with that next time,” he grumbled, pouring himself another drink.
“With all due respect, I did,” Barok sighed. Hm, that was strange. Despite his loudness earlier, and even though Barok knew he was a lightweight to a pathetic degree, Asougi really wasn’t all that drunk. And yet, the bottle was nearly empty.
“Uhm, good evening,” Naruhodou spoke up, giving Barok a polite nod. He seemed perfectly normal, British English intact. Maybe less nervous than how Barok remembered him, though that could just be a change brought to him through time. The prosecutor nodded back.
“Good evening, Mr Naruhodou. It has been a while.”
A pause. Naruhodou stared for an uncomfortably long second, mouth hanging open. Then, he donned that signature nervous, sheepish look of his.
“I-I’m sorry…have we met before?”
“Hah?!” Asougi snorted loudly - thankfully right before he took another sip of wine, otherwise he’d be choking and coughing for the next five minutes. “Just how drunk are you, Naruhodou?!” His friend looked so confused.
“H-HUH?! I’m so sorry!”
“Stop apologising!”
“Sorry!!”
Barok closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his palm. Ah. So he was the drunk one here. What a peculiar type of drunk he was, to behave so stably.
“That’s Sir van Zieks!”
“Ehhh…” Naruhodou narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the floor as he rubbed his chin. “That name sounds so familiar…where have I heard it before…” As he pondered, he lifted up his empty wine glass to be filled. Asougi threw him a look, picked up the bottle, swirled it to analyse its remaining volume, and reluctantly emptied it into the glass - it filled less than half of it.
“…Please don’t worry about it,” Barok finally insisted with a faint grimace. Memories of him would certainly bring unpleasantries, and he didn’t want to sour the mood. His eyes followed the wine bottle - it was a vintage, retrieved from his personal cellar. A perfect bottle to give as a gift and one that he’d handed over to Asougi for the occasion of his best friend’s next visit. “I trust that the wine was to your liking.”
“Ah, yes! It’s very tasty!” Naruhodou smiled dreamily against his glass. A thought hit him a second later, and he blinked at Barok. “Oh! Did you make it?! You’re so talented, sir!”
“N-no…” Barok really didn’t know how to talk to this man right now. Not that he ever knew how to. But he got distracted anyway, staring at Asougi who’d just drained his own glass within seconds and feeling immediate concern. You fool, you drank that far too fast. Dear God. Barok knew now that he was on a very limited timer. “Mr Asougi. I needed to have a word with you.”
“Oh. Right.” Asougi looked like he realised he’d just made a mistake. But of course it was brief - the look disappeared as he leaned comfortably on Naruhodou, pulling the best solemn, attentive expression that he could in spite of his flushed cheeks. “What is it?”
“Inspector Lestrade reported a new lead this evening. It seems we finally have a suspect, and a case against him - I will need your assistance in building it. I apologise for the short notice, but I expect you at the office on the morrow.” The truth was, Barok had hoped to bring Asougi back to the office right at that hour, but in this state, he knew it was impossible. His student sighed - this news was a little sobering as well. He looked like he needed another glass of wine.
“Understood, I’ll be there.”
Naruhodou was looking between them with fascination in his eyes, taking periodic little sips of what was left in his glass. “…Do you work together?! That’s amazing, Asougi!” Asougi seemed like he forgot that his friend was there for a moment. He couldn’t help a snort, or resist a grin, despite it all.
“Everything’s amazing to you, aibou. Good grief, you’re so drunk.”
“I’m not! I can go for one more!”
“You drank it all already!”
“Huh?! Oh no!!” He stared at the tiny bit of wine left at the bottom of his glass, looking sad. “It was so good though…ah! Wine-making sir!” Naruhodou looked to Barok hopefully.
“I did not make it,” he cut him off.
“What?! Who did, then?” The attorney looked so distressed. Asougi pressed his forehead against Naruhodou’s shoulder and burst out laughing. It seemed like that last glass of wine was really kicking in now. Naruhodou blinked owlishly. “What!” Asougi clung to him for stability.
“You-- you are so--!!” Reverting back to Japanese couldn’t salvage his sentence, even Barok could tell.
“What!! Asougi, are you dying?! Don’t die on me!!”
Asougi choked out something that sounded vaguely like a complete statement.
“I didn’t intend to!! What did I even say?!”
More loud boisterous Japanese from Asougi as he got a grip. He got stuck with one language sometimes when he was drunk - at times, he frustratedly tried to communicate with Barok in Japanese despite both of them knowing full well that the Englishman hardly knew a single word of it. Naruhodou, however, seemed like he was stuck in English now. Barok could not fathom what it was like being bilingual, much less bilingual and drunk. In any case, listening to this one-sided (in his ears) conversation was giving him a headache, and his presence seemed forgotten to these two anyway. He took this as a chance to quietly excuse himself.
Bidding brief thanks and farewells to the amateur detective (who wasn’t wearing earplugs but was somehow too absorbed in his work to even notice Barok or the noise) and to the little Miss Watson (who was wearing earplugs but was kind and courteous enough to make up for everyone and everything), Barok stepped out of the flat and into the cold night with a heavy sigh.
He really should’ve just sent a telegram.