changes

C h a n g e s


title: changes
anime: kyou kara maou
disclaimer: don’t own kkm, never will. But the characters I created.
rating(whole fanfiction): NC-17
(* indicates notes that are on the bottom of each chapter)



Chapter One

When he entered the bath tub the water had felt way too hot. Every millimeter of his skin had screamed out of the pain the steaming water caused. But he did not care. Maybe he even wanted it to hurt. It distracted him. Just a little bit.

His current pose became uncomfortable, so he started moving his long slender legs. Little waves rippled the surface of the water. The quiet sound of them clashing against the massive wood of the tub broke the silence which reined heavily through the whole room during the last fifteen minutes.

In order to change positions he attempted to stand, but felt too powerless. He let himself fall back against the dark wood. Greenish water splashed over the edge of the tub creating a small puddle on the grey floor. He feared the moment when he has to get out, and walk on the cold stones. He just wanted to enjoy the warmth, relaxing his muscles and the scent of the herbal shampoo relaxing his mind. But after another fifteen minutes the water became too cold for him to stay there any longer. Goosebumps covered his whole body and he shivered. Regretting that he had to abandon his refuge but seeing as the water was to cold for his liking, he excited the tub, the water running from his body turning the little puddle into a lake, as the freezing cold of the floor felt like little knives piercing his feet.

He stood there, alone, in darkness. What was he thinking about? He looses the track of his mind. Where is he again? What time is it? He knows he wanted to go somewhere, but where?

Someone calls his name.
He knows the voice. It is a very familiar one. Only hearing it makes him smile. It wipes away all questions. All insecurities vanish. Then the voice calls him over.

Happy about being wanted by this voice he obeys. The grip of the darkness that made him immovable and confused erases his mind. His body feels light as he goes into the direction where the voice comes from.

Then there are other voices. How he has missed them. They all cheer for him to overcome the darkness, to leave this dangerous place and to come to them, stay with them, be happy with them. Gladly he keeps on moving. Short hesitant first steps turn into a light walk. Then he increases the pace and runs in a tunnel which leads to the place his heart longs for. He reaches the tunnel’s end and steps out into the bright sunlight. He is not used to it. So he has to shelter his eyes.

He stands there blind but he feels that everyone is there. Everyone waited for him and everyone is glad that he is eventually back, everyone.

He woke up. Pale rays of moonlight invaded the chamber. He used to think of this kind of light as an un-light. It made him able to see but let the room only seem to be darker and scarier than usual. He snuggled under the covers searching for warmth that did not seem to exist in this cold northern country.

He tried to remember his dream. It was soothing, yet painful. All those persons he missed. His brothers, his mother all those people around him and… that person.

The thought of that person hurt the most. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on something different. Something different, something different… For example, his name. In this castle – or cage, he often referred to it – he was given another name. Maybe, because they did not want him remembering his roots. Maybe, because they wanted to destroy everything he used to be, and create something different with theses shads.
But he will not allow that. His pride may be taken away but he will always remember who he is. He never could. All these voices still echoed in his mind only saying his name witch he had not heard in a very long time.
Wolfram.

“…Please, wake up!”
He opened his eyes slowly. Somehow his eyelids were so heavy. So he just closed them again. The room was bright because of the morning sun shining directly threw the window and onto Wolfram’s bed.

In spite of the rays the chamber was still cold. Actually it never was warm. Wolfram wondered if this country ever had seen something like a summer. The people said it was spring now and headed forward to what they called “summer”. He thought that the weather matched better to a late autumn day. Since he was brought to this “cage” it had snowed, or he got the feeling that it would start to snow again soon. Honestly, who wants to leave his warm and soft bed while it is freezing outside?

“Please, Allan*-sama, wake up. The lord might get mad at us again if we are too late again.”

The lord getting angry – he could not care less. Really, there is nothing left that this lord had not done to him, except the thing he really wished for, his own death. “Allan! I beg you!” There it was. He never could resist Slava*’s pleas. Maybe because, he reminded him of Yuuri.

Slava had reddish brown hair, brown eyes and wore a blue shirt; it made him look like Yuuri-in-disguise.

It hurt a little every day to see him because, he was too often reminded of the person he had loved once, and that went so far away. Yuuri was out of his reach, he chided himself. So he better stopped thinking of that hennachoko and live this miserable life he had.
Wolfram murmured something which had no important meaning, just to express his bad mood. Usually he was aloud to sleep as long as he wished to. But then days like this happened. Lord Vichaslav* called him sometimes on a whim to eat with him or to go on a ride or to do… well, the thing why he was bought.

Vichaslav was ugly, disgusting, and his sense of humor was the worst Wolfram knew of. But he was getting old. So at least Wolfram was not called that often. That fact made him better than each of Wolfram’s owners.

After getting out of the bed, Slava helped him to change clothes and do some washing (no need to say that the water was more ice than liquid). Finally he brushed his hair which had grown long in the past years, (although it was once cut but Wolfram did not like to think of that incident). His still beautiful golden curls reached down to his shoulder blades. He never braided them allowing the blonde hair to cover his unsightly scars.
The both of them did not talk much during that procedure. They never talked much. When Wolfram was ready the both of them left the Wolfram’s chambers and headed to the huge dining room in which Vichaslav used when having dinner with the two of them. His wife died some years ago and his only child, a son, went abroad last year.

Maybe this old man started to feel lonely…




I am sorry the first chapter ended so soon. Well, nothing really happened… But it is my first fanfic in English, so please have mercy.
Thanks to Mazoku_Onna for beta-reading this story - i love you!

Planned in the next chapter:
The reason why Vichaslav called for both of them or the reason why this fan fiction is rated NC-17
Thanks for reading that far.


* notes
~Allan a Celtic name I found on the internet. It actually means handsome.
~Slava is a Russian name and means honor. I’d like to thank my cute Ira who helped me finding this name. I like it because it is short (I can remember it easily) and reminds me of the English word slave. Although it is pronounced differently.-(The a like au in “laugh” but a bit shorter)
~Vichaslav is a Russian name as well. (Thanks, Ira!) It has no important meaning – I just needed a name for him…