"Mr. Holmes, save my father, please help him..."

"Young master, that man is not going to help master," said the butler in a trembling voice. "He was the one who caught the master."

"What…"

As if betrayed, Arthur stared at the man in front of him with eyes that never be the same. A child who is no different from a white cloth doesn't know what's right or illegal. A little boy's little world, only his father and the one who took the boy's father away whoever or for what reason that person is the villain.

Sherlock Holmes knew. He knew sooner or later. Arthur will learn that he is the one who took away the boy's beloved father, and in that second, he is a bad guy in the eyes of a boy.

"Give my father back!!!"

A 7-year-old boy shouted through tears. Struggling to escape the butler's capture. Baron Irwin didn't even glance at his son. Arthur stood there looking at his father, who had been taken to the carriage without any conversation. Before the eyes of those who had lost the most important thing in life turned to Sherlock Holmes.

"You… traitor… I… will never… forgive."

The boy clenched his fist. He opened his mouth to speak but can't make it in a language because of anger. Sharp eyes stared at the hat man—the moment when reason or accuracy cannot be judged. The boy flicked away from the butler in the blink of an eye and charged towards Sherlock Holmes.

Pluck!!!

But before reaching the person who thought it was the cause of the boy's loss of father. The small figure was grabbed by the collar from the back and pulled off the ground.

"Let...let go, let me go!!!"

Arthur struggled to escape the grip of another man with silver hair and cold green eyes.

"Put him down, Watson," said Sherlock Holmes softly. His gaze was straight on the boy. "I am a detective. My duty is to reveal the truth and send the villain to be punished. I'm sorry that this intention will never be shaken. Otherwise… I wouldn't be called a detective."

Sherlock Holmes said in a firm voice. Although Arthur will not accept it for the rest of his life.

"Let's go," Holmes turned to Watson.

Arthur stared at the back as Holmes walked away with tears in his eyes. The boy clenched fist shout with the loudest voice.

"I will never ever forgive you!!!"

........................................................................

At the same time that Sherlock Holmes and Watson leave Baron Irwin's manor. A pair of emotionless eyes gazed upon Baron Irwin's capture operations from start to finish from the top of the tree. The green bushes concealed his body so that no one noticed. The eyes looked until a young man wearing a hat and a silver-haired man boarded the carriage. The man continued to stare at the emptiness of the place where the hat-wearing man used to be. His lips twitched in a few words that were engulfed in the sound of the wind that shook the leaves.

"Why didn't you follow the plan?"

........................................................................

The river never stops flowing just as time moves forward without ever turning back.

The water of the Thames flows through many cities. From Oxford, Reading to London and into the vast North Sea.

It will be good if sorrow could flow out of the heart as easily as a river...

The young man in the hat revealed a faint smile at his own thought before turning to speak to the silver-haired man who was following him.

"You can go back first, Watson. I'll be here for a while."

Sherlock Holmes spoke and walked forward a little more to get a clearer view of the River Thames. He let the wind blow, and the coolness of the river hit his body.

‘I will never ever forgive you!!!’

The boy's words still echo in his head. Sherlock Holmes was neither sad nor regretful. Because he believed in his own actions. Even though many times, the good relationship that arises has to be cut off. But it was something he couldn't escape. He had to be strong enough to bear this matter.

Even though he said he was not sad but not in a good mood to smile or laugh. So, he stood and looked at the flowing river, letting the wind blow away the uneasiness in his chest.

But he wasn't standing alone...

"You can go back first."

Sherlock Holmes smiled. Even without turning to look, he could clearly feel that behind him was a silver-haired man standing.

Watson didn't say anything. including not moving anywhere.

"When the sunsets. I'll be back." Holmes continued to speak chatter.

"I'm your partner," Watson said softly with deep eyes. "Even if you stand here until the sun rises or sunset, I will be with you."

Simple words that are absolutely true, summoning a smile to Holmes's face until he felt warmth throughout his heart.

"Staying here until the sun rises, sure get a fever." Sherlock Holmes turned around with a clear expression on his face. Said to his partner,

"Let's go home."

If he doesn't have a partner, he probably wouldn't have experienced this feeling. Holmes thought happily. Then the thought stopped.

‘If he hadn't had a partner, he probably wouldn't have experienced this feeling.’

Is there something a little wrong with this idea?...

........................................................................

Three days later, in the attic of a house on Baker Street.

Sherlock Holmes leaning against a stack of books high above his head. Eyes focus on reading the letters in the book. Even though it was daytime now, the sky seen through the window was dark. London rains a lot, but it's raining even harder these days. In a time when no client, the young man was often engaged in research in the attic. He focused on something until he forgot to eat and sleep and end up got scolded by Watson.

Knock...Knock...

The page flipped over to another page. The person sitting didn't seem to hear the sound of the knocking at all.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

When the knock sounded louder than before, Sherlock Holmes finally notice. He heard a strange noise coming from behind himself or from the attic window behind the stack of books he was leaning on. Holmes turned towards the source of the voice. The sight he saw shocked the young man until he couldn't think of anything.

On the other side of the window, to put it more clearly, there was a tall man on the roof of the house. He has shoulder-length black hair, looked down at him with dark green eyes.

"............"

Holmes moved his mouth to softly call out the other's name. Amidst the roar of thunder but those on the other side of the window heard. The eyes looked down at Holmes and shifted his gaze to the bolts of the window. Outside, the wind blew so hard that his suit fluttered violently. But Holmes was still half kneeling on the ground, not moving.

In the blink of an eye, lightning flashed until everything turned white.

"Ah... I open it now." Holmes blinked as if consciously. Then stretched out his hand to open the window latch. "Step back to the side," he told the black-haired man because the window was a push-in type.

The other nods his head in understanding. Use one hand to hold the roof's edge and turn to the side. When the window opens, he turned around and used his eyes to ask permission to enter.

"Come in," Holmes nodded.

The attic has low ceilings, so it can't stand up to full height. When combined with a room full of books, research equipment, Mr. Adam human skeleton, and many more samples. When another man taller than Holmes gets in, it no space to sit and leaning comfortably or stretch legs even more. But the newcomers had no problem with the kneeling, bend posture. The calm, adult-looking eyes continued to silently stare into the black eyes of the owner of the room.

"Why are you here…no, how did you get out of there?" Holmes asked.

"I am officially allowed to come out into the regular society to complete my mission," a low, slightly hoarse voice answered. Dark eyes fixed on Holmes.

"My target is you...Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock Holmes remained silent with a speechless expression on his face. Then the black-haired man in front of him reached into the pocket of his suit. Take out yesterday's newspaper. The headlines reported the raid on the mansion south of the Thames and stole the lady's dearest diamond.

"You are interested in this case. I know you follow any event related to diamonds. Including an organization that hunts diamonds."

Holmes narrowed his eyes at the newspaper he had yesterday. As he thought about how many days the man in front of him had been spying on him. Even knowing that he was following the news of an organization that was looking for diamonds. Which was even before they met, then Holmes replied in a disinterested tone.

"The one who stole was a hypocrite servant in that mansion. And the Lady's diamond is not the type of diamond the organization wants."

The man nodded his head.

"So true Just a moment ago, Scotland Yard had just captured that servant. And that Lady got her diamond back and closed the case successfully. I'm here to report this to you before tomorrow's newspaper releases." the man said softly. The intent was to keep Holmes from wasting time following this news and focusing on other matters.

Sherlock Holmes was speechless. An embarrassment spread on a face that looked younger than his age. Black eyes lowered, ears heard a screeching noise. When he turned to look at the gloomy sky outside, he found that it had been raining, and it seemed to be getting harder and harder.

Several seconds in silence, no pressure or fidget atmosphere, but Holmes felt uncomfortable anyway. Not knowing what to say, he thought of another man's face—someone with a similar atmosphere to the black-haired man before him. Even the eyes were the same color but not all the same, totally different person. That made Holmes calm and raised his head to meet the other's eyes.

"You should go back. The answer remains the same."

The tall figure lowered his gaze, "Alright," he said briefly, stepping on the window sill. One hand held the edge of the roof. The wind blew the raindrops on his body until the suit became damp, but he didn't care. Dark green eyes turned to Sherlock Holmes in a meaningful way, and the next moment, his body disappeared from the house.

Holmes looked at the man that had disappeared without a trace then stretched out his hand to pull the window to close the bolt as usual.