Love and War

A/N (in which I weep profusely and beg for forgiveness): Yay, chapter six. Sorry it took forever (forgive me? *gives a cute, innocent pout*), but I finally got to the point where I could post it. You can blame exams and dorm life for the delay. And crappy internet connections that never want to work. >< Grrrr… So, yeah, fun times…

This is the longest chapter I’ve posted so far. Chapters eight and nine are pretty lengthy, too (I think seven is actually a little bit shorter than this one), and ten completely kicked my ass. So you’ve got lots to look foreword to whenever I get to posting regularly again (which all depends on how the writing schedule goes from here on out), although I’ve got eleven chapters almost done on my computer and still no war yet. >< Not much love, either. Oh, well, it’ll come eventually.

Anyway, reviews are much appreciated. Merci beaucoup!

Now on to chapter six, in which the Aristocrats make an important decision and the Shibuya’s go to Shin Makoku…

Love and War
by Mikage

Chapter Six

Wolfram stood with the others in the Palace of the Original King, feeling ill at ease from his place beside Yuuri. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to do this. He sincerely dreaded what he knew was about to happen.

They’d all gathered for the first of the two marriage ceremonies, he and Yuuri standing together upon the platform that had once been the resting place of the four forbidden boxes, Ulrike and the Great Sage close by, while the Aristocrats formed a line before them. Everyone else, his mother and father, Conrart, Greta, and a few other people - some of the priestesses mostly - stood behind them, closer to the door of the darkened chamber than the raised dais.

Even with all the other people currently in the room, he felt completely alone. It wasn’t a new feeling at all, but one he’d been carrying around for years now, longer even than the time Yuuri had spent in this world, before Julia had died and Conrart had been sent to earth, many years before the birth of his future husband. It was not something he liked to admit to anyone, even to himself, that he suffered from such an emotion. How could he when he had so many people around him, maids and guards to heed his beck and call, a mother who loved him and two older brothers who took care of him?

Sometimes he wondered over the answer to that question, and the only possible one he’d been able to come up with was that he’d been born to feel such an emotion, that his destiny was decided at his conception and he’d been fated to this sort of life. It was not something he’d have chosen on his own, if he’d been aware or given the chance to change it. He hated feeling this way, thought it made him seem weak and unthankful. Here he was, living a life of absolute luxury and hating it, while others were out there struggling to find some means of survival.

He’d always despised this sort of life, though he’d never said so to anyone, only to Yuuri, and even the black haired boy was not completely aware of how much he’d like to make some sort of an escape. Being coddled and doted on was enjoyable for a while, but at the same time the expectations that were placed on him were almost more than he could bear. He’d spent so much of his life learning the art of majutsu and training to improve his swordsmanship, and for what? To fight for those who couldn’t have cared less for his safety?

He supposed he should be happy to be giving it all up now, only to find that he wasn’t. He knew he should be. No longer would he be expected to sacrifice himself on the battlefield, or even to protect their beloved king, a task he’d lived for and put his whole heart into for the past four years. He should be rejoicing over the fact that these things would no longer be expected of him, and although he’d spent most of his life resenting the fact that he had to protect so many people who didn’t even know what he looked like, possibly didn’t even know his name, now that he was faced with this wedding, this meaningless marriage, he’d give anything to go back to how things used to be.

He’d spent his the entirety of his life striving to acquire the respect his older brothers had gained effortlessly. He hadn’t wanted to be thought of as Little Lord Brat, Lady Celi’s Youngest, or Lord von Voltaire’s Brother. He’d wanted to make a name for himself, to be known as Wolfram and not as some spoiled child who happened to live within the palace walls. He wanted others to look up to him, wanted to be treated as an equal, not as some pathetic child who threw a fit every time he didn’t get his way.

He didn’t want to earn that sort of dignity by simply taking on the title of Prince. He wanted to work for it, to earn it, to make it mean more than it did now.

Green eyes gazed out over the line of men and women in front of him, not glaring as was usual for him when faced with so many distrusting faces. He simply glanced over them, taking in the sight before him as if to store it in his memory, though he doubted he’d ever be able to forget this no matter how long he happened to live. Being tied to the man he loved with bonds of duty instead of affection was a memory he’d never be able to lose, for even if his mind were to lose track of the event with age, his heart would be scarred forever.

The Aristocrats starred back up at he and the king with various looks of seriousness upon their faces. It was a normal enough appearance for Gwendal and a few of the others - most of them, actually - but to see Günter behaving so severely was very disconcerting - although he knew it shouldn’t be; Günter was, without a doubt, Shin Makoku’s most renowned swordsman after Conrart (and it was only through the training provided to him by his father and Lord von Christ’s tutelage that Weller had become so great), and Wolfram had been lucky enough to see him in action more than once before, so he was well aware of Günter’s ability to lose his eccentric demeanor when the need arose.

The three Lady Aristocrats were glowering, each looking more perturbed than the last, and Lord Julius did not seem pleased that this day had come so quickly. Wolfram couldn’t say he disagreed with the dark haired general, but he wished the ten nobles standing before them now would ease up at least a little, anything to make this moment, this ceremony seem less daunting. He was already nervous enough, and he knew that Yuuri had to be at least ten times more so. They could do without the Aristocrats’ spite and anger.

“Your Majesty,” Ulrike’s soft voice broke through the silence that had descended upon the chamber, her long silver hair trailing over the floor as she slowly approached them. Wolfram watched as the king turned to face her, the younger boy’s face nearly white with his nervousness, his own face in a similar state of colorlessness. “It is time.”

Wolfram’s heart sank at her words, and he could only continue to look at his fiancé as the double black nodded.

Whatever the Aristocrats said now would decide the course of his life from here on out. He would either continue on as Bielefeld’s pawn, or sell his soul to a kingdom who knew him only as a child - and to a man who refused to love him. Either way he would not be pleased, for both paths were equally as dark and lonely. It didn’t matter whether the Aristocrats chose to accept him as their prince or not; not one would think of him any differently, and his life would not change much from what it was now. His bonds to his king and country would only grow deeper, the chains surrounding him would only grow tighter.

“Aristocrats,” Yuuri’s voice then broke through the air, startling Wolfram with it’s evenness. For someone who looked as white as a ghost with trepidation, Yuuri’s voice was amazingly calm as he spoke the words he’d been told to memorize for this specific occasion, words that had been spoken by many kings and queens before him. Wolfram’s own mother had recited them twice (1). “I present to you the man whom I wish to wed. I ask that you grant him your respect and services as you have granted them to me, and give your consent for us to be married.”

Wolfram had always found this sort of ceremony to be extremely ironic. Here was the great Demon King, undoubtedly the most powerful man on the face of the planet, asking his subjects for the right to marry when all his other decisions would not have been questioned so. The Demon King could do whatever he wanted, sign whichever documents he chose no matter how it affected the economic stability of the kingdom, and send the troops to war for hardly any reason at all, and yet he could not marry whom he wished without the approval from those below him.

He knew, however, that this ceremony was a security precaution above anything else, a show of the Aristocrats’ importance within the country and the king’s dependence on their support, as well as a way to ensure that the kingdom did not fall into the wrong hands. When this ceremony had first been conducted long ago, it had been thought by the mazoku of that time that the King’s thoughts and feelings could be blinded by love (even more so than his thirst for power), and that it was their responsibility to open his eyes to the mistakes he would surely make.

Shinou’s presence as the true, supreme ruler of the land and lessened the importance of the ceremony, for if Shinou chose to allow the wedding to proceed then there was nothing the Aristocrats could do or say but go along with it. It had been believed that Shinou could see into the hearts of men anyway and could discover their true intentions, so his will had never been questioned (except, of course, with his approval of Lady Celi’s second husband, in which many of the Aristocrats had wondered over Shinou’s consent). With their all-knowing Original King no longer there with them, the duty of the Aristocrats had suddenly become even more important.

Emerald eyes strayed to his older brother, the first in the line of ten, to find sapphire eyes staring right back up at he and the young king, as serious as they’d ever been. “The territory of Voltaire supports this union,” he said, firm in his decision to see this wedding through, speaking no more than necessary, though it was acceptable for the Aristocrats to add whatever else they wished to their declaration.

Next was Lord von Mannheim, who looked at the future prince from his place below the platform, and although Wolfram had no clue as to the cause of the man’s hatred of the Bielefelds, his harsh feelings were directed towards him in a heated glare. “The territory of Mannheim supports this union,” he recited, though it appeared as if the words had to be forced out of his mouth, and he seemed to regret saying them once they’d been heard, though he added nothing else to his statement.

Beside him was Winifred von Yale, her well-aged face pulled into a stormy glower. Wolfram didn’t expect any kindness from her; he didn’t expect much kindness from any one of them, and so he was a bit surprised when she repeated that which had already been said. “The territory of Yale supports this union.”

Günter stood next to her, lavender hair spilling about his androgynous face. The words he spoke were to be expected. There was little Lord von Christ would do that went against his king in any way. “The territory of Christ supports this union.”

His uncle Auberon followed, and Wolfram was sure the negatives would start now. No matter what incentives were offered or promises made, there was nothing that could make his father’s older brother approve of him. The man had criticized him his whole life, and the blond haired boy didn’t expect anything less than that now. He’d grown up with the man constantly attacking his mother with vicious insults, was used to his glares of hatred as he was used to Gwendal’s looks of disapproval. Auberon would never willingly grant him the power that would lead him to outrank him; he would fight it for as long as he could, and in any way that he could.

“The territory of Bielefeld supports this union.”

Wolfram’s eyes widened at that, and he abruptly turned to face Yuuri, though it was rude for him to do so while the ceremony was going on. Confusion etched itself across his pale face, and when the black haired boy had nothing to say to his uncle’s consent, the blond turned back to look at his oldest brother, only to see Gwendal with the same expression he’d been wearing this whole time, not surprised in the least, as he should have been.

He looked across the room when Gwendal refused to have any other form of reaction, meeting his mother’s gaze, who appeared just as shocked as he felt at the moment.

What was going on? Why had Auberon agreed so easily?

It was only as he thought these questions that he realized his uncle had been the one seal his fate.

Five of the ten Aristocrats had already agreed; half was all that was needed.

“Don’t make me regret my decision, boy,” the elder Lord von Bielefeld added after a few tense moments of silence, speaking to Wolfram as he always did, as if he were nothing more than a little peasant boy doing his bidding, showing no amount of respect to his nephew who would very soon be crowned Prince.

Wolfram would have given anything to return with a scathing comment that would have put the older man’s honor in question, but he refrained from doing so. It was tradition for the king’s prospective spouse to remain silent during the ceremony, so as not to affect the decision in any way, though there wasn’t much that could change it now. Had this been less important, Wolfram would have gladly spat in his face.

Lady von Grantz was beside him, the woman who had taken the place of a traitor, and though her displeasure with the king had already been made known, her words did not divert from any of those that had been spoken thus far. “The territory of Grantz supports this union.”

It was at this point that the young mazoku noticed his second brother’s look of confusion. The brown haired man stood in the back with his mother, ex-step father and Greta, but Wolfram could easily see him even from his place on the opposite side of the dim chamber. Conrart’s hazel eyes were narrowed in what appeared to be deep thought, glancing over the line of men and women that separated him and Wolfram until his gaze rested on the imposing form of their older brother. There was suspicions in his light brown eyes, enough so that Wolfram’s pulse began to quicken.

The acceptance only continued, leading many of those not among the Aristocrats to develop looks of surprise. Even Ulrike appeared a bit shocked by their agreement. Surely one of them would have some sort of an objection. Wolfram would admit that there were many reasons why he could possibly be prevented from earning the title of Prince. He was most certainly not the most suited out of all the nobles’ children to assume the thrown.

“The territory of Wincott supports this union.”

“The territory of Spitzweg supports this union.”

“The territory of Karbelnikoff supports this union.”

Only Hassel remained at this point, and although it was required for Lady Griselda to speak her mind, there was nothing she could do to sway the decision one way or the other. More than half of the Aristocrats had already agreed, more than half of them had given the royal couple their permission. The decision had been made. Lady von Hassel speaking now had been reduced to nothing more than a formality.

“The territory of Hassel supports this union.”

Whispers broke out within the room, then, the priestesses talking quietly with one another, each of them with widened eyes, as if the Aristocrats’ agreement was something uncommon, something that had not happened in many years. It was the truth, Wolfram knew, and with Hassel’s permission granted he felt his heart suddenly stop within his chest, and though he’d know with his uncle’s consent that the wedding could now continue, only with Griselda’s statement did it all seem real.

There was nothing short of death that could prevent he and Yuuri from marrying now. Part of him was somewhat relieved; now that this was over and done with, they could continue on with the rest of the marriage - the most stressful part of the whole procedure had been completed. The rest of him was tied up in knots, his throat suddenly dry, his pulse quickening even more, so that he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He hadn’t thought it would happen like this. He hadn’t wanted it to happen like this.

He felt suddenly cold, his vision darkening around the edges as he tried to get his heavy breathing under control. He was working himself into a panic, knew he was, and yet he couldn’t stop it, though he was more than aware of how irrational it was for him to react to all of this in such a way. He had agreed to this, after all. He should have expected this outcome just as much as he’d expected the opposite. Both had been equally possible. There was no way either he or Yuuri would have been able to predict the outcome.

‘Yuuri…’

He turned to his fiancé as he thought of him, watching as the black haired boy did the same, dark eyes widening as they caught sight of him, and Wolfram thought he must have looked awful to earn the amount of worry that suddenly blossomed across the king’s face right then. Seeing Yuuri as he was, concern evident in his handsome visage, fear lighting his deep black eyes, Wolfram’s pulse only quickened further, and he found it more difficult to catch his breath than it rightly should have been.

What was happening to him? Why was he reacting in such a way? He’d been in numerous battles before, and though he’d never once fought in a war, he’d killed more than a handful of men in his life, had watched their blood as it’d trickled down his blade, had smelt the scent of death as it was carried upon the breeze. And yet he’d never had a reaction quite like this one, not even the first time he’d taken a life.

But then he’d never been so frightened of anything in his entire life. Funny that something so simple would be what scared him most of all.

The last thing he felt was the sensation of falling, like he suddenly couldn’t keep himself upright any longer - though he knew it was ridiculous to abruptly fall over like that - and the last thing he heard before a cloud of blackness consumed him was the worry in Yuuri’s voice as he called out his name.

* * *

The King of Shin Makoku stood by the side of the bed as Gisela tended to his friend, the green haired woman placing one of her pale hands over the noble boy’s forehead and casting her Maryoku in an effort to ease him back into consciousness, concern shining clearly within her own green eyes. He fidgeted nervously, having no clue as to what to do, but his desire to make sure that his friend was alright outweighed any of the anxiousness that would have otherwise kept him away from the younger looking boy.

He hadn’t had much time to react to the Aristocrats’ decision before he’d noticed Wolfram swaying slightly by his side, and had had even less time to ask the other young man if he were alright before the blond’s eyes had rolled back into his head and he’d begun to fall. Yuuri had only had a few seconds worth of time to catch him before Wolfram collapsed to the floor entirely, and he’d called out for Gisela immediately upon feeling the dead weight within his arms. He’d been momentarily frightened, wondering what could have possibly caused his friend to faint in such a way.

“Stress,” Gisela had said upon her first inspection, though Yuuri had to wonder if there was more to it that just that. The look on the other boy’s face right before he’d begun to sway off balance had been nearly panic-stricken, and the way his breathing had suddenly quickened with Lady von Hassel’s unexpected consent hadn’t been comforting in the least.

Gisela could claim stress all she wanted, but that didn’t mean Yuuri had to believe it. ‘Stress’ was the answer everyone always gave when they didn’t really know the true reasons for a mental or emotional breakdown.

After a few moments, Wolfram’s delicately close eyelids began to flutter, golden lashes brushing against pale cheeks as they moved - cheeks that were far paler than normal. The young blond groaned in discomfort, perhaps from an aching head which - Yuuri knew from experience - could possibly be a side effect from his passing out so suddenly. Yuuri had done his fair share of fainting after coming to this world, enough to know that coming out of a forced unconscious state was nothing like returning from a peaceful sleep.

The green haired medic smiled as emerald eyes finally slid open, staring up at her tiredly and with slight confusion gleaming within their depths. “It’s good that you’ve returned to us, Your Excellency,” she began good naturedly. “We were beginning to get worried.”

“What happened?” he asked with a soft groan, attempting to sit up in the bed he’d been placed in inside the walls of the Original King’s palace, Gisela moving to help him. Only when he was seated against the headboard with a few pillows behind his back did he notice Yuuri’s presence, and the king watched the flicker of emotions that darted across his face at the moment - panic again (though not as severe as last time), more confusion, and finally shame; most likely he was ashamed of having such a reaction in front of the dark haired boy, as if such things were unacceptable.

“You fainted,” Yuuri was the one who answered his question, unable to keep any of his worry from being heard in his voice. “Wolfram, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the paler boy replied, and Yuuri was sure that was meant to have been a snap, although it didn’t come out that way, Wolfram’s voice sounding somewhat strained.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Your Majesty,” Gisela reassured him as she straightened up, though her eyes remained upon the boy sitting up in the bed. “As long as His Excellency takes it easy for the remainder of the day, he’ll be perfectly fine,” she added, before she began moving towards the door. “I’ll inform the others that he’s awakened.”

Yuuri nodded to her statement, but didn’t turn to watch as she left the room, leaving he and Wolfram alone. Instead, his black eyes remained focused on his friend, trying to read whatever emotions he could. It was a hard task to accomplish when Wolfram refused to look him in the eye, instead staring off into space, his pale hands gripping tightly to the white sheets that had slid down his body to pool in his lap. His dress uniform had become somewhat wrinkled as he’d been carried into the room and placed in the bed, but Yuuri hardly thought that mattered at the moment, although he had a feeling that if Wolfram noticed the blond would immediately begin to try and straighten his clothing.

“Wolfram,” he called his name once he was sure Gisela was no longer around, knowing their time alone together would be limited once she’d told the others of Wolfram’s return to consciousness, as there would no doubt soon be a whole crowd of people in there to see if he were truly alright. “Wolfram, are you really okay?”

“Yes,” the soon to be prince of Shin Makoku forced out, ignoring his aching head and the steady increase of the beating of his heart.

“Then what happened back there? Why did you look so-” ‘Scared’ is what he would have said, but Wolfram cut him off before he could speak the word, perhaps knowing that’s what he was going to say and not wanting to hear it, not wanting to admit that they could feel such a thing as fear, and for something that seemed so unthreatening.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t say that,” Yuuri told him, determined to get him to talk, even if the words ended up being shouted in his face. Anything was better than Wolfram closing himself off. “It has to be something. Otherwise you wouldn’t have-”

“You don’t understand!” his friend finally raised his voice above a quiet mumble, not wanting Yuuri to mention the fact that he’d fainted or talk about the event any longer. The fact that it had even happened was embarrassing. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“What wasn’t?” Yuuri wondered, confused. “If it’s about you passing out, it’s no big deal. Gisela said you’re stressed,” he explained, though he still didn’t believe it himself. Sure Wolfram was most likely under a great deal of stress - Yuuri knew he himself was - but he’d been stressed before, and he’d never had a reaction quite like this one.

“It’s not that,” Wolfram said in return, green eyes narrowing as he glared across the room, his hands still clenching the bed sheets tightly, like it could prevent him from snapping any further and shouting at the darker young man.

“Then what is it?”

It took a moment for Wolfram to answer, and when he did it wasn’t what Yuuri had expected him to say. “The Aristocrats weren’t supposed to agree.”

Confused, the Demon King raised a dark eye brow, leaning down and in somewhat to try and get a better look at Wolfram’s face. When the blond moved to turn away from him, Yuuri placed a hand upon one of his shoulders, forcing him back around. “What do you mean?” he wondered, clueless as usual, although he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as his friend’s words replayed themselves in his mind. “What do you mean ‘the Aristocrats weren’t supposed to agree?’” he repeated his question.

“Exactly what I said,” the blond said shortly.

“But…” the Japanese man trailed off for a moment, trying to make sense of his friend’s statement on his own. “Wait… why? Are you…” he paused again, stuttering nervously. “Are you starting to… to regret this?”

He didn’t know why, but for some reason thinking that Wolfram could possibly be having doubts about this wedding made Yuuri’s heart hurt just a little. He could easily understand why Wolfram would feel that way, as he himself had been having seconds thoughts ever since he’d agreed, but thinking that Wolfram had been confident in his decision to go along with this had made it a little easier to accept. Knowing that Wolfram was as confused as he was wasn’t very comforting. He wanted Wolfram to be sure in his decision. He didn’t want to feel as if he were forcing the other boy into anything. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“No!” the blond haired mazoku eventually denied, shaking his head so that some of his golden bangs fell into his vibrant green eyes. “I mean…” and now he was stuttering as well, unable to come up with the right words to describe what he thought and how he felt. “No…” he denied again, although he didn’t sound a hundred percent sure of himself. “Yes… maybe…”

“But why?” Yuuri questioned again.

“You should already know the answer to that,” Wolfram replied quietly.

The black haired man was about to ask another question, even knowing full well that to do so would result in him being snapped at, since it was obvious that Wolfram truly did expect him to know the answer already. He could have said he didn’t, and for a moment he thought that was the truth, but it didn’t take long until it dawned on him, and he felt a little guilty for constantly forgetting Wolfram’s reasoning. The blond would probably never say it again, at least not as passionately as he had the night they’d first argued about all of this, but Yuuri couldn’t understand how he could possibly forget.

He opened his mouth to speak anyway, as if to make sure. “Is it because I don’t-”

A slow nod was the response he received, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

‘Because I don’t love you.’

It hurt him just to think it, to know that he was putting his friend through so much, but love wasn’t something he could just give out to anybody, not the kind of love Wolfram felt for him. He cared about the blond, cared about him so much it hurt sometimes - he missed him whenever he went to Earth, thought about him while he was with his other family, but then he thought of and missed everyone in this world when he was at home with his mom, dad, and older brother. Caring wasn’t what Wolfram wanted, though, wasn’t what he needed, and it hurt the most to know that he couldn’t give him that.

A part of him wanted to. He wanted his friend to be happy, he wanted to be able to return his feelings, if only to bring a smile to his face every once in a while, if only to ease the loneliness he knew the blond mazoku felt. He wanted to be fair, wanted so badly to make things right, but he knew that he couldn’t. He was too… too afraid; afraid of Wolfram, afraid of himself, afraid of what it would all mean. If he did love Wolfram, then it would mean that everything he’d ever thought, everything he’d ever believed in was wrong.

He couldn’t deal with that big of a change. Not now. Not yet.

“Wolfram, if you don’t want to do this…” he was finally able to speak again, though his sentence tapered off towards the end, unable to complete it. After they’d come so far, it wouldn’t be right to back out of it, he knew, not when the Aristocrats had given their approval, not when they were so close, not with the kingdom at stake.

The slighter male shook his head again. “No!” he snapped, then winced, as if he hadn’t meant to sound so angry. “No,” he repeated, softer this time. “I’ve already made my decision.”

“Were you hoping the Aristocrats wouldn’t agree, so that… so that you wouldn’t have to back out of it on your own?” Yuuri questioned him curiously, unable to deny that a small part of him had been wanting that very thing. At least then the two of them wouldn’t have been responsible for whatever would have happened.

“Partially,” Wolfram agreed. “A part of me wanted them to prevent it all from happening, and another part of me… another part of me wanted them to agree. But I don’t know what I wanted more.”

“Do you still want to marry me?”

“I’ve always wanted to marry you.”

Yuuri smiled, but it was a sad smile. It was amazing, he thought, how Wolfram never wanted to give up, no matter what happened, no matter how many obstacles stood in his way. It was comforting in a way, to know that Wolfram would always be there with him, whether he wanted him there or not. “That’s a lie,” he teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood, not wanting to see Wolfram so upset anymore. “You hated me when we first met.”

“And you hated me, so I guess we’re even.”

The king’s smile faltered at that, saddened by his words, his hand remaining against Wolfram’s shoulder. “I never hated you,” he said, looking back on that time in his life. He hadn’t liked the blond very much back then, had found his attitude somewhat annoying, but he’d never hated him. He couldn’t have even if he’d tried. “I… I think I was jealous of you.”

Curiously, Wolfram turned slightly to look up at him, confusion shining within emerald eyes, a thin golden brow raised in curiosity. “Why would you have been jealous?” he asked, not understanding what he could have that the demon king didn’t or couldn’t.

“Because you were never afraid of anything. You never gave up without a fight and… you knew who you were and what you believed in, and you stuck by it no matter what,” Yuuri told him, his own eyes staring down at the bed sheets now, somewhat embarrassed to be confessing all of this, though he didn’t know why he should be. It wasn’t like he was admitting his undying love or anything like that. “I was a coward.”

“That isn’t true,” the blond told him quietly, his cheeks taking on a pale pink hue. “Look at all the things you’ve done. No coward could have accomplished all that.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you and…” ‘The others’ is what he would have said, but he cut himself off this time, realizing that that wasn’t quite true. The others had certainly been very important to him; he didn’t know what would have become of him without Conrad’s guidance, or Gwendal’s own form of protectiveness.

It was Wolfram, though, that had been the most important, and he knew that for certain. When everyone else had been busy, when Conrad had been gone, and when no one else had understood, Wolfram had always been there to remind him that he was loved and cared for, that he wasn’t alone, by doing such simple things, things that had been more of an annoyance at the time but that he now looked back on with an understanding smile. A lot of times when Wolfram had called him a wimp had been to distract him from everything else that was going on, knowing that he’d retort with the much used phrase ‘Don’t call me a wimp,’ and that everything would be forgotten in their youthful bickering.

Wolfram had been with him though everything, from the time he’d first arrived at the castle ‘till the day he’d left, and from the day he’d returned until now. It was comforting, to know that all he had to do was look over his shoulder to see him there, following him everywhere, over mountains and across the seas, it didn’t matter. It there was one thing he was most confident about in this world, it was Wolfram’s presence. It had become so normal, so predictable, and it was reassuring.

“You’re very special to me, you know,” the demon king spoke softly, his own face heating up somewhat as the words tumbled from his mouth. It wasn’t that he hadn’t meant to say them, it was just that even confessing that much was a bit disconcerting. To know that he cared for someone on that level… it was frightening.

“I know,” the future mazoku prince agreed, a sad little smile crossing his face again.

Yuuri lowered his hand from his friend’s shoulder then, slowly reaching out to take one of his pale hands into his own, clutching it tightly, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He’d give anything in the world if, just once, Wolfram’s smile actually reached his eyes.

“Promise me you won’t regret this,” he requested then, though he knew that no matter what Wolfram said in reply, there would always be doubts between them. There wasn’t anything that could ever take those away, no matter how much time passed our how their relationship changed. Yuuri suspected that even if he did one day return the three words Wolfram had said to him on more than one occasion, the doubts would still remain.

“Only if you promise you’ll never stop being such a wimp,” Wolfram retorted, his attempt at returning things to normal, or as close to normal as they could possibly be.

The black haired young man smiled again, but it wasn’t one of his wide, cheesy smiles at all, but a sad one, almost identical to the one Wolfram continued to wear. “I think that’s a promise I can easily keep.”

Pathetic, he thought, that that was the only promise he seemed capable of keeping.


* * *

Yuuri sputtered as he pushed himself out of the water, coughing a bit and lifting a hand to brush some of the liquid drops off of his face and out of his eyes, his dark bangs dripping in front of him, a stray bead hanging at the tip of his nose, falling away only seconds later.

He felt a little dizzy from the short journey, but it wasn’t anything that impaired him for longer than a minute. After years of traveling between worlds by way of a churning whirlpool of water, he’d grown used to such means of transportation and no longer suffered from any unwanted side affects. Once he’d taken a few moments to collect his breath and force some air back into his lungs, the nineteen year old pushed himself to his feet, carefully stepping out of the small pool in the back yard of his house on Earth.

After coming to this world in search of the fourth and final box, his parents had kept the pool set up and filled with water for him to use to make the trip to and from Shin Makoku. It was convenient, a much better method that going through the bathtub or a sink, and preferred over being sucked into a black vortex down a toilet bowl again. The only thing he still complained about after all this time was the fact that he had to go through liquid, which left him soaked to the bone every time he resurfaced. Many times he’d contemplated forgoing clothing, and had on a few occasions, but that always brought a little more embarrassment than he felt like subjecting himself to.

Another week had gone by in Shin Makoku since the arrival of the two Bielefeld brothers, with just a few more days remaining until the evening of the wedding ceremony. Yuuri was still as nervous as he’d been every day these last three and a half weeks. He already had a swarm of butterflies flying around in his stomach, couldn’t even think about the wedding without becoming queasy. Each new day brought him to another level of anticipation, his anxiousness rising with every sunrise, keeping him awake late at night and depriving him of sleep, leaving his nerves frazzled and strained.

The Aristocrats had given their blessings just the day before with a unanimous vote in Wolfram’s favor. Both he and the blond Mazoku had been exceedingly surprised by this turn of events - as had both Conrad and Celi, who’d appeared taken aback by the rather shocking ruling. They’d all expected Bielefeld and Yale to voice some sort of an objection, out of spite if they didn’t have a good reason for doing so, but not a word had been spoken besides “We support this union,” and all those who had gathered for the ceremony in the Palace of the Original King had been stunned to silence.

It had been the first unanimous voting amongst the Aristocrats in two hundred years.

At the King’s inquiry, Gwendal had spoken of a meeting they’d had one night after dinner where he and Günter had managed to convince them of the wedding’s necessity. Yuuri secretly wondered if the taller man had threatened them all in order to force them into agreement, but he figured it didn’t really matter as long as things were still going according to plan. Regardless of the oddity of it, the Aristocrats’ agreement would only make things easier in the end, and hopefully bring less stress to the dark haired youth. Now there was at least one less thing for him to worry about.

The remainder of their guests had been arriving one after the other over the course of the last seven days, filling the palace to maximum capacity so that almost all of the guest rooms were now currently occupied. The servants were constantly busy, rushing down the halls with sheets to clean and laundry to hang on the clothesline outside. The number of guards stationed within the castle had doubled as a safety precaution. So far, there hadn’t been any problems that were life threatening, just a few minor disputes that were easily handled by those involved, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

The last people who were set to arrive were his family, all of whom he’d yet to even tell that there was going to be a wedding. He supposed it was more than a little inconsiderate of him to keep such information from them, but with how busy he’d been recently and with everything that was happening in Shin Makoku these days, it had almost completely slipped his mind. He hadn’t been home at all in a little more than two months, too consumed with work and preparations to make even a short trip.

Not that he actually relished the idea of telling his family; he could only imagine what his mother’s reaction would be to the news.

“Yuu-chan!”

‘Speak of the devil,’ the young king thought with a light laugh, stepping out of the kiddy pool just as his mother burst out the back door, a large smile stretching across her pretty face at the sight of him.

With Shinou’s demise had come a regularity in both time periods, so that the weeks and months that he was away passed by the same on Earth and Shin Makoku. He’d always assumed that it had been the Original King’s powers that allowed time to stand still while he was attending to his duties, and although Ulrike had told him that he could just as easily do the same with the power of his own magic should the desire strike him, Yuuri found that it was easier simply to leave things as they were. Of course that meant that those in the Earthen realm were now aware of his disappearances, but his family was more than understanding.

And somehow, whether it was through maternal instinct or not, Jennifer always knew exactly when her youngest son returned, and could be counted on to be there with a warm, affectionate greeting.

“Hi, Mom,” he replied to her squeal of excitement, allowing her to hug him tightly, failing to remind her that he was dripping wet since she’d never seemed to care before.

“You’re just in time for dinner! I’m making curry!” she happily announced - as if it were the most spectacular dish she’d ever made and this was really a once in a lifetime occasions, when she made it at least once a week. “Go up to your room and get changed,” she continued as she began to usher him inside the house. “It’ll be ready by the time you come down. You have such perfect timing. I wish Papa could be more like you when it comes to getting home at a decent hour.”

“Is Dad still at work?” Yuuri asked.

Jennifer sighed in exasperation, but said, “No, tonight he’s actually early, which is becoming rare nowadays. He’s on the couch watching the television.” She pointed in the direction of the man and electronic devise in question, shaking her head at how high the volume had been turned up to.

“What about Shori?”

“On the computer.”

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to sigh, inwardly telling himself that he shouldn’t have even had to ask. ‘Twenty-four years old and he still secludes himself in his room and spends all his time on his computer. I wish my life as king was that simple.’

Quickly he trotted up the stairs, stopping only momentarily to wave and greet his father with “Hey, Dad,” - the older man also not seeming very surprised to see him out of the blue. Once he’d made it to the second floor, he stuck his head into his older brother’s room just long enough to announce his presence, before he was walking into his own room and stripping out of his clothes. He pulled a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of one of the drawers in his dresser, slipping both articles of clothing on before bringing his wet uniform down to the laundry room, where he left it on top of the drier.

Just as Jennifer had said, the table was set and the food was ready to be served when Yuuri reentered the kitchen, and his mom began to fill all four plates as they sat down in their respective seats. Here, at least, everything remained as normal as it always had been. His parents had grown used to him randomly popping up for unexpected visits, so they were not longer as surprised as they used to be when he’d suddenly rise up out of the water. Shori spent a good deal of his own time away as well, busy tending to his own set of duties, so his other brother probably didn’t even notice how much time went by before they saw each other again.

The sense of normalcy he felt as the four of them began eating his mother’s curry was relaxing, and it managed to help him take his mind off of his troubles as they updated him on the things that had been happening in this world since his last trip home. Nothing much seemed to have changed; things were as peaceful on Earth as he’d always remembered them being, making him almost a bit reluctant to have to return to the drama going on in the alternate world. He frowned as he thought of how easy his brother had it compared to the difficulties he was facing now, and for a second he wished he could trade places with him.

“So, how are things in Shin Makoku, Yuu-chan?” Jennifer asked when there was a slight lull in the conversation, her brown eyes sparkling with interest. “Have you been on anymore daring adventures? Saved a village from a devastating flood? Fed starving children? Rescued a damsel in distress?”

Yuuri shook his head to each of her questions, though he would have rather dealt with all of that than so much as think about marriage and the armies slowly closing in on their borders. Some sort of an adventure would have been a welcome distraction, but there were too many tasks that needed to be completed at the palace to go anywhere. Flooding really wasn’t that big of an issue with summer ending and autumn leading into winter, the stormy season coming to a halt. The percentage of homeless and starving persons in their country had decreased significantly, so that widespread famine was really no longer a problem, and the closest he’d come to rescuing a damsel had been helping to work a splinter out of little Elle’s hand.

Instead he had his advisors coming to him multiple times a day with information concerning Shimeron and the kingdom’s Belal had signed treaties with. New intelligence was pouring in by the day thanks to both Yozak and Hube and their stunning information networks. The only thing he’d heard being discussed over the last few weeks that did not directly tie into the wedding was their problems with Shimeron. It had been mentioned so much recently that he was almost tired of hearing about it. Gwendal and the other kept informing him of Belal’s every move, as if that were enough to change his mind about going to battle.

There wasn’t anything that could change his mind, but everyone else didn’t seem to understand that. Did they not understand the word ‘pacifism?’

“Things suck,” he replied honestly, earning looks of concern from all who were present. “There’s a lot of crap going on right now that I don’t know how to deal with,” he said with another deep sigh, poking at the food he suddenly had no appetite for.

“Like what?” Shori asked, curious. He having been to Shin Makoku before made him a little knowledgeable of the happenings that occurred there, so he knew that when his younger brother was upset about something concerning his kingdom then it must be big.

“Greater Shimeron is stirring up a lot of trouble,” Yuuri answered the older king. “Lesser Shimeron and Caloria are already under their control, and Franshire’s recently been occupied. It’s all a part of their plan to destroy the Mazoku, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Franshire?” Jennifer wondered, tilting her head to the side. “Is that like France?”

“No, Mom. It’s a tiny country with a small military force. They didn’t stand a chance against Shimeron and now they’re being oppressed and made to fight against us.”

“Sounds like things have become pretty dangerous,” Shouma observed gravely.

“I hope you’re being careful, Yuu-chan!” Jennifer told her youngest son.

“Of course,” he said in return, not wanting them to worry too much about his predicament. “We’ve got soldiers and guards patrolling the capital and the castle halls at all times. I’m perfectly safe.”

“What about Wolf-chan? Greta-chan?” she continued, concerned about the granddaughter she’d met a few times when Yuuri had brought the young girl with him. “Conrad? Gwendal? That pretty man with the purple hair?”

“Yes, everyone’s fine,” he reassured her. “Conrad, Gwendal, and Günter can take care of themselves, Greta’s got formidable protection, and Wolfram’s...” he paused, thinking of his blond fiancé. “Well... no one would bother him if they wanted to stay in the land of the living.”

“Yuu-chan!” his mother instantly shot him a look of disapproval. “Don’t be so mean! Wolf-chan’s a baby doll!” she insisted, pouting slightly as she went on. “How come you didn’t bring him with you? I’ve still got to take him shopping! I saw a few outfits the other day that would look adorable on him!”

“Mom, I really don’t think he wants to play dress-up with you. Besides, he’s got more important things to do back in Shin Makoku.”

“You’re no fun!”

“Well, I’m sorry, I just...” he sighed once again. He hadn’t meant to sound mean at all; disappointing his loving mother had never been his intention, but with the amount of stress he was now under it was sometimes hard to prevent himself from sounding frustrated or annoyed. “I’ve just got a lot of things on my mind right now.”

“Are things that bad there?” Shouma inquired. At the same time, Shori asked, “Are you at war?” with an expression on his face that said he was prepared to go and protect his little brother if that was indeed the case.

“No, we’re not at war, and it’s not just the problems with Shimeron that are bothering me,” Yuuri answered both questions at once. “Wolfram and I...” he trailed off for a moment, his black eyes gazing down at the table top and the food still covering a third of his plate. “We’re getting married,” he finally said, refusing to look up and witness any of their reactions.

Silence filled the air for a couple of seconds, as if the other three members of the Shibuya household were trying to think of something to say to that.

“We know that, Yuu-chan,” Jennifer eventually responded, sounding as happy as she always did. “You’ve been engaged for years now.”

“That’s right,” Shouma agreed, “and you know we approve of him.”

“Yes, I know, but... it’s not that...” he stumbled in his speech again, mentally kicking himself for being unable to find the correct words. “We’re getting married... as in, like... a few days.”

Another period of silence descended upon their small group, and this time it lasted longer than the previous one. Yuuri knew better that you think they’d be against a wedding in which he and the blond haired male would be married; his parents treated Wolfram like a son of their own and Shori didn’t have any problems with him. Being as dysfunctional and unique as they were, his family was a bit more open minded than most others, so the two of them being male didn’t worry him so much either. It was the fact that he hadn’t made them aware in a more timely manner that had him wondering what their reactions would be; that and the reasons behind the wedding.

“Yuu-chan, why didn’t you tell us sooner?!” It was his mother who broke the silence again, the brown haired woman squealing in delight as she nearly began to jump up and down in her chair, filled with barely contained excitement.

“It’s not something we’ve been planning for the last year,” he told her, only now able to glance up at them. “It was only a few weeks ago that the date was announced.”

“And you’re getting married because...?” Leave it to Shori to get straight to the point. Sometimes the older black haired man was too perceptive for Yuuri’s liking. He couldn’t ever really hide anything from him.

“With everything that’s going on recently, Gwendal and the others think it would be for the good of the kingdom.”

“You agree with that?”

Yuuri was quiet for a moment, thinking his brother’s question over. He knew that this really was the best for everyone, but he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it on a personal level. “I don’t see what other choice I have. It’s important that I have someone to rule with and after me, regardless of what I feel.”

“Or at least that’s what they want you to believe,” Shori said, suddenly distrusting of his sibling’s Mazoku guardians again, even though a friendship had been forged between them. “You have a choice. You don’t have to go along with anything if you don’t want to.”

“They’re not forcing me,” Yuuri said with conviction. “You just don’t understand.”

“I’ve been to Shin Makoku. I know what it’s like there, and I know how the Mazoku in that world think. I know that they care about you and your safety, but when it comes to their kingdom your feelings become less important. That isn’t right. As their king, you should be making the decisions, not allowing them to do that for you.”

“I’m not allowing them to do anything!” the younger man continued defensively. “Wolfram and I made the decision to go through with this on our own! It has nothing to do with anyone else!”

Shori eyed him critically through his glasses, disbelieving. “They seem pretty good at manipulating you.”

“Shori...” their father said, disapproval clear in the tone of his voice.

“No one’s manipulating me!” Yuuri replied, his eyes narrowing slightly, and in a sudden burst of uncontrolled frustration, he slammed one of his closed fists against the surface of the table. How could his brother say something like that? Was he still so protective even though Yuuri was no longer a child? Did he still hold so much distrust for the people who’d taken his younger brother away from this world?

“You said ‘Gwendal and the others think it would be for the good of the kingdom.’ Obviously they had some sort of an affect on your decision, otherwise it wouldn’t matter what they think. It seems to me like they’ve got some sort of an ulterior motive.”

The Demon king of Shin Makoku frowned. “You still don’t trust them, even after everything that’s happened?”

Shori frowned back. “It’s one thing to trust, it’s completely different to trust too much. Your problem is that you don’t doubt anyone or their intentions, you put too much faith in people, and in the end you’re just going to get hurt.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

The two young men stared at one another in silence for a long, tense moment, both pairs of black eyes narrowed in determination, each trying to get the other to agree with them. Yuuri felt a small bubble of anger begin to form inside of him, not liking the fact that his older brother would insult his friends and question their integrity. Gwendal, Günter, and the others were completely loyal; they’d never so much as think of betraying him in any way. The memory of Conrad doing so once before didn’t matter in the least. Shinou had been the cause of that; Conrad wouldn’t have done such a thing on his own.

“I think it’s wonderful!” Jennifer gushed, smiling prettily, completely oblivious to the tension crackling throughout the room. “It’s about time one of you got married, though I wish you’d told us sooner, Yuu-chan! Wolf-chan and I still need to go shopping for a wedding dress! I suppose we don’t have much time for that now, do we, what with the wedding in a few days and all! That’s too bad! I was looking foreword to it!”

“Mom! Can you be serious for at least one second?!” Yuuri didn’t mean to snap at her, not so harshly, and he immediately regretted it when he caught sight of the surprised, hurt look that flashed in her brown eyes.

With a heavy sigh he raised his hands to cover his face, slumping in his chair in defeat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout,” he apologized, unable to remember the last time he’d actually yelled at his mother.

“This is really stressing you out, isn’t it?” Shouma asked, setting his chopsticks down onto the table as he gazed at his second son seriously.

“Yeah,” Yuuri nodded against his palms. “I’m sorry for not telling you guys sooner, and I’m sorry for acting like such a jerk, but...” ‘But what?” he thought. ‘I can’t control myself? Since when have I been so... moody?’

“It’s okay,” his father consoled him. “We understand.”

Still, the young dark haired man couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even look up at them, not after the verbal altercation he’d had with Shori and the harsh way in which he’d spoken to his mother. He was ashamed of the fact that he’d let his frustrations get the better of him, and that he’d taken it out on a woman who’d shown him nothing but love. Guilt ate away at him like it had the night he’d found himself drawn into an argument with Wolfram on the exact same issue, and he began to wonder what was wrong with him that could make him start snapping at people so readily. He wasn’t normally like this.

He stiffened slightly when a pair of arms comfortingly slid around him, and he lowered his hands to look up, his mother smiling back at him as she loosely embraced him. It wasn’t her normal girlish, oblivious smile, not the one she wore on almost every occasion, the one that made her seem like a complete and utter airhead. It was a mother’s smile, filled with forgiveness, reassurance, and unconditional love and understanding, the kind that made him remember why he put up with all her antics - because she cared about him more than anything, no matter what he said or did.

“We’ll be there for you, okay?” she said sweetly, and her declaration proved soothing, calming the young man down as his anger and frustration seemed to vanish in an instant.

“Okay,” he agreed, forever grateful, and he felt a smile cross his face as he lifted his own arms to hug her back. “Thank you.”

* * *

“Wolf-chan!”

Yuuri cringed as his mother’s high pitched squeal echoed loudly throughout the air as they exited Blood Pledge Castle and began walking through the flower garden. He could barely suppress an eye roll as she skipped along to greet his fiancé enthusiastically, groaning softly at the return of her hyperactive girly-ness.

He had just returned from Earth, making the trip with his parents for the first time, both of whom had begun to look around as soon as they’d arrived, intrigued by all that they saw in what was a strange, unknown place. Shori had come along as well, his second trip to the alternate world, and once they’d all dressed themselves in dry clothes and retrieved the earpieces Anissina had made for language and translation purposes, the two Shibuya brothers had become tour guides of sorts, showing their mother and father around the ground floor of the castle, slightly amused by their looks of wonder and awe. They were obviously more than impressed, and Yuuri spent a great deal of time recounting some of the history lessons he’d learned from Günter when Jennifer had asked him to tell them about the palace.

At first, he’d thought he’d end up having to show them around the whole building from top to bottom, but then Jennifer had requested to see her precious Wolfram and Yuuri couldn’t very well refuse without being sent on another massive guilt trip. So he’d asked one of the maids where his fiancé was and had been directed to the garden where - upon arriving - he saw the blond mazoku sitting down for afternoon tea in the gazebo with Lady Celi, Captain von Bielefeld, Greta, Murata, and Elizabeth (who’d come just a few days ago). They appeared to be waiting for Yuuri’s re-arrival, talking quietly between themselves as they enjoyed their beverages and a light snack.

At Jennifer’s exclamation, Wolfram looked up from the conversation he’d been having with his childhood friend, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he stood from his chair and moved to meet the brown haired woman halfway, not even taking the time to properly excuse himself from the table. Yuuri’s mother immediately pulled the blond boy into a tight hug, looking him over for the first time in a couple of years, completely disregarding what kind of first impression she was making in front of the future in-laws. She rained kisses all over his face, her enthusiasm taking him aback slightly, and it didn’t seem as if she would be releasing him from her clutches any time soon.

“Look at you! You haven’t changed at all!” she observed, her brown eyes scanning over him, searching for any noticeable differences. “You’re still so tiny! I hope you’re eating properly!”

“I’m fine, Mother, really,” he replied, seemingly happy to see her.

“When Yuu-chan told me about the wedding, I was so excited! I’d begun to wonder if the two of you were ever going to get married!” the Japanese woman told him, shooting a look of disapproval in the direction of her youngest son, like he was the cause of some grave injustice. “Yuu-chan, how come you never bring Wolf-chan with you when you come home? We were supposed to go shopping for a dress!” she reminded him again.

“I’m sorry, Mom. It kind of slipped my mind,” the black haired boy replied as he and the two less exuberant members of his family came up beside her. The truth was Yuuri just hadn’t wanted to give her the opportunity to put his fiancé in a dress, which said fiancé probably wouldn’t object to if 1) it was “flattering” or 2) it was Jennifer who suggested it.

His mother and Wolfram had a strange sort of relationship that the young king didn’t even try to figure out, although he supposed it had something to do with his mom’s fondness for juvenile cross-dressing and Wolfram’s willingness to feed her addiction for boys in pink frills and matching bow ribbons. In Jennifer’s eyes, Wolfram could do no wrong, and she fawned over him as if he were a small child, which - surprisingly enough - didn’t seem to bother the blond at all. Wolfram enjoyed the attention he received from her and didn’t mind how ditzy she often times was, though with a mother like Lady Celi Yuuri supposed he had limitless experience in dealing with those sorts of things.

During the few times Yuuri had taken his fiancé with him to Earth - twice during the search for the fourth and final box, and twice more when bringing Greta to meet her other set of grandparents - Jennifer and Wolfram had grown eerily close. It was weird to see them together, to witness Wolfram’s change in demeanor whenever he was around her. His face lit up every time he saw the woman and he became far less arrogant, was more accepting and understanding, more accommodating and patient, much like he was with Greta and children of a younger age. He put up with her giddiness better than Yuuri could sometimes and indulged her in the pointless chatter she often lost herself in, listening as if what she said was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard.

In return, she showered him with loving attention, which he basked in like a small boy who’d been neglected and left alone his whole life, starved for attention - though he received enough from his own mother to last him quite a few lifetimes - and would often give Yuuri looks that said “your mother likes me, so what the hell is your problem?” For someone who’d started out by insulting the woman when he and Yuuri had first met, he’d come to accept her as family and seemed to honestly and wholeheartedly enjoy the time he spent in her presence. His strong, egotistical demeanor vanished completely under one of her bright smiles, leaving him looking young and carefree.

His relationship with Shouma was somewhat different, however, as Yuuri could clearly see once Jennifer released Wolfram to hop over to Greta and give her granddaughter a loving squeeze, at which point the blond turned to greet the other two Shibuyas. Although Wolfram had taken to calling Yuuri’s parents ‘mother’ and ‘father’ as a way to ingratiate himself into the king’s family, there was a distance between Wolfram and Shouma that did not exist where Jennifer was concerned.

Now Yuuri thought he understood why that was. Wolfram’s relationship with his own father was obviously not a very close one, leaving him with little knowledge as to how to act towards men who had similar paternal roles. It wasn’t as if the blond didn’t like Shouma, because he respected him a great deal; there was just a cloud of awkwardness between them, one that Yuuri had seen plenty of time when Wolfgang attempted to converse with his son. Wolfram didn’t know how to react around him, not like he did with those who were openly affectionate, like Jennifer and Lady Celi.

Instead of hugs and kisses, they shook hands, exchanging a smile or two and a few kind words, but not much more was said. Shori didn’t give much of a greeting, just nodded to acknowledge the shorter mazoku, spending too much of his time looking around suspiciously, as if searching out any signs of danger. Yuuri could only roll his eyes again and jabbed him in the side with one of his elbows, silently annoyed. He’d told him that things weren’t going well here, it was true, but he hadn’t said anything about it being exceptionally dangerous - especially here at the castle, where security was so tight even he could hardly come and go without being thoroughly questioned.

“Mom, Dad,” he called to his parents, attracting their attention as he went about trying to lighten the mood. So much tension all the time was nearly enough to drive him crazy. “I’d like you to meet Wolfram’s parents.”

Jennifer loosened her hold on Greta as he said this, looking towards the two adults in question, completely forgetting that she had yet to embrace and cuddle Murata, whom she adored as well.

Lady Celi was the first to stand from her chair and step foreword. “Cecilie von Spitzweg,” the former queen said politely, smiling happily as she introduced herself to the two remaining members of the Shibuya family that she had not yet had the pleasure of meeting, greeting Jennifer and Shouma much more appropriately that she had Yuuri and Shori.

The navy captain stood as well, extending his single had in the direction of Yuuri’s father, who clasped onto it for a firm shake. “Wolfgang von Bielefeld.”

“Shouma Shibuya. It’s nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Miko!” the brown haired woman stated. “But, please, call me Jennifer.” None of them asked about the vast difference between her given name and the nickname she’d gone by since college. No one ever did.

Once the introductions had been made and they were each caught up in various conversations, four extra chairs were brought out by Doria and Lazania so the Shibuyas would have a place to sit, while Sangria prepared a cup of tea for each of them. Jennifer and Celi hit it off immediately, as Yuuri had rightly expected, sitting beside one another and trading embarrassing stories about their youngest sons, which had both the king and his fiancé blushing and complaining within minutes, while Greta and Elizabeth giggled in amusement. Shouma, Shori and Wolfgang spoke to one another amiably, though not nearly as animated as the women, and when von Bielefeld would occasionally fall silent, Murata was there to ease the awkwardness.

After an hour or so had gone by, Murata and Wolfgang excused themselves with Shouma to go and give the elder Shibuya a more extensive tour around the castle. Jennifer looked torn between going with them in order to explore and staying behind with the others and continuing her friendly conversation with Lady von Spitzweg. After a short moment’s worth of thought, the brunette decided to forgo the tour for now, claiming Yuuri would take later. When they had gone and before Yuuri could make any sort of complaint about being a tour guide again, Jennifer suddenly excused herself, turning to the blond haired boy that sat to her left.

“Wolf-chan, come walk around the garden with me,” she requested with a pleading smile that left the mazoku noble with no choice but to comply.

Wolfram nodded and excused himself quickly, ignoring Yuuri’s look of curiosity as he and the human woman from Earth began to stroll along the small paths that meandered throughout his mother’s garden.

They traveled a ways from the gazebo, far enough so that they could no longer hear any of the conversations that passed between those remaining at the table. Occasionally Jennifer would stop to smell the various flowers, most of which were still in bloom despite the swiftly cooling temperatures. His mother’s garden always seemed full of life and color, even during the cool autumn months and the cold and snowy winters.

“What this flower called, Wolf-chan?” she asked him, kneeling on the ground to inhale the perfume form a patch of familiar blue fauna, the ones that seemed to be the favorite among most people.

“Conrad Stands Upon the Earth,” he replied, standing beside her. “Most of the flowers in this section are the ones that Mother breeds. She named them all herself.”

“Did she?” the woman looked intrigued by that, leaning in to peer at them closer. “Then what’s the name of that one?” she questioned, pointing now to those of a soft blue-green color.

“Secret Gwendal.”

“And this one?”

The blond blushed slightly, staring down at the yellow blossoms his mother had named after him when he’d been a little boy. “Beautiful Wolfram.”

She made a soft noise of approval, standing back to her feet in order to smile at him. “That’s a fitting name,” she told him. “Now I know how you got to look so pretty. You’re the spitting image of your mother. I wish Yuu-chan had thought to bring us here sooner. It doesn’t seem right that we’ve only just met. But that boy...” she shook her hear slowly. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with him.”

“This wedding was very sudden,” he said by way of explanation. He knew that wasn’t much of an excuse, since Yuuri had had the entirety of the four years they’d been engaged to bring his parents for at least a quick visit, but he felt that he had to say it anyway. As much as he wished otherwise, the marriage was nothing more than one of political convenience.

Jennifer just kept smiling at him, and although he was sure she was well aware of the circumstances, she still acted as if it were an ordinary wedding. Grabbing onto one of his hands, she began to pull him away from the flowerbed, heading towards a stone bench along the side of one of the walkways. “Sit with me,” she pleaded, tugging him down into the spot beside her.

“Mother-”

“Uh uh uhh,” Jennifer shook her head in mock disapproval, wagging a slender index finger before him. “You can’t call both Celi and me ‘mother.’ That would get confusing, right? Call me ‘Mama.’”

“Mama...” he said slowly, experimenting with the two short syllables. Such a name sounded strange in his ears when he’d grown so used to referring to people so formally, even his own parents.

Her smile brightened at the use of the word, if that were at all possible. “What do you think about the wedding?” she asked him nonchalantly, not taking it as seriously as everyone else, or at least that’s how it appeared. Wolfram was sure she was very much aware of what was going on; Yuuri wasn’t one to let anyone believe there was anything more between them than friendship, after all. Jennifer was simply trying to make the most out of the situation, a task she was amazingly good at.

Despite her cheer, however, Wolfram couldn’t do much more than smile back at her sadly. “I think... it’s for the best.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. I understand that things aren’t going very well now and that this is important. I have a responsibility that I need to fulfill.”

“Hmm,” she sighed through her nose, her brown eyes losing a bit of their normal sparkle. “Even so, it isn’t right. You shouldn’t be getting married because of that; you should marry because you love each other, otherwise it isn’t going to work.”

“But I do love Yuuri,” the mazoku answered, green eyes moving so that he was looking at the bed of flowers directly across from where they were sitting. He didn’t feel strange at all admitting such a thing to her so candidly. There was something about the brown haired woman that made her amazingly easy to talk to. “It’s just that he... I don’t think that he...”

“He’s so uptight about some things,” Jennifer said when he was unable to voice his thoughts. “I don’t know where he and his brother get that from, but they never talk to their father and me about anything personal. It’s always baseball or computers or work. It’s never, ‘By the way, Mama, I met a pretty girl today and I’m taking her out on a date next Friday’ or ‘Mama, you have a granddaughter.’ Do you know how long it took Yuu-chan to tell us about Greta-chan? Every time he talks about this place, it always has something to do with Cinnamon, Calorie, and France.”

“Shimeron, Caloria, and Franshire,” he offered, a smile threatening to break out along his face again, and he wondered if she’d mispronounced the names of those countries for that exact purpose. Yuuri often complained that his mom was a complete ditz, but Wolfram had found that she wasn’t as bad as the black haired young man said. She just like the keep the mood light and tensions low.

“Right,” she agreed with a nod. “And every time I ask about you, he gets all embarrassed or he changes the subject real quick and I can’t ever get anything out of him. He’s pretty open about other things, but when it comes to his relationships with people he clams up. He’ll say, ‘So-and-so is nice,’ or ‘I trust such-and-such,’ but that’s it. I try to get him to talk to me about you, more than ‘Yeah, Mama, Wolfram’s fine. What’s for dinner?’ but he closes himself off before I can ask him anything else. Still, I can tell that he likes and cares about you.”

Wolfram turned to peer back at her, and he knew his curiosity was showing more than he wanted it to. He didn’t know what she’d meant by that, but the doubts he was always carrying around inside of him were slowly being covered up by a layer of hope. “I’m his friend,” he responded, “and he’s mine. Of course we care about each other.”

“But you love him.”

“I do,” he agreed.

“And he loves you.”

At this, the blond quickly shook his head. “I don’t think-”

“Don’t think,” she told him, her smile remaining on her pretty face. “Feel.”

“I know... Yuuri doesn’t love me.”

“Has he told you that?”

“No,” he shook his head again, and then rushed to add before she could say anything else, “but he hasn’t told me he loves me either.”

“Yuu-chan never tells anyone that he loves them,” Jennifer said with another sigh, turning just slightly to stare passed all he flowers and momentarily gaze at the young king, who was still reclining in a chair within the gazebo, talking with his dark haired daughter.

“Then how am I supposed to know? How can you tell what he feels?”

“Me?” she wondered, returning her gaze to him. “Well, that’s all maternal instinct. I would think I’d know my son better than most other people. I know that he’s confused about everything and that he’s afraid that he’ll end up making the wrong choice or doing something that would ruin everything for the two of you. He’s especially afraid of hurting you.”

“He doesn’t want to hurt anyone,” Wolfram pointed out. “It’s not just me.”

“That’s true,” she nodded in agreement. “If there’s one thing about Yuu-chan that makes me proud, it’s that he’s caring and conscientious. Well, there are a lot of things he does or has done that makes me proud, but that’s beside the point. The point is, it doesn’t matter that he’s kind and compassionate to everyone. You’re still more important to him than most other people are. Maybe you can’t see it, and maybe he doesn’t even realize it, but I know it’s true.”

“I don’t think-”

“Uh uh uhh,” she said again, and was once more wagging one of her index fingers in front of him. “What did I say? Don’t think. Feel. If you think too much, you’ll confuse yourself. That’s why Yuu-chan’s having such a hard time. He’s so busy thinking about everything that he can’t let himself go and just feel.”

“I don’t understand,” the mazoku youth admitted, his thin golden brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of what his fiancé’s mother was saying.

“Because you’re thinking,” she replied in a sing-song voice, and the boy had to wonder how she could smile and seem so lighthearted when they were having such a serious discussion. “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even heard. They must be felt with the heart (2),” she recited knowingly. “Yuu-chan doesn’t understand that yet. One day he will, and one day he’ll realize how hard he’s made things for himself. He needs someone like you to help him.”

It was a funny thing, hope - something Wolfram felt filling him with every word she said.

He’d lost most of his hope a long time ago, when his father had left and he’d discovered that his beloved brother was part human, then further during the war when so many people had died or been maimed. He’d learned that it was best not to have any hope at all, to rid himself off it, eradicate it from his system, so that he wouldn’t inevitably suffer disappointment. To hope lead to pain, deep emotional pain, the kind that stayed with you forever, the kind his mother and Conrart were so good at hiding, the kind that Wolfram had always tried unsuccessfully to run away from. There was no point in hoping when it only lead to hurt and heartache.

Four years ago, when Yuuri had come, and Wolfram had realized that some things weren’t always as impossible as they seemed, hope had returned to him. Yuuri gave him the hope he hadn’t ever thought he’d find again, gave him the will to dream for something more, something greater, something worthwhile. He could believe that there was more to life than duty, than hatred and violence, that peace was not some distant dream, but a real possibility.

He hoped even when he didn’t want to, even though he knew there was a good chance that he’d end up being hurt, because in the end hope was all he had.

Jennifer’s words fed those feelings, and Wolfram realized where Yuuri had gotten his ability to bring love and happiness to others. As much as the black haired boy complained about his mother or thought her oblivious, his kindness and compassion came from her, his ability to bring cheer into the lives of people who knew nothing but fear and sadness had been given to him from her. Yuuri could grin through hardships and make friends out of enemies because he had a mother who’d taught him how to do so through simple words and pleasant smiles. Yuuri was open-minded and willing to listen to everyone because his mother was the same way.

“Thank you, Mama,” the blond said with a tiny smile, her words helping to restore some of the faith that had faltered over the last few weeks.

She simply shook her head as if it were no problem at all. “I should be thanking you for taking such good care of my Yuu-chan.” She brightened then, her warm eyes sparkling. “Which reminds me...” she said, feeling around in one of her pockets. “I have something for you.”

Wolfram felt his curiosity piqued and he watched her closely as she pulled out a small black box, one that didn’t even take up the space of the palm of her hand. An eyebrow rose when she opened it and removed the contents within, producing a miniature piece of jewelry, a ring that glistened brightly in the fading sunlight. He couldn’t tell what it was made of since the metals and minerals mined and excavated in Shin Makoku were probably different than those on Earth, but the band was made of a silver-ish material, and the three gemstones - of which the one in the middle was slightly bigger than the ones flanking it on either side - were clear and exquisitely cut.

“This was my mother’s,” Jennifer explained cheerfully. “It was left to me when she passed away, and I’ve kept it all this time. On Earth, when two people get engaged, the one who proposes gives the other a ring. Well, the woman’s usually the one who receives the ring, but that doesn’t really matter. That has nothing to do with why I’m giving it to you,” she said. “I thought of giving it to Yuu-chan and telling him to propose to you formally, but we all know he’s too shy to do something like that and he’d probably be so embarrassed...

“Anyway,” she continued, trying not to get sidetracked. “I’ve seen the necklace Yuu-chan wears, and I remember it from when Conrad helped me get to the hospital when I was in labor. He was wearing it back then so I know your brother must have been the one to give it to him. I’ve never asked Yuu-chan about it, but I know that it’s special to him; it makes him think about you and the others when he’s at home, and it makes him feel as if he belongs here.” Carefully she put the box away, but kept the ring at hand. “So I remembered this, and I wanted to give it to you, so that you’ll know that you have a family on Earth, too.”

“Mother...” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t really care about the Earthen engagement ritual (Okay, so maybe be did, just a little, but only because it was something Yuuri was much more familiar with and a custom the king would have preformed for the bride of his choosing); the fact that she wanted him to have something of hers, something that must be very important to her, was enough to leave him speechless. Normally he wasn’t one to wear jewelry, but he found himself itching to accept what was being offered, if only because it made him feel accepted. He felt special knowing that she thought of him while in her own world.

“It’s ‘Mama,’ Wolf-chan,” she made sure to remind him, giggling as she grabbed hold of his left hand. “Of course, I wasn’t quite sure if it would fit you, but I know that you’ve got tiny fingers, so I hoped...” She began to slide the ring onto his ring finger, squealing when it went on all the way. “And I was right! A perfect fit!” she exclaimed with delight, beaming at him.

“Mama, I can’t take this from you,” he was finally able to say, holding his hand out so that he could stare down at it, admiring how it sparkled and gleamed. His own mother would be thrilled to own such a fine piece of jewelry, but he couldn’t help but feel as if he was taking something cherished and sacred away from the other woman.

“Of course you can, Wolf-chan. I want you to have it. It’s yours now,” she stated, taking both of his hands into hers and looking him in the eye. “You wear it, and you think of me, and you remember what I said about feeling. Let your heart guide you (3).”

Wolfram nodded, then closed his eyes as she pulled him into a tight hug. He still didn’t understand some of what she’d said, but he couldn’t do anything but believe her. Letting her hold him and listening to her kind voice as she spoke to him made him feel safe, and knowing that she thought of him while at her own home in a completely different world brought a warm feeling into his heart. It gave him the will to believe that everything would be okay and that nothing was ever completely hopeless, even his relationship with her son.

He could go through with this knowing that he was accepted by the people who meant the most to Yuuri, and he could continue to dream of a brighter future, when Yuuri was finally able to say the three words he wanted most to hear.

One day, surely. One day everything would turn out fine. It just had to.

TBC...

Notes:

(1) For some reason, I have no idea why, but I’d always imagined Lady Celi had become queen sometime after Gwendal’s birth, perhaps after her first husband had died. Therefore, she would have only performed this ceremony twice, once with Conrart’s father, and once with Wolfram’s. It’s probably wrong for me to assume such things, but my laziness and my busy school schedule has again prevented me from doing the research that should have been done. Forgive me.

(2) A quote by Helen Keller.

(3) The site I got this quote from listed the author as unknown, but I know where it’s from anyway. Littlefoot’s mother says it in The Land Before Time.

A/N: I apologize again for how long it took to post this chapter. I feel guilty for the long wait *pouts again*. The next chapter is Se Marier, which means ‘to get married,’ so I’m sure you can pretty much figure out what’s going to happen. Happy Holidays!! And if I don’t post again by January, Happy New Year as well!!