AXIOMATIC Chapter Five – Ivy Fidelity A Sequel to Heels Over Head A ConYuu Fan-fiction

By: Ami

Beta-reader: Sherlockian Slytherin a.k.a Proud Snapist

Alternate Universe, spoilers, maybe

Specially dedicated to: Prosopopeia, for staying, cheering, and encouraging until the end. You’re forever a darling to me.

Special Note: The final chapter is (finally) here. Check the incoming epilogue and one-shot sequel out for more happy stuff. And I’m sorry that it had taken nineteen chapters (HOH included) and so many months to schem---I mean, get Conrad and Yuuri together. Err… Anyway, you can still throw rotten fruits to my direction if it’d make you feel better.

Standard disclaimers apply.

XXX

The night had started peacefully, just like every other night this week.

Yuuri had dinner, took a bath, and did his nightly rituals before retreating to his room and falling asleep almost immediately.

Then at midnight, the nightmare would start.

Yuuri had never considered himself a light-sleeper. As long as there weren’t too many noises around him, the light was dim enough, and there was no Wolfram to kick him out of his bed, he’d sleep like the dead until the sound of Conrad’s gentle voice pleasantly would bring him back to his senses.

That night, however, his subconscious-self had apparently sensed something wrong, and stirred him awake a few hours before the dawn. When he cracked his eyes open and saw no sun through the window, Yuuri rolled on his stomach with the full intention of going back to sleep… to later find that he couldn’t. And the new position was rather suffocating.

Rolling back to his backside with a frustrated groan, the king stubbornly kept his eyes closed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear a female voice screaming at him to open his eyes. He was also vaguely aware of the unusual smell he was inhaling at the moment. The smell was suspicious, but he was feeling too sleepy to even care. He knew he had to open his eyes, but he didn’t want to move.

The voice was getting louder, and more persistent. He rolled on his side and pressed his pillow over his ears. The female voice never faltered.

Groaning in frustration, the king promptly sat up with the very intention to tell the person off, only to shiver at the soft swish just a few inches behind his back.

It was cold. It was metal. It was…

Yuuri stumbled down from his bed, briefly noticing the sudden malfunction of his legs before looking up and staring wide-eyed at the sword. It glinted blood-chillingly under the full moon’s soft glow, embedded snugly on the pillow, where his head was supposed to be.

Yuuri continued to stare, and couldn’t even bring his throat to swallow.

A man in black was still holding on to the sword, standing on the opposite side of his bed.

“Who are you?”

The raven-haired boy wasn’t sure which fact was more surprising; that he had managed to keep his voice steady, or that he had been able to talk at all.

A sinister chuckle was all he got.

XXX

Yuuri woke up drenched in cold sweat; eyes wide open.

Yuuri took a moment to stare at the dark ceiling and suddenly remembering the night of the attack, the king promptly sat up, checked his left side, where the intruder had stood that night, and slipped a hand under his bed to make sure that Morgiff was still there. The sword had been complaining about being stored in a cramped and dark space, but that was the whole point of having it around. It had to be hidden so his amateurish strikes would be less predictable and more effectual in knocking the intruders down.

Taking one deep relieved breath when seeing that everything seemed fine, he leaned back on his pillow and wondered why the nightmare had returned again after vanishing for a few weeks. It had to be the day’s stress building up, thus causing him to recall the horrifying experience and replay it in his dream (while Murata was on a holiday, no less).

A quick glance at his open window indicated that the sky was still dark, and it sounded like it was about to rain again. He felt a brief moment of disappointment that the clouds had obscured the supposedly brilliant field of stars. But he also knew that clouds had their uses.

For instance, clouds would eventually turn in to rain. And rain would then drive a couple to be stranded in a cave together. The stranded couple would then have no one else but each other, at least for the moment. It was the time when they could be the most honest to each other. It was the time when they could pretend that they were alone in the world, weightless of moral burden and free from chains of responsibility.

Yuuri clamped his eyes shut, taking one deep breath as his body started to tense up again.

I really have to stop thinking about this or my hair will have all fallen off by tomorrow.

Trying to drift his mind somewhere else, Yuuri found himself thinking about the odd atmosphere he had been sensing around the castle earlier.

For starters, he couldn’t find Murata and Wolffie anywhere, and nobody seemed to know how the two mysterious guests had disappeared. And the second was the abrupt arrival of the honored guests, more or less a month ahead of schedule. While he hadn’t minded meeting the super-humans a little bit earlier than planned, Gwendal seemed rather upset. The man hadn’t even allowed him to meet those guests until tomorrow, reasoning that they had still been exhausted after their long trip. As dense as he sometimes was, Yuuri could see that that was not the real reason. What he didn’t understand was why Gunter had let the grumpy man ‘exile’ their important guests to a secluded mansion, miles away from the castle while several rooms had been exclusively prepared in the castle for the clan.

Weren’t they supposed to treat the guests more politely? Weren’t the people in the castle supposed to be cheerfully excited instead of plain tense? Shouldn’t Anissina be more thrilled to create a good show and make an even stricter rehearsal schedule instead of calling it off? And the worst part of the cancelled rehearsal was that he hadn’t seen Conrad at all since then.

Yuuri opened his eyes again, staring out at the cloudy sky through the window and sighed. It seemed that his hair would still fall off no matter what.

XXX

The day before, in the cave during the rain…

The contact was brief, almost too brief to be considered a real kiss, for which Conrad was immensely thankful since the clumsy soft brush of lips alone had been enough to make him lose the feeling on both of his legs.

A moment after Yuuri pulled back, Conrad found himself facing a situation he had never imagined having to deal with before. The silence. The uncertainty. The awkwardness. And Yuuri looked like he wasn’t going to say anything until he could make sure of Conrad’s feelings about the kiss.

And even after knowing the big question, Conrad stayed still in silence, nursing his erratically pounding heart back to its normal and steady beat. Wolfram’s face, his mother’s sad face, and his promise to never repeat the same mistake again flashed before him, even when he closed his eyes. The time had finally come. Yuuri had finally made up his mind. And to think that the king had chosen him… it was almost like swallowing a bitter pill coated with sugar, or the reverse, depending on his decision as to which to taste first: the happy sugariness, or the dark bitterness.

Stealing another glance at the king, who was still looking at anywhere but him, Conrad couldn’t help averting his eyes back to the safety of the ground and blushed.

The boy would surely be the death of him. He had now become even surer than before.

“Conrad, I…” Yuuri suddenly started.

Conrad stayed still, not knowing what to expect. He slowly turned to face the king, with an expression that betrayed none of his anxiety.

“I didn’t choose you to take the role because I felt uncomfortable performing the play with somebody else,” Yuuri cleared his throat and turned his eyes away again at Conrad’s visible flinch, “I mean, yes, I’ll be uncomfortable, but… it’s… just…”

Another long pause.

Conrad released the breath he had been holding, and did not feel as relieved as he should.

“I don’t want to be paired up with somebody else,” Yuuri sounded a lot less shaky than before, “I’ll only be Juliet if you’re Romeo. I… I just want you to know that.”

Then he stopped and seemed to be surveying Conrad’s expression for an answer. But Conrad kept his eyes fixed on the ground; both elbows on each thigh, fingers interlaced together, and eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Yuuri took a deep breath and imitated the stance, waiting, lost in his own whirl of thoughts.

Conrad’s hand was warm, always so warm and soothing, that when Yuuri finally noticed, it had already been pressed against his intertwined fingers, stroking, feeling, comforting. Yuuri couldn’t help but remember that time, when he had patiently sat next to the brunet’s bed, holding that very same rough hand in the same way and hoping that his hands would have caused Conrad the same contentment as the unconscious man’s always had done for him.

Yuuri smiled, removed his left hand and gently replaced it with Conrad’s. Looking at those interlaced fingers, Yuuri didn’t think that any other hand could fit his so perfectly. It felt so right, just to sit there and relish the warmth Conrad’s hand offered.

“…Yuuri…”

Without realizing it, Yuuri tightened his grip on the warm hand, trying to extract as much encouragement as it could offer him.

“Please… give me… time.”

Conrad felt his heart sank as the grip in his hand loosened slightly.

“I understand.”

Then the king’s soft hand retreated entirely.

XXX

Currently on duty and underground, Conrad knew that he was not in the position to tell the night’s weather. But he knew that it was starting to rain.

He could smell the humid air when a guard had opened the door, and he could hear the roaring thunder from his headphones, which was connected to one of the three rooms they were inspecting.

So far he had heard nothing from the occupier of the room that he was in charge for, not even the sound of someone breathing, which made it even more suspicious. It was like the person in the room where the speaker was attached was deliberately waiting in silence until he could make sure that everyone else had been asleep.

Gunter had looked like he had been about to fall asleep, so Wolfram had taken over his headphones and seemed to be listening intensely for every little sound at the moment. Yozak had also taken over the last headphones from Gwendal, who had gone to inspect the rest of the troops around the mansion.

“Hey, hey,” the redhead who had been unusually silent for a moment suddenly whispered.

Conrad really hated it when Yozak poked him with his sharp elbow, but decided that he would tolerate it only for the night since the man hadn’t teased him for a while. In fact, Conrad had even started to worry about the redhead’s health.

“Your little brother, he has changed, don’t you think so?” Yozak gestured to Wolfram, who looked more and more like Gwendal with the furrowed brows and total concentration on his face. Conrad tried listening to his own device and heard nothing but the monotone clatter of rain and occasional thunder.

“Well, we all know that his personality has become significantly better after getting along with the king…” Yozak stole another glance at the blond to make sure that the conversation didn’t go overheard, “But normally, although he has become a generally nice person, when it comes to Yuuri, he’ll relapse to his old-self in no time. One wrong word about the king, and he’ll blast.”

Conrad nodded and looked at Wolfram again. If possible, the blond’s expression looked even tenser than before. Conrad wondered if Wolfram had heard something important, but decided to wait until his little brother confirmed his suspicion.

“And this morning, when you and your beloved king skipped breakfast and went on a secret date together…”

Conrad stayed silent, ignoring Yozak’s raised eyebrow at his lack of retort.

“Wolfram didn’t say a thing and ate like nothing had happened,” Yozak was now staring at his commander’s impassive face deviously. To Yozak, the silence was Conrad-ish for: ‘Oh yes, you’re so true, but I’m not going to satisfy you by confirming it’.

“Everyone was wondering about it too, but nobody could actually walk up to him and ask.” The redhead continued, still wearing his wolfish grin, “I mean, nobody but you.”

The brunet looked like he was contemplating the idea, before finally shaking his head in the negative, “I can’t do something like that.”

“Because?”

“Because…” Conrad took a deep breath and paused. It was a very long pause.

“Because the king has finally confessed his undying love to you and you don’t think you can ask something that would rub the fact in your beloved brother’s face without hurting him?” Yozak helpfully supplied, which was both a wild guess and lucky revelation of truth that might have gone unnoticed had the redhead not been watching for every little change in his favorite commander’s expression like an expert.

Another silence fell, in which Conrad was staring at him as if he had grown two horns, a satanic trademark tail and a pair of black bat wings. But it still counted as a silence, and we all knew what silence meant in Conrad-ish.

So Yozak continued calmly, “What was your answer?”

Conrad leaned his back against the wall, sighed and said nothing.

Yozak continued to search the answer in his commander’s expression, until something he heard in his headphones froze him in his place.

Conrad quickly took off his headphones and leaned closer to him. “Yozak, what---“

The redhead held up a hand and gestured him to stay quiet while he looked around for the loudspeaker button.

Everybody immediately gathered around them. The button went on with a loud beep.

XXX

The man in the bed stiffened and reached for his glasses at the nightstand the moment he heard the firm knocking on his window. His other hand was clutching on the small golden knife he had hid under his pillow earlier.

Without waiting for a reply, a sturdy looking man with blond hair dressed in Geinzers’ dark blue uniform, pushed the window open and climbed in.

The man with glasses sighed in relief as he slowly released his tight grip on the knife.

“Don’t scare me like that,” he scolded half-heartedly, “And what are you doing here?”

“Someone’s reckless.” The man in uniform hissed irately, disregarding the wet trails he left as he stomped to the direction of the bed, “I went to his room to discuss about our plan tomorrow, and he was not there.”

The man with glasses let out a pained moan before resting his head on the pillow again; relishing the brief comfort it gave his suddenly aching head.

“…I knew it. We shouldn’t have let him come along… We shouldn’t have listened to my father… This is all a big mistake…” He ran a hand through his long russet locks, making his already disheveled hair look even messier than before.

“It’s kind of too late for that, so now, we have to do something to stop him.” The blond cut in firmly, “I’ll sneak in to the castle right now and drag him back.”

“What?!” His comrade abruptly sat up and gasped, “That’s not possible! Can’t you see the number of guards they’re placing around the palace? You’ll never make it!”

“There’s no other way. If he gets caught, it would have blown our cover too. And he also had to bring our special troops with him. Without them, there’s no way we could break the castle’s guard and launch tomorrow’s plan.” The blond replied gruffly as he walked towards the large suitcase on the floor and pulled a dark cloak out, “Just wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“No! No! No!” The brunet quickly jumped out his bed, gathered his scattered clothing articles and hastily put them on, “I’m coming with you. You could use some help.”

The blond, who had now concealed his uniform with the dark cloak, only stood there and glared in disapproval.

“You’re staying here,” his voice brooked no argument.

“Are you saying that I’ll just get in your way?”

“Exactly.”

“But I---mmmpppfff!!!!”

With a hand firmly clamped on his mouth, and a threatening glare directed his way, the man with glasses finally relented and closed his mouth, grudgingly.

“I’m still coming with you no matter what,” he quickly remarked right after the hand was removed. The blond looked like he wanted to put his hand back on, but opened his mouth instead to retort.

“I told you to stay out of this, it’s---“

“I’m afraid that both of you have to stay here.”

Both men froze, as the door was suddenly slammed open, and two dozens of soldiers marched inside, concurrently circling the two men while pointing their sword at their direction, daring any of them to move.

The sturdy man raised his sword and looked ready to make their way through at all cost, but the smaller brunet beside him placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. The blond could only heave a defeated sigh and lowered his sword again. With this failure, a death sentence was the only thing that was waiting for them at home so there was really no point of escaping, he knew. It was the fact that they were going to give up without showing some resistance that would have wounded his pride as a warrior the most.

“Now,” Gwendal stepped inside the room, followed by Wolfram who seemed to be acting as his special personal bodyguard, “Carefully put your weapons down on the floor, hold up your hands and step forward. We’ll have a long and thorough conversation about ‘tomorrow’s plan’ tonight.”

XXX

Yuuri shivered as he watched the man in black calmly pulled his sword out of the thoroughly abused pillow, before slowly making his way to the astounded king across the floor.
Yuuri could hear his internal alarm setting off and ringing almost deafeningly in his ears. For a moment he wondered how an alarm he only imagined in his mind could sound like a blaring rock concert, but quickly dismissed the silly idea as the assassin knelt in front of him and revealed his face… or actually, the creepy wooden mask he was wearing.

Yuuri kept staring at the odd-looking mask until his eyes caught something the man was holding out to him.

In the dimness of the night, with a little help from the full moon, the object only looked like a silhouette of two small bowls stacked oppositely against each other. And he could also make out thin smoke coming from the object, which was presumably the source of the strange smell he had been noticing much earlier.

When the man took a small step closer, Yuuri instinctively tried to move away, only to find that his limbs were all powerless. A small gasp escaped his mouth as he slumped on his tense back; both elbows that had been supporting his upper body earlier were no longer functioning. The fact that he could still scream for help was probably the only comfort he could attain in the very uncomfortable situation.

Only that the sword was still hovering menacingly over him, and he still had no idea what this man wanted by making him inhale the paralyzing incense.

“…What… do you want?” He choked out and realized in dread that the incense was also slowly depriving him of his voice. And the capacity of his brain. He could feel his consciousness slip away, little by little.

“Pity,” came the muffled voice of the assassin. Yuuri could somehow hear his smirk in it. “I’d love to hear you scream. But it has to end like this.”

Yuuri supposed that it was intended to be the moment of terror in his life. But he felt nothing but the weighing sleepiness, as it drifted down and overtook his remaining consciousness.

When he woke up again in the morning (or afternoon), his whole body felt numb, his carpet was brand new and the smell of air freshener was very strong in the air. People wandered in and out to keep him company or at least ask about his condition, but Conrad never came until the next morning.

XXX

Even after a few weeks, the special guards still looked creepy. Even after convincing himself that they were surely normal nice guys behind the gas masks that were supposed to protect them from any gases, Yuuri still found it extremely unnerving to look at them in the face---mask. Feeling slightly guilty for the unreasonable fear, he started talking, only to fill the silence during their short trip to Conrad’s office, where he wasn’t even sure Conrad currently was.

“Where did you work at before guarding my room?” He tried to keep his smile wide and sincere, which was easier said than done when having a conversation with someone whose expression was invisible.

“We have always worked to protect you.” Replied one of the guards, the slightly shorter one. He would have sounded a lot friendlier without the mask that muffled his voice, “wherever we are.”

The other guard approved with a nod, “We were extracted from our original army to become your personal bodyguards. Rest assured, Your Majesty. Sir Gwendal has especially picked us for a reason.”

Yuuri found it easier to keep his smile at their reassuring words. Just as he had thought, they were actually pretty nice once he had been able to ignore the creepy masks.

“Yes, I trust both of you are the best people Gwendal has…” The king paused awkwardly as he spotted a skull tattoo on one of the guards’ hand. Dear God, what could all tattooed people be thinking about when they decided to do something like that to a part of their body anyway? He had heard from a classmate that it also hurt a lot when done for permanent effect. Although some girls in his class commented about how cool it looked on a guy, Yuuri still couldn’t imagine himself getting one, especially after imagining how his mother would have reacted…

“Your Majesty?” the guard repeated, moving his hand away from the king’s scrutinizing eyes. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Ah… umm… oh, well… yes. I guess.” Yuuri replied, smiling sheepishly, “Anyway, I’m sorry for making you leave your original squad. It must be dull to just stand in front of my room without anything to do.”

The shorter guard shook his head dismissively, “I wouldn’t consider standing in front of your room and assuring its safety a simple and boring job. We need to be alert even at the most impossible moment.”

The slightly taller guard, the tattooed one, turned his head to his partner and nodded again, “Besides, it’s probably best to leave the job to more experienced soldiers than common guards. We have heard what happened to the previous guards… I mean…”

Yuuri remained silent and increased his pace to be slightly ahead. So far everyone had been considerate enough not to bring up the topic in front of him, but apparently most of the soldiers, especially the battle-hardened ones, weren’t as considerate as Conrad was. Yuuri knew that he couldn’t avoid it forever, but every time he heard about the poor guards and the mourning families they had left behind, the choking feel of guilt in his throat was almost unbearable. He had, somehow, survived, and they hadn’t. They had died protecting him.

A few days after visiting that night’s victims’ families, Conrad had seen him mourning in his room and told him to slowly get used to the occurrence, due to his position and responsibility. When Conrad had (only out of frustration, he hoped) brought up the fact that he too, wouldn’t hesitate to forfeit his life for the king if necessary, Yuuri had ended up vomiting his lunch. Conrad had looked at him with such sad eyes and hadn’t showed up for the rest of the day. Seeing such a vulnerable expression, fleeting as it might have been, it had probably been the first time Yuuri had seriously considered confessing his love to the infamous warrior.

The king sighed deeply, a rare frown visible on his thoughtful features. At least ‘it’ had been done. And now all he could, and had to do was to wait. Conrad needed time, possibly more than he did, considering the older man’s careful nature and excessive selflessness. It had been pure luck that Conrad hadn’t answered a straight ‘no’ for his little brother’s sake. It also greatly encouraged Yuuri, to think that the other man’s feelings were strong enough to make him forsake his ‘older brother’ title and for once think about his own happiness instead of others.

Just a little more… Yuuri took a deep breath, just a little more time, and Conrad will…

A loud thud, a suppressed groan of pain.

Yuuri felt his entire body go limp as the familiar smell of incense filled the air around him, once again.

He barely registered the blurred sight of the door to Conrad’s office as somebody grabbed his shoulder, pushed the door open and roughly shoved him inside.

As he felt a strong hand pressing his face to the wall while the other was firmly holding both of his arms on his back, Yuuri mentally groaned.

Déja-vu.

He should have trusted his dream a bit more, no matter how bad it was.

Conrad surely wouldn’t come to visit his office in the middle of the night, and from what he had observed, there were only a few of guards in the area, but at least this time he had Morgiff with him, although he still wasn’t sure if it was going to make a big difference.

XXX

Yozak reentered the underground base to find his favorite commander still standing at the spot he had occupied earlier, either brooding or simply lost in thought. That brought back memories, when the man had been smaller, cuter and less mature, and had done something like that a lot.

Carefully approaching the brunet, Yozak wondered if he should wait until the man was out of his trance, but then remembered that Conrad could stay like that for an inhumanly long time.

“Your brothers have taken care of the assassins. You are not going to join the interrogation?”

Conrad regarded him with a blank look before resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes, definitely set on ignoring the presence of his troublesome subordinate. Well, on the bright side, he hadn’t put the headphone on, so maybe he was still willing to hear.

“You know…” Yozak started, even knowing that it wasn’t a good start, “…Maybe it’s time for you to be more honest to yourself. And stop holding back.”

Silence. Conrad was still waiting to hear more. At least, Yozak hoped so.

“…Back then, even if your relationship with your little brother wasn’t going smoothly, you were still looking out for him, weren’t you? Despite what people said, you refused to ignore the annoying bratty teenager. You even threatened to barbeque me once for bad-mouthing him after he yelled at you to leave him alone.”

Conrad broke out a soft chuckle, “…I don’t remember saying something like that…”

The red-haired man sighed melodramatically and fluttered his eyelashes, “Well, you didn’t exactly say that, but that’s the impression I got. And you know, I feel quite betrayed for always not being your number one. It’s either your brother or His Majesty… even after all the things we’ve done and shared together…”

Yozak expected being chastised for that, but Conrad only smiled in amusement and relaxed his stance. Perhaps it wasn’t a really bad start for this important conversation, if Conrad could keep his good mood up.

“…Anyway, no matter what Wolfram has done to you… no matter how his words and rejection have hurt you… you still continue to care for him like a good big brother, don’t you? Even now, you’re still hesitating because you don’t want to hurt him, aren’t you? You think that the bond between the two of you is strong and unbreakable. Despite what he often says, you’re still brothers, you have the same mother, and nobody could alter the fact.”

Yozak absently ran his fingers on some random buttons on the machine in front of him. The first button was the green one; it connected the first speaker to the microphone they had installed in the first guest room. Yozak switched the button on, pausing only for a moment to hear only the infinite silence now that the occupier of the room had been arrested. He switched it back off.

“In the beginning, all I could see in your relationship was a sad one-sided brotherly love; you, who tried so hard to please a little brother who didn’t even deserve your attention, and Wolfram who hated you despite everything you had done for him and constantly annoyed me with his bratty attitude.” The second button, the red one; connected to the second guest room that was also empty at the moment. Yozak made a mental note to uninstall all the devices afterwards now that the problem had been solved.

“But after observing for a while, I think I have understood something even you might have missed.”

Conrad stiffened at the last comment, nervously straightening up his stance against the wall as he looked at the redhead curiously.

“…And that is…”

“Mutuality.”

Both men stared at each other for a moment, one with a satisfied smirk, the other with an annoyed frown.

“If you refer to Wolfram’s true feelings about me, it’s something that I have acknowledged.”

“You mean you know that under that cold and harsh attitude he actually loves you about as much as you do him?”

“I’m not that blind.”

Conrad felt decidedly wary when the smirk on his subordinate’s face became more obvious instead of fading as he had hoped. And even worse, he identified the redhead’s current expression as the hated ‘I know something that you don’t’.

“It’s a good start to have acknowledged the fact. But to comprehend the great wisdom I have difficultly achieved with tears and sweat and blood, you’re still missing something.”

“You know, this conversation is going nowhere unless you quickly get to the point and tell me what I’m missing.”

“Such impatience doesn’t suit you at all, dear Commander,” Yozak chided playfully, fully enjoying the rare moment when Conrad didn’t bother to mask his emotions with his usual thick layers of courtesy, “A good teacher isn’t supposed to just give away the answer to a problem to his student without making the pupil work for it, but I guess I could make an exception, since I can’t allow you to waste more time.”

Conrad sighed again and folded his arms, suppressing an urge to tap his foot Wolfram-ishly on the floor while Yozak was bidding his time.

“Thinking logically, what do you tend to do when you’re fond of someone?”

The half-mazoku’s frown deepened. Half-hoping that it wasn’t one of Yozak unfunny ideas of a joke, he replied softly and honestly, “…You don’t hurt them. Or at least regret it deeply after you do.”

“Other than that?”

“…You… easily forgive them for their mistakes?”

“Go on.”

Conrad looked like he was thinking really hard for an appropriate answer that Yozak could hardly contain his laughter. Several stifled giggles escaped, but hopefully went unnoticed.

“…You… do things for them?”

“And you’ll also do it for the people you love?”

“Yes.”

“Wolfram included?”

“Of course.”

“Your mother loves you too, doesn’t she?”

“…Yes, I believe so.” The brunet finally answered, after taking one large deep breath and counting to ten in his mind, Yozak presumed.

“She does things for you then.”

“She does.”

“Your older brother loves you too?”

Conrad placed a hand on his sword, only to keep himself calm, Yozak hoped. As much as he loved and would also do things for his best friend, he still wished to walk out of this problem with his important bits still attached to his body, thank you.

“…Yes, he does.”

“He does things for you also.”

“Yes, he does.”

“Everyone who loves you would do the same thing, I suppose?”

Conrad turned his eyes away and tried not to let the other man know of whom in particular he was thinking about at the moment. “Of course, they would.”

“What makes you think that Wolfram wouldn’t then?”

“What do you…” Conrad choked on his own incoming words, coughing a bit before looking back down at the mischievous red eyes in confusion.

“As you have admitted yourself, compassion, tolerance and sacrifice are common traits of love. They just come naturally once you’ve become fond of someone.” Yozak busied his hands with several more colorful buttons, switching them on and off only for the beautiful dim lights they emitted, “You have them, your mother has them, your brothers have them… and also His Majesty, of course.”

Conrad flinched then narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Talking about Yuuri, Wolfram and love at the same time was the very last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

“Just as I thought, your relationship with Wolfram is mutual. Despite how it seems on the surface, you both love and underestimate each other, in your own ways.” Yozak continued obliviously, mentally dodging the imaginary daggers the other man was throwing at him.

“Wolfram hates the fact that your blood is tainted with human blood, and thinks that he’s doing you a favor by continually liking you despite your ‘imperfection’, inwardly of course.” Yozak absently noticed the last button on the row, and how dusty it looked compared to the others, “And you, are often hurt by his rejections and think that he will never overcome the fact that you’re only half-mazoku. You think he’ll keep hating humans, you think he’ll never grow, you think he’ll keep his immaturity forever, and he’ll…”

“That’s not true,” Conrad cut, folding both arms to cover his stirring stomach, ignoring the fact that the single gesture could reveal to Yozak’s experienced eyes how nervous he truly felt at the moment. “I just… have given up hope that our relationship will be back as it was before. I have accepted everything. And I’m just content with it as it is, right now. I dare not ask for more.”

Yozak placed a curious finger on the dusty button, brushing it distractedly as he listened.

“Among the three of us, Wolfram has the most promising aptitude to become a good leader. It’s just a pity that he often undervalues himself and listens to the people who want to bring him down.” Conrad spoke quietly, glancing unfocusedly at the murky-colored floor, “What Wolfram needs the most to bring his potential out is someone who will confide in him and his abilities. It’s the least that I can do for him, as the useless older brother that I am.”

Silence fell among the two for a moment, in which Yozak seemed to try with difficulty to find the words of wisdom to conclude the conversation. After furrowing his brows in concentration to no avail, he finally sighed and settled on his usual style, straight and blatant.

“You know, I really think if you want to make him happy, you should trust him to take care of you too.”

Conrad looked up and merely glanced at him, looking almost dazed. It rendered Yozak speechless for another moment only to stare at the rare vulnerable expression on his commander’s face.

“A relationship is between two people. Unconditional as it is between you and your brother, in order to keep it healthy and happy, it still has to be mutual.” Yozak settled on his seat and straightened up to look straight at the unfocused amber eyes, “Give and take. Don’t feel inclined to keep giving without expecting something in return. Don’t you ever think about what Wolfram feels? Do you think he’ll be happy to see you throwing away your chance to be happy for his sake? And hurting the king he loves in the process? You said you know he loves you too.”

Conrad remained quiet, still looking distracted, but Yozak was sure that he had been listening.

“I’m sure it had been a real moment of horror when you first realized you had fallen in love with your brother’s fiancé, who also happened to be the king you were supposed to protect with everything you had. I also understand how much you want to just kill the feeling or let it wither. But now that it has become reciprocal, do you think you’re still able to ignore it?”

Sensing no reply, Yozak continued a tad too zealously, “So in short, or maybe not so short; stop being so stubborn and just accept everything the way it is, because you’ll only hurt more people by avoiding it. Do you get it? The boy loves you and he has even gathered enough courage to confess. You’re supposed to be whooping in joy at this moment; not mourning over a sin you didn’t even commit! Go see the boy and say ‘yes’ now. Or do you want this to end like your relationship with Julia?”

Conrad flinched at the last statement, a mix of expressions started to refill his previously vacant face, “Yuuri isn’t Julia.”

“I never said he was. And I really hope that you don’t see him as her replacement.” Yozak narrowed his eyes accusingly, “You don’t, do you?”

“Yuuri is Yuuri,” Conrad’s annoyed frown faltered as he rested his eyes back on the floor, “I don’t see the past when I look at him. Not with the way he brightens everyone’s life around him. He’s the future, the one who’ll lead us to our bright future. Everything suddenly turns to the better after he arrived here…”

“Which gives you more reason not to disappoint him.”

Conrad stayed silent, eyebrows furrowed in concentration while Yozak was steadily losing his worn patience.

“Look,” the redhead snapped, “standing here contemplating possibility after possibility isn’t going to solve anything. Why do you always have to think every little thing over, wasting so much time over the preparations instead of the real celebration anyway? Try to do something and see if it works; not think about something and measure its percentage of success, damn it!”

“Shut up! Stop trying to tell me what to do!” Conrad retorted in similar exasperation, “I’m not you!”

“Why should you be me to do the right thing?!”

“It’s not the right thing; it’s reckless!”

“It’s not reckless, it’s being simple!”

“It’s not that simple!”

“But it is! You just never bother to simplify it because you’re stubborn and a masochist loser! Once you stop looking for an excuse to put yourself in a tragic heroine position, you’ll realize how simple it actually is, damn it!”

“H—Heroine?“ Conrad choked and started coughing again rather intensely. Obviously, nobody had ever bothered to use the analogy on him before.

Yozak watched in fascination as his commander kept coughing like he had just inhaled a gush of smoke. The tension from their intense argument before just broke inside of his mind, replaced by jovial amusement and great satisfaction for being able to provoke such a reaction from his usually composed commander. Had he known earlier how much the quote he had picked up from one of Anissina’s novels could affect the man; he would have used it sooner.

“You---“ Conrad started, coughing a bit more as he tried to regulate his breaths.

Yozak, who sighed as he waited for the long session of chastisement he was sure to follow up, was both shocked and delighted when the sequence of coughs faded and turned in to suppressed chuckles. When he looked up to confirm it, Conrad was already clutching his stomach for a different reason altogether. His usually pale face was also turning slightly red as cute little noises escaped his mouth during his unsuccessful attempt to keep quiet. It was truly a sight to admire, and Yozak had never seen such powerful mirth in his childhood friend’s eyes since… well… that one time when he had sneaked in to the man’s room, dressed up in a red nightgown and lay on the bed in his most (disturbingly) seductive pose. Of course, Conrad had had to be such an ungrateful jerk and had replaced all the locks the morning after, but it still didn’t change the fact that the half-mazoku had laughed until his stomach hurt at the sight.

“Heroine…” Conrad muttered softly as he straightened up and finally stopped laughing, still a bit breathless, “I guess I deserved it… Didn’t I?”

Yozak entirely blamed it to a romantic scene in the same novel that he had gone as far as to compare Conrad’s smile with the glowing autumn sunrise.

“Hell yeah, you do. Master Yozak always knows best.”

“Yes… you’re right. Not all the time, though.” As always, Conrad was quick when reverting back to his ‘no-nonsense Commander’ persona, much to the redhead’s disappointment. Well, at least the amused smile still remained, and it somehow suited the half-mazoku’s reserved personality better. “Thank you. I think I have been… enlightened, as you have.”

Yozak ‘hmm’ed and nodded sagely, obviously enjoying his role as the ‘enlightener’ a bit too much. “So are you riding back to the castle, straight to the boy’s room, and telling him what he wants to hear now?”

“His Majesty needs his nightly rest,” was Conrad’s immediate answer.

“Like he can rest before hearing your answer.”

The half-mazoku seemed to contemplate the possibility for a moment, before sighing to himself and shaking his head again, “…No. I still need time to prepare. Tomorrow morning, for sure.”

XXX

On the other side of the door, Wolfram released the breath he had been holding and smiled before leaving quietly, savoring the liberating feeling of freedom in each of his step.

XXX

Yozak shrugged and turned his attention back to the dusty button, “If you think so. My guidance ends here. It’s time for the pupil to leave his teacher’s side and go see the world for himself.”

Conrad let out another amused chuckle, remembering Gunter’s exact words when they had parted as teacher and student many years before.

“Well… I thank you for your… guidance.” Yozak only needed to look at him and knew that it was Conrad’s expression every time he wanted to apologize for something. Only this time, it was something he couldn’t understand about.

“And once again… I’m sorry for losing control and hitting you before… I was…”

“Wait a minute,”

Conrad looked down to the other man’s puzzled face.

“You keep apologizing for this… particular incident…” The redhead asked carefully, “I’ve been wanting to ask… when did you hit me anyway?”

Conrad only stared at his subordinate for a moment, expertly appraising the genuinely confused face for any signs of dishonesty. He frowned after finding none.

“You mean… you don’t remember?”

XXX

By the time Yuuri was feeling relatively coherent again, he had been seated and bound on Conrad’s office chair. If he had to find one positive thing about his current situation, it had to be the faint but still intoxicating scent of Conrad slightly overpowering the incense for a moment.

His assailant, still disguised as one of the special guards, was now standing before him, looking as unreadable as the one at the night of the incident. While the situation felt familiar, he could somehow sense agitation his previous attacker hadn’t had in the dark figure. It almost felt like this person still had feelings… and he still had a bigger chance of survival.

“You… are that man’s most precious person, aren’t you?” The previously cheerful voice was now trembling, and sounded so heartbreakingly soft, “…Because of you… that person has…”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat when the assassin suddenly slammed the steel sheath of his sword on to the wooden desk, which cracked apart after the loud and powerful crash. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Yuuri wondered if the crumpled and scattered papers on the floor meant that Conrad had been relieved from the tedious signing documents-job for the rest of the week. For that reason alone, he’d forgive the violent assassin for destroying Conrad’s desk.

“…Such a king… Tonight will be the end of your reign, yet you’re facing it so calmly…” The man in black seemed to have noticed the king’s sudden fixation towards the papers around their feet. “You’re a good king. I wish I didn’t have to kill you. I wish he hadn’t been sent here to kill you. I know it’s not your fault, but this has to end this way. I’m sorry.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at the apology. He didn’t often come across someone who both wanted to kill him and felt sorry for it. There was no mistake; this assassin was nothing like the previous one. This one still had heart. Which meant that he might be able to escape… with some creative improvisations. Maybe. He didn’t really want to die before hearing Conrad’s answer, after all.

“Hey, mister assassin… ano…” Yuuri felt the need to raise his hand the way he would do when interrupting a class, but then remembered that neither of his hands was accessible to use.

The assassin turned to him, still expressionless with the gas mask on him. Yuuri noticed with delight that now that his body had once experienced the incense, it didn’t affect him as much as it had before.

“I wonder… you have been talking about ‘this person’, ‘he’, ‘precious one’… but I don’t really get the whole story here. You see... I haven’t been a bright student, so… could you please explain it to me before you kill me?”

With the lame excuse, Yuuri felt really lucky to have the assassin even considering the option. Why would people want to talk, lecture and reminisce before killing someone anyway? It was only something that happened in lame, old movies his mother happened to watch all the time.

Brilliant, Yuuri, he cringed inwardly, now he’ll be even more suspicious…

“…I understand. I’ll tell you.”

...and my chance of survival is getting---WHAT?

Ignoring the obvious shock on the king’s face, the assassin settled himself comfortably on the wreck of the previously whole desk and took a deep breath, before starting his tale.

“I was about twelve years old when I met him for the first time… it was seventy years ago…”

While it was good to stay alive just a little longer, Yuuri suppressed a yawn.

XXX

“You don’t remember?”

Yozak shook his head, still looking confused. “Hell, I might be a little forgetful sometimes, but something like that can’t just be forgotten. So either something is wrong with my head, or yours.”

Conrad leaned back against the wall and tried to recall the incident. No, it couldn’t be a dream. He could still remember it so vividly, the conversation they had had at the time… Yozak’s bruises… the scratch on his chin… Yozak’s comment on his boots… Yes. The boots.

“…Yozak… do you by any chance know who gave me these boots?”

Yozak looked down at the after mentioned boots and frowned pensively, “Let me guess… His Majesty?”

Conrad tensed. So, if it hadn’t been this Yozak he had argued with… who could it have been?

For some reason, all he could think of was… a damn pink ballerina dress.

XXX

Half an hour through the midnight tale, all Yuuri’s drowsy brain could pick up was the rather… affectionate childhood friendship between his current assailant and the previous one. Another half an hour passed, he found out how this sweet and shy guy, who had also happened to be the one who had pointed a sword to his face just several weeks before, had turned in to a heartless man after the death of his entire family in a fire accident. A quarter of hour passed, and he learned that this taleteller man had especially joined the assassin army only to bring his best friend back, and had failed numerous times to bring his friend’s inner ‘nice guy’ out. During the next ten minutes, Yuuri’s assailant ranted about how their current master, who was basically your ordinary nasty villain, had ordered his childhood sweetheart to invade Blood Pledge Castle to kill the demon king in the last mission, which had ended in his death.

Yuuri had known about the fact; perhaps since the very moment he had opened his eyes and had recognized the smell of air-freshener, that his room had become a rather dangerous battleground during his involuntary sleep. Faintly mixed with the thick scent of lemon was metallic blood. And the carpet was brand new. He should have known.

After hearing the number of lives lost that night, it had occurred to Yuuri that perhaps the assassin had deserved his death penalty. But now, sitting in front of someone who mourned over the loss of the cruel man’s life, he found himself giving out as much sympathy as he had when he had personally gone out to meet and encourage each victim’s family. A loss was a loss, and even the worst kind of person still had someone who cried at their burial. He even started wishing that he had been awake at the time to stop the killing.

It was when the king realized that he never did find out who his ‘savior’ was that night. Everyone had only nervously dodged him when he had come to them for detailed explanation, including Conrad. When the assassin told him that his best friend had been the best swordsman in their army, Yuuri started to feel nervous. Someone as powerful and heartless as the man couldn’t have possibly been taken down easily, and as far as Yuuri knew, there were only a few men in the castle who could have been strong enough to defeat such a talented swordsman. Conrad was one of them. But surely… surely… it wasn’t him? Yuuri just needed to make sure.

“…Umm… about the killer of your best friend…” The king looked up warily, “Maybe you know… his name or something?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to forget the name even if I want to as I live.” The assassin’s tone sounded strained, “It’s Weller. Conrad Weller. The one I’m going to bestow with eternal plight as I kill you. I can’t think of a better way to punish him for what he has done.”

The assassin kept talking about his anger, how he was going to take his revenge and how his best friend was going to be pleased with him, but Yuuri was no longer listening. It felt wrong, so wrong to have blamed Conrad for killing to protect him. Of course Conrad had killed people; probably more than the half-mazoku’s gentle looks could ever imply. Yuuri understood---or at least had tried to; it was rather easy to delude himself in to believing what he wanted to believe when all the man showed him were sweet smiles and a thoughtful attitude. Conrad had only done what he had needed to do to keep his promise; the very first promise the man had made only a moment after they had met.

Despite his situation, Yuuri smiled fondly at the memory. Conrad had undoubtedly been his knight in shining armor, and the man had always been there for him. The king was only snapped out of his daydream when he felt the piercing coldness of the sword against his neck. He didn’t even notice that his involuntary jolt had also drawn a little blood. The sting of pain had gone unnoticed as he focused both dark eyes on the expressionless gas mask and through the two eyeholes. Somehow, like this, he felt like he could understand the man’s grief better, like there was no mask between them to hide it.

“Was it a funny story? You seem to be enjoying yourself,” the assassin remarked coldly as he pressed the sword closer, drawing another trickle of blood from the open cut on the raven-haired king’s pale neck, “Did you like the story? I hope you did, since it would be the last story you’d ever hear. It should have been special, shouldn’t it?”

“It was special,” Yuuri stated firmly, still holding his gaze steadily, “Whether it would be the last or not, I’ll never forget it.”

“Sweet-talking me won’t save your life.”

“I know.”

“What were you smiling about?”

Yuuri stayed silent, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“A fond memory, which is mine alone.” He finally replied, a tad possessively.

The assassin was taken aback by the answer, if the slight shift of his blade had been an indication.

“…You’re not going to try and escape? You look quite content where you are.”

“Trust me, I’m all but content sitting here like this, and I assure you I’ll try to escape the first chance I get.” Yuuri shrugged and mumbled softly, mostly to himself, “…I can’t die here… not before I hear his answer…”

Another moment of awkward silence passed, in which the assassin only kept pressing the edge of his sword against his prey’s neck without actually making the killing. Yuuri had only looked at him with a frown, before deciding that the staredown match had become rather tiring for his sleep-deprived eyes to carry on.

“Why won’t you kill me? Don’t you want to get this over with quick before somebody comes?” The king asked, as cautiously as he could. Despite his statement, he still pretty much hoped to live.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not hesitating at all about ending your life tonight.” The assassin sounded like he meant the total opposite, but Yuuri wisely decided not to point it out. “I’m just thinking that your quick death won’t probably be enough to avenge my best friend. There has to be something I can do to make it more… painful. And anyway, I assure you that nobody would come. So scream as loud as you want.”

Yuuri cringed at the suggestion of a painful death and suddenly wished that incense had actually taken a stronger effect on him.

It was when the assassin put his sword away Yuuri started to feel the rather painful sting of the open cut on his neck (the damn paralyzing incense definitely did not work). The idea of a slow and painful death sounded Really Bad. He’d rather not experience that; especially not this young, thank you very much.

Then suddenly his eyes fell on Morgiff, which had somehow been hurled on the floor, just a few feet near him. Maybe if he could distract the assassin just for a moment, he’d be able to reach it with his left foot, then…

The masked man followed his rather intense stare and spotted the unusually quiet sword. “So this is the infamous demon sword?”

Yuuri inwardly groaned. There went his only chance of survival.

“Looks like a nice sword,” the assassin commented lightly as he reached down to obtain it.

…Or maybe he still had a chance. Morgiff usually didn’t let anybody else but the demon king to touch it, and people didn’t normally expect their swords to bite their hand down. This could definitely work. Morgiff would distract the assassin for long enough for him to make his escape. He just needed to work on the bindings around his hands and feet or maybe he could just drag the chair with him…

“It is a nice sword,” the assassin picked the sword up and appraised it for a moment, surprisingly, without losing any of his fingers, “A tad weird, but still nice. This is one of the best swords I’ve ever seen.”

Yuuri glared at the still unresponsive sword. Of all the moments, why did it have to choose now to stay quiet and sit tight like a good sword?

“Do you mind if I try to swing it?” The assassin suddenly turned to him, catching the king off-guard with the odd request for a moment. Well, not every castle intruder went around and asked for permission to touch a sword from his hostage.

“Go ahead,” Yuuri replied without thinking. Anything that could buy him more time until help (hopefully) arrived would be acceptable. Even if he didn’t want to, it wasn’t like he could do something to prevent the trespasser from doing so, after all.

The tall man swung Morgiff once, twice, with a perfect swordsmanship stance, making Yuuri feel even more unenthusiastic about his chance of survival. He had been wondering when the other guards would find the (hopefully just) fainted guard in front of the door, but he guessed, even if they found the body, this talented swordsman was going to give them a hard time. Worst case, more killings would occur, and Yuuri absolutely refused to witness or be a part of the butchery while not being able to do a thing to stop it. While a scene like that was potential for bringing the all-powerful Maou out of him, which hadn’t occurred for quite a while now, Yuuri still wanted to keep bloodshed to the minimum.

“…A good sword…” the masked assassin suddenly whispered while clutching on the sword tightly, very quietly that it almost went unnoticed, “…it really is… a good sword… you’re taking very good care of it… it’s…”

Sensing that he was witnessing a rare vulnerable moment, Yuuri decided that the assassin was probably distracted enough to not notice his struggles to release himself from the bindings. Until the cold and piercing edge of a sword, which was now Morgiff, was once again pressed again the tender skin of his neck. Yuuri winced. The blood from the previous cut hadn’t even stopped trickling yet.

“…Why… why are you always leaving me behind?” The assassin whispered softly, and miserably. Yuuri was secretly glad that he didn’t have to have direct contact with the man’s eyes. It’d be just too odd to feel sympathy towards someone who was about to reward him with a slow and painful death.

“I always did my best… so I wouldn’t get left too far behind you… but you… never… cared… you never… looked behind your back… to look for me…”

Yuuri stared at the assassin in front of him in puzzlement. He hadn’t known the man in black in front of him for more than two hours yet he could easily see that the hired assassin wasn’t acting like himself. It was almost like he was talking to someone else. But there were only the two of them in the room… right?

“I was always content, just by being able to stay by your side and watch your back… but you… why did you insist to go on the mission alone? And why did you have to yell like that to me? You know I was not doubting your abilities; I just wanted to make sure that you’d come back home in one piece, damn it!”

Yuuri shivered. Now it was getting creepy. This man was definitely talking to his dead friend!

“A… Look, I know you miss your friend a lot, but…”

“SHUT UP!”

Yuuri jolted, still staring up at the dark eyeholes nervously.

“The last time I listened to you, you ended up DEAD! I won’t trust you anymore! I’m not listening to you anymore! You don’t always know the best! I should have known!”

If a bloodthirsty and strong assassin had been scary, a bloodthirsty, strong, hysterical, more or less not right in the head, talking to the dead assassin had proved to surpass everything else in the level of eeriness. Yuuri could feel a little half of his soul departing already when the man raised Morgiff high and all too ready to chop his dear anatomies apart.

“I’m so sorry for this… but rest assured, I’ll see you again… soon.”

XXX

A loud clash of swords echoed in the mostly empty basement. The two present observers could only stare at the speaker in disbelief, before looking at each other inquiringly. None of them actually knew what was going on at the time.

Then it came, a loud, yet incoherent yell, and more crashing sounds.

Recovering from his shock, Conrad rose, “…Which room is it?”

“I don’t remember,” Yozak turned to the pink button, now glowing smugly in the darkness, “There’re only three rooms we put the surveillance microphones at in this mansion. This one…”

“STOP IT!”

Both Yozak and Conrad jumped at the all too familiar voice, then shivered as the noises of heavy struggles continued. As much as they could comprehend, someone was attacking the king, who was still shouting at whoever it was to stop.

Something is happening to Yuuri… it’s just like that night only that I won’t make it this time if I don’t hurry dear Shin MaouIwon’tmakeitTHIStimeI’vefailedtoprotecthimandIhaven’teventoldhim----

“WHICH ROOM?!” Conrad repeated stridently, making Yozak wince with the intensity.

“It’s… just… wait for a moment…”

“WHICH”

“You---damn, wait for moment, damn it, I’m just starting to remember here!” The redhead snapped back while encouraging his brain to keep going, flipping through memory after memory… until…

“…Your office…” Yozak whispered out, relieved that he had actually been able to remember it under the pressure, “…I put this one in your office. Years and years ago…”

When he looked up again, he couldn’t say he was surprised to have been greeted by the sight of the empty space where his Commander had been standing at just a moment before.

XXX

Negotiating just wouldn’t do, Yuuri should have known. But there was actually little else he could do about his current situation. Morgiff had actually sided with him, which was good news, but the gemstone-less sword had also seemed to have exhausted the last drop of its energy preventing the assassin from slashing him in to little bits and relieving him from his bounds. Morgiff was no more than an ordinary sword lying on the floor, and now it was all up to him, his half-paralyzed body and his hesitant, amateurish strikes which had an almost zero chance of hitting the right target.

Yuuri dared not think about his chance of survival again.

“…W---I said, wait for a moment! Think about it for a moment!” Yuuri gasped out as he dodged another close call and thanked Shin Maou for also siding with him that he had been able to stay alive for more than five minutes against this psychotic, talking-to-the-dead killer. As the result, though, Conrad’s previously orderly office had been reverted in to utter wreckage. On the bright side, Conrad would definitely be desk-jobless for the rest of the week. On the bleaker side of things… well… actually everything looked kind of dark at this moment. He had lost count of how many times he had bumped and tripped over things during the chase.

“Let’s---talk this---over!” Yuuri said as he swayed and ducked behind the fallen cabinet, glancing guiltily at Conrad’s ripped accounting book on the floor next to his feet. It would have to be a real pain to rewrite it later.

A slash, the cabinet was sliced apart like tofu under his mother’s knife. Yuuri breathed hard and forced his feet to keep moving, anywhere.

“I know---your friend---“ Yuuri wondered how many times he had circled the room, and yet hadn’t been able to find the exit door he had been longing for, “---means---the world---to you! But---“

Yuuri threw himself against the wall, moving both arms aimlessly on the wall, looking for the door in the overwhelming darkness. He had long lost his sense of direction ever since Morgiff’s sudden burst of energy had sent both him and his assailant sprawled across of each other on the floor.

“---You---mustn’t---do something like this! He won’t---appreciate it---if---”

“Wrong. He will.” Replied the calm, muffled voice. Then Yuuri felt something cold, swishing just above his head. Some strands of dark hair fell on his nose. He shivered and quickly crawled down while feeling the wall with both of his hands searching for the door.

“Obviously you don’t know him well enough, do you?”

Yuuri tried to regulate his breaths as he rested his back against the somewhat comforting coldness of the wall. He couldn’t sense the man moving, and he supposed he could take the break, for both of his legs were trembling quite pathetically now.

“I can’t think of anything else that would make him more proud of me than the fact that my first and last killing would be dedicated to him. He always thought I was not strong enough to commit one.”

Yuuri knew that he was supposed to feel really worried that the man was all set on murdering him at the moment, but he couldn’t also help feeling relieved that Conrad wouldn’t be the next target. And the assassin-to-be had also accidentally revealed to him that it would be his first killing. Turned out that the man was no less amateurish than him, after all. He still had no idea how, but hopefully he could use this important bit of information, and perhaps also the man’s unhealthy obsession towards this close friend of his for escape. Yuuri bet that one of the reasons he had been chosen as the target was because the man was jealous for not being able to be there when his childhood sweetheart had passed away…

Yuuri’s eyes twinkled in the darkness. There it was… another ‘weapon’ he could use.

The raven-haired boy swallowed, once, twice, then he found himself opening his mouth and putting his life on his next sentence.

“No, you don’t know.”

Yuuri gasped loudly as a hand closed dangerously against his still sore throat and pressed, pushing him up on his slightly shaking feet against the wall. For a moment, the pain caused by the open and aggravated cuts on his neck was so unbearable that he couldn’t think of anything else, but soon the pain numbed with time. He would have definitely freaked out to see how his blood had painted a thin, red line on his assailant’s hand, though.

“What do I not know about my own best friend?” The tone of the man’s question was firm and deep, implying everything hell could offer if it wasn’t answered properly. “Are you saying that you know him better than me?”

“Not---really---“ Yuuri coughed out, struggling to keep fresh air sufficiently stocked in his system to keep his brain working, “His last words---you didn’t hear it, did you?”

Then the assassin suddenly dropped him on his back. Yuuri moaned loudly as he rubbed a rather painful bump his abrupt fall had caused on his scalp. On the bright side, Yuuri didn’t think that the incense would be strong enough to knock him unconscious now that both stinging aches on both his head and his neck had joined hands to keep him awake.

“Last… words…” The assassin muttered dazedly, “…I want to hear… I want to hear it… what did he say?”

Yuuri took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, willing his body to relax for a moment. It wouldn’t do to get nervous and reveal his ‘white lie’.

“He… kept calling your name…” Yuuri ran his right hand, feeling the wall under his shaking fingertips again. The door had to be somewhere around the spot, he had seen the glimpse of it just a moment before, when the clouds had left the moon unblocked for a while.

“Then he said… how much he cared about you…”

Yuuri’s heart almost jumped in joy as he felt the rough surface of wood. He had found it! And now he only had to distract the intruder before running out for help. He had heard some guards passing by before. If he had the right timing, he might run into some of them. Why any of the guards hadn’t yet to notice the unconscious guard’s body outside the door never occurred to him.

“…Said that he regretted… how bad he had treated you…”

Rising slowly on his feet, Yuuri’s fingers fumbled for the doorknob.

“And he wished you happiness… and a better life…”

Pushing the knob open slowly, Yuuri prepared himself for another long run to safety, “…asked you to leave the assassin army and…”

The door was finally open. Yuuri could vaguely hear loud thumping noises from across the room as he turned around and pushed the door open. But before he could get too far away, he felt a strong hand roughly gripping his shoulder, before hurling him back inside the room viciously.

“Liar…”

Yuuri tried to get up and realized in horror that he couldn’t feel his right arm, and his left foot shrieked in pain the moment it made contact with the floor. The king stumbled backwards and fell back against the wreckage that had previously been Conrad’s desk.

“…Liar… Prepare to die…”

When Yuuri looked up, he could see the dark shadow looming closer to him before quickly squeezing both of his eyes back shut. That was it; the end of his very short life. He would never see Conrad again… wouldn’t hear his answer… He would never be able to transport back to his world to meet his family, his mother, his father, his brother, his friends, Murata, the other Murata, Wolfram, the other Wolfram, Gunter, Gwendal, Yozak, Anissina, Cheri, Gisela…

Yuuri shut his eyes tighter as he felt a gush of sweet-smelling wind on his face, followed by a loud thud and muffled curses. After a minute passed and he still felt pretty much alive, he reopened his eyes and saw… pink?

The lights were suddenly on, forcing Yuuri to close his eyes again and take some time to adjust to the sudden brightness. Then he could feel warm touch on his back and gentle familiar voice asking if he was all right. Yuuri nodded while scrubbing his eyes vigorously, trying to get them to recover as soon as possible so he could see what on earth was going on there.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes again was Murata’s concerned face, and something pink in the background. Dismissing the odd pink mass for a moment, he sat up and glared at the smiling fairy.

“Murata! Where have you been?! I looked for you all over the place! Where’s Wolffie?”

“Right here, assessing your mess.” The blond fairy replied wryly from the top of the pink cotton mound as he scanned the utterly derelict room with a frown, “What have you done to this place anyway? Messing with wind magic? I told you to stick to doing what you’re good at.”

“I didn’t do any---ow!” A painful sting on his foot reminded Yuuri why he had been sprawled helplessly there in the first place, “---Just---that man you’ve buried under the---Wait, is that cotton candy?”

“Yep, it is. A suitable magic for us, don’t you think so?” Murata’s eyes twinkled playfully, “And it tastes really good. Want to give it a try?”

“No, thanks.” Now that he knew that the pink mound had a body buried under it, Yuuri didn’t think he’d be able look at the candy the same way again. “And thanks for saving my life. When did you get here anyway?”

“Just a moment ago, and this time I’m thankful that my brother had messed the teleportation up again that we have ended up here instead of in our room as planned. And… oh, you’re bleeding…” Murata winced as he examined the twin cuts on Yuuri’s neck. The wound was starting to heal and the blood had stopped flowing, but the red hand mark on it made it look ten times worse than its actual condition. “We need to get you treated as soon as possible. Can you stand?”

Yuuri experimentally tried to step on his foot and gasped again in pain before shaking his head regretfully. He wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not, but his previously numb arm had finally started to hurt.

Murata stood up and turned to a direction, which was not Wolffie’s. “We have to carry him. Yozak-two, could you lend us a hand?”

Yuuri blinked at the name. Then he turned around to find the redhead standing with his usual smug stance near the window.

“Yo,” ‘Yozak-two’ raised a hand to greet the still blinking king before rising on his feet to approach him, “nice to meet you.”

Out of reflex, Yuuri followed the gesture and raised a hand too to answer the greeting, still staring at the smiling man unblinkingly, “You are…”

“Yozak-two, as your dear fairy had mentioned.” The redhead who was either Yozak himself or his identical twin knelt down next to the king and scrutinized the king in return, “Man, those bruises look bad… you look pretty beaten up. My master will definitely yell at me for this…”

Yuuri blinked again in confusion at his last statement. “…Master?”

“Yes, my former master actually,” ‘Yozak-two’ grinned playfully, “who I bet is running frantically to this place right now for you. And that’s why I don’t think it’s wise for me to lay a hand on you yet. He might mistake me for your violator and----“

”YUURI!!!!”

As if on cue, the door was once again slammed open, revealing the man Yuuri had been aching to meet since a little while before, when he had realized that his death had been once more postponed.

“---kill me.” ‘Yozak-two’ completed calmly before stepping away and let his ‘master’ dash forward to get to the dazed boy. Murata quickly gestured Wolffie to climb down and chanted a spell under his breath to dispel the cotton candy, leaving the assassin sprawled on his stomach on the floor, still unconscious (from sugar-overload, Yuuri suspected).

“Yuuri! How are you feeling?” Conrad placed a careful hand on Yuuri’s back carefully before letting the boy lean on his chest, refraining hard not to give the king a possessive Gunter-ish hug while savoring the body warmth with infinite gratefulness. Thank Shin Maou… He had thought that he would have definitely been too late…

“Conrad…” Yuuri managed out feebly. Relief washed over him now that the long night had finally been over. And here he was, safe in his beloved’s arms. Now he could die happy.

“I’m okay… just…” The king looked down at his bruised body and swallowed, “…Nothing life-threatening… I guess.”

Conrad frowned as he spotted the bloody hand mark on the boy’s wounded neck. “This is bad. You need to be treated, now. Let’s go back to your room.”

“W---wait! No! Let me stay here a little longer!” Yuuri protested as he clung to the half-mazoku’s shoulder, feeling perfectly justified to act spoiled just for that once. After all, he had just survived an unbelievably rough night. “Please… a little longer. I promise I’ll be okay. Just stay. Here.”

Maybe prettily sparkling miserable ‘don’t you love me enough to do as I say?’ eyes were a part of the ‘X’ factor every Maou carried, since Conrad always found his determination crumble under the very same look from his mother.

“…I understand. We’ll stay, a little longer.”

Yuuri smiled as he felt Conrad relax and put his arms around him. If almost getting killed meant he’d be able to relish this comfortable warmth again, he’d fight assassins for his life every night.

Both half-mazoku stayed in the position for a seemingly long moment, until a loud distracting cough broke Conrad’s full undivided attention for his king’s sweetly smiling face, his king’s body warmth, his king’s hand clutching on his uniform… and the other seemingly endless wonders the king’s presence alone could bring in to his world.

It was when he suddenly noticed how cramped his usually vast office was… And was it really the second division’s infamously authoritarian lieutenant who was sniffling on a frilly pastel-colored handkerchief over there?

After scanning the room for a while, Conrad stared in horror as he realized that he personally knew almost half of the present ‘observers’, who were all refined dedicated warriors and were currently staring at him with glassy affectionate eyes. He totally took back what he had thought about new recruit’s adoring sparkly eyes were always worse than the old ones; now that he was experiencing both at the same time, he knew that sparkling eyes were unnerving; coming from a new recruit or not. Had those people followed him on his way back to the castle anyway? He couldn’t remember anything but his blind dash towards this place.

Conrad cleared his throat, not knowing how and what to explain now that he had been caught with his arms full of the king, “…Danger has been averted… I think. Please leave this room quietly, and leave two special guards in front of the room for assisting me with the criminal later. Thank you.”

XXX

After the still swooning soldiers and guards had left the room, Conrad belatedly took notice of the three other ‘strangers’ in the room. The first one was a teenager at around Yuuri’s age, with somewhat unmatched pale blond hair and unnervingly knowing crimson eyes.

The second was the red-eyed Wolfram he had met before. Before, he had been too dazed to take a closer look, but now, he could easily see the differences between this person and his little brother. It didn’t make him feel less amazed about their astonishing physical resemblance, though.

Lastly, he turned to the third person and frowned. He had run like he had never done before to reach the place as soon as possible but Yozak had actually managed to arrive earlier?

“Umm… Conrad…” Yuuri straightened his back. He wasn’t sure how, but the pain did lessen a lot after Conrad had started to hold him. “Let me introduce you to my guests. They are the friends I mentioned to you before, Murata and Wolffie. You must have noticed Murata present during the rehearsal.”

Conrad nodded. He had several times spotted the boy with pale blond hair around the stage before, but had never really given him any special attention. He had thought that the boy had been a soldier from Wolfram’s squad.

“Nice you meet you, I’m Murata. And here’s my little brother, Wolffie.” Murata bowed down politely, gesturing to the scowling Wolfram-look-alike beside him, “We came from a faraway country to pay King Yuuri a visit, and we’re really grateful that Lady Anissina has kindly let us join in the preparations for your upcoming festival.”

“…I see,” Conrad gave both boys a speculative look. For a moment, Murata had an absurd fear that the man might have found out about their real identity by the first look. He dismissed the anxiety of being thoroughly scrutinized as Conrad smiled and thanked them for protecting Yuuri.

Looking at the sincerely grateful and sweet smile, Murata thought that he could understand why his ex-master had helplessly fallen for this man.

“Anyway, what are we going to do with this?” Yozak knelt down next to the unconscious masked assassin on the floor, confiscating the sword and taking off the gas mask, blinking for a moment at the revealed face before turning back to Yuuri. “What do you suggest we do, Your Majesty?”

Yuuri bit his lower lip as he stared at his out cold assailant indecisively. If he let the castle guards take the masked man into custody, the would-have-been-assassin would be killed for sure; especially considering how close to success the murder attempt had been. A part of him wanted to forgive and forget, especially because he knew that the poor man had never killed before, but the other part that had listened to the man’s story vigilantly also knew that the man’s broken heart might never let him get over the past. Instead of escaping his cruel master and looking for a better living, the assassin might very possibly reappear the next night to attempt the same murder to avenge his dead best friend.

After contemplating the choices in vain for a long moment of silence, Yuuri finally turned to Conrad, pleading for help to make his decision.

“…Should we let him go?”

Conrad’s eyes were fixated on the bloody hand mark on the boy’s neck as he firmly shook his head.

“We can’t take the risk of his reappearance next time.”

“But---“

“I’m sorry, I might sound selfish.” Conrad murmured apologetically as he brushed the young king’s hair gently, “But I can’t forgive him for doing this to you.”

Yuuri looked back at the older half-mazoku with the same apologetic glance before turning his eyes back to the unmoving body of the assassin. “…I understand… but… can you at least make sure that he’ll be… safe?”

Conrad took another deep breath before submitting in to a nod. There sure were perils of having an overly affectionate king.

“Yozak, please call the two special guards I have assigned in front of the room to take him.”

The redhead nodded once before rising to his feet and did as he had been told.

Yuuri watched forlornly as the two gas-masked guards entered the room and picked the fainted assassin up like the man weighed nothing. Despite Conrad’s weak protest regarding his injuries, Yuuri called and asked them to wait just before they left the room. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be allowed to meet the man again after this, and there was still unfinished business between them. It would have been a lot better if the man had been conscious to listen to him, but at least this last conversation might make him feel less… guilty for not being able to help more than what he had done.

“Please… bring him over here. There’s something I need to tell him before you take him away.”

The two guards looked at each other hesitantly before turning to Conrad for the final decision. After receiving an approving nod, they finally obeyed and turned their captive over.

Yuuri stared at the boy in front of him in shock. Now that he took a closer look, it turned out that this person who had almost ended his life that night didn't look a year older than him. A voice in the back of Yuuri's mind reminded him that it was Shin Makoku, where appearances could be very deceiving. But still, watching the young, peacefully asleep face of the boy who didn't know what kind of punishment waited for him by the time he regained consciousness hurt. One wasn't supposed to feel that bitter at such a young age (Shin-Makoku style). Young ones were supposed to have more fun, do more things, try new experiences, find love… which the boy had lost, forever.

Now when he thought about it, maybe he wasn't that different from this assassin. Had Conrad also been killed, he'd probably do the exactly same thing to seek revenge, because with the death of those we loved, life no longer held its preceding meaning. He'd probably disregard his own life and point of view, the way the boy had done. He'd probably break down and throw everything else away, the way the boy had done. He'd probably slash through somebody's body without feeling guilt or hesitation...

"Yuuri..."

Yuuri jolted as he felt the always, always warm hand on his cold cheek, then realized that he was shivering. He was too ashamed to look straight at the man in the eyes, but the warm touch on his chin, which subtly motioned him to look up, was almost impossible to deny.

"Don't risk it," The look in Conrad's face would have turned Yuuri's legs in to jelly, hadn't the young king been leaning against the older man in the first place. As the overall result of this compromising position, his whole body felt like it had been made of jelly now.

"You don’t want him to repeat the same mistake again, do you?” Conrad whispered to his ear softly, making the king shiver helplessly at the tickling sensation. He was sure that even the older man himself didn’t realize how persuasive he could be. With simple touches and words, Conrad could make him reconsider everything; including his preference as Yuuri had proven in person before.

“Please let me take care of this,” the older man continued, oblivious to the boy’s discomfort and wrapped his arms more securely around the squirming young king instead, “I promise I'll do anything within my power to keep his punishment as light as possible. Will you trust me to handle this, Yuuri?"

Feeling not coherent enough to manage out something other than an incoherent gurgle, Yuuri only nodded in reply and looked down sheepishly, all dark thoughts blown away like a heap of autumn leaves.

"...Can we take him away now?" One of the special guards suddenly spoke up, reminding Yuuri that unlike what he had glimpsed in those romantic shoujo manga his mother read, other people around him didn't just magically vanish and the background didn’t turn in to flowers and bubbles just because a star-crossed couple who had just been reunited was relishing each other's presence.

"Yes," Yuuri turned his eyes back to the unconscious assassin, feeling less guilty to let the boy go now after hearing Conrad's promise. "Please take a good care of him."

"Trust us we will." The guard strode forward to pick the boy up again. Yuuri stared intently as the skull-tattooed hand reached for the boy's feet and…

…Wait a minute…

Skull-tattoo… was that…

When Yuuri looked up to confirm his suspicion, he was once more greeted by the rather creepy sight of the gas mask. But now, he could tell for sure that it was the very same guard who had walked along with him and his attacker before. He thought that the man had been knocked unconscious before, but why was he standing here looking fine now? And why hadn’t he spoken anything about the incident? If he had woken up earlier, why hadn’t he come to his rescue? Had he been too disoriented to remember everything? But why…

Yuuri turned and stared back at the tattoo in morbid fascination, at the dark eyeholes and sinister grin of the skull. “You are…”

The next thing Yuuri remembered after that was Conrad’s voice calling for him, then the familiar darkness.

The Maou… Yuuri thought dazedly. He could see his aloof alter ego looking down at him, as he was sinking slowly in his realm of consciousness. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see more clearly, to guess what the king was trying to say, as it felt like both of his ears weren’t functioning at all. He could only see the other him’s lips moving in a slow motion. It almost looked like the demon king was spelling Conrad’s name, but then again, he knew better than relying on his lovesick-clouded judgment.

Then suddenly everything went dark, and he felt warm hand on his cold forehead, caressing his hair in the gentlest manner that could only belong to one person.

“…I planned to tell you this tomorrow morning… but…”

He could already smell the sweet scent that could always lull him to sleep at night, and had powerfully dispelled the most frustrating insomnia he had suffered the first night after the murder attempt.

“I’ve wasted enough time.”

Yuuri felt himself forming a smile in his sleep, relishing the warm comfort and relief the simple touch offered.

“I don’t want to let you wait any longer…”

When he felt a gush of warm breath near his ear, Yuuri thought that he’d jump awake that instant.

“And I don’t want to hold back anymore.”

But he didn’t.

“Yuuri, I…”

And when the three words he had been agitatedly waiting for were finally delivered to him, with the exact affectionate tone he had expected them to come with, Yuuri finally fell asleep, a wide, contented smile still gracing his lips.

“…Good night. Sleep well. I’ll be watching over you.”

Yuuri sighed blissfully. This was exactly how he wanted to fall asleep every night.

XXX

Gwendal walked out of the interrogation room, looking somewhat satisfied with the result yet unmistakably exhausted. It was a good thing Wolfram had offered to take over the job that the more important bits of information had been collected; the witnessing guards and officials had been quite wary of the dark-haired mazoku or the equally grumpy and sleepless ‘ambassador’ would soon try to kill each other. While it was a bit odd to see the blond being so composed while his older brother wasn’t, they were relieved all the same.

“How was it?” Gunter asked as he handed over a big mug of hot chocolate to the inwardly beaming man.

“They have practically confessed everything, including the plan. Apparently one particular lord we all know so well, the stammering teenager’s father, thinks that our king’s obliviousness towards his… generous shower of gifts means that we’re not on the same side anymore and one of us needs to be eliminated.” Gwendal’s tone softened as he relished the heavenly warmth and sweetness of the liquid. Gunter’s chocolate was always the best, although it was mostly due to the fact that he never let anybody else make hot chocolate for him. “As for what to do with them, we’ll discuss about it in the morning, with the rest of the committee.”

“Hmm…” The silver-haired mazoku nodded slowly, drowsily, “…That was a bad disguise… such an appalling failure…”

Gwendal snorted, having replenished some of his energy, “Young people these days know nothing about history.”

“…Definitely have to teach more to His Majesty…” Gunter agreed, yawning again, “So can we finally get some rest tonight?”

“We should call it a night. I haven’t been able to sleep well since ‘that incident’.” Gwendal put down his empty mug and loosened his collar, “Let Wolfram and… speaking of which, where’s Conrad? I haven’t seen him since we left the basement.”

Gunter blinked up at him, feeling more awake in a sudden, “I haven’t seen him around either.”

“Is that so…” Gwendal frowned as he marched forward to a small window at the end of the corridor and yanked the curtains open. From a distance, Blood Pledge Castle always looked somewhat gloomy at rainy night, but that particular night it looked just… murky. Like a place you should never consider to visit even for a shelter in the middle of a storm, because it was safer outside…

Gwendal shook the dark thoughts off his mind and turned back to the concerned man behind him, “He’s probably going back to the castle to assure His Majesty’s safety. After all, some of the assassins did get away.”

“They what?” Gunter bit back a gasp, “You mean…”

“Rest assured, I have secured the whole castle. Not even a rat would be able to get in without being noticed, I’m sure of it.” Gwendal explained calmly, “And with Conrad there, the security would be perfect.”

“Oh,” Gunter breathed out a relieved sigh/yawn, "It's good then."

Gwendal turned back to the glass window, watching grimly as the rain poured down with greater intensity. While he was sure that Conrad had had worse, it still made him cringe inwardly to imagine how it would feel like to ride in such weather. Well, it wasn't like Conrad would have listened to his order to stay until the rain lessened. Despite his gentle look, the half-mazoku could be even more stubborn than Wolfram when a certain king was concerned.

"I wish the rain would stop soon."

Gwendal nodded his agreement and stepped to his side to make room for Gunter, who was currently peering over his shoulder. But instead of claiming the available spot, the silver-haired man rested his chin on the other man's shoulder, earning a growl he had gotten so familiar with.

"Get off. You're heavy." The supposedly gruff complaint was somewhat laced with drowsiness which would have sounded out of character of the supposedly stern mazoku… if it wasn’t a little past three in the morning.

"Just... a moment..." Gunter sighed comfortably and leaned even closer, feeling the other man shift slightly under him, “…until the rain… stops…”

“My shoulders would have been stiff by then,” Gwendal complained again, but made no move to pull away. He heard another yawn after a moment, evened breaths, and then utter silence.

“…You’re lucky you make delicious chocolate…”

XXX

All and all, everything had ended well, so this could count as a happy ending. A very happy ending, in fact, as everyone, including the assassin, had actually left the utterly wrecked office smiling. Well, Murata could pleasantly ignore the two newly discovered assassins, seeing how close they were to depriving him of his ex-master that night. He didn’t want to know what would have happened if Yuuri hadn’t noticed the tattoo sooner, if Conrad hadn’t actually been close enough to block the second fake guard’s blow, and if the Maou hadn’t suddenly shown up to take over the situation with his unbending definition of justice.

It had been his first time seeing the real thing, and he had to admit that the power the demon king held had made him feel a bit wary. It was a good thing that Yuuri had been the one trusted with such tremendous power. Had it been someone more ambitious and vicious who believed in a more twisted definition of justice… It was another thing the dream fairy was unwilling to consider.

Wolffie had gone to bed a moment before, complaining about how the lack of sleep was going to increase his appetite in the morning (so there had better be special homemade pancakes with thick syrup coating by the time he woke up). Originally, he had also planned on getting to bed right after leaving the room, but when Conrad had abruptly stopped him and had asked him to wait in the office while the half-mazoku would be tucking the king in the bedroom, Murata knew that he wasn’t going to get any sleep that night. It sounded tiring, yet interesting. Unlike what Wolffie would have done without giving it a second thought, he wouldn’t trade this chance for a good night sleep.

“I’m sorry. Have you waited for long?”

Turning to the half-mazoku cheerfully despite the exhaustion, Murata smiled, “Not at all. Besides, I have a feeling that what you’re going to give me is going to be worth my efforts to stay awake.”

Conrad nodded slowly as he held out a small handbag to the unblinking fairy, studying the boy’s reactions carefully, “…This is yours… isn’t it?”

Murata only stared at his missing bag for a moment before looking up and recovering his smile, “What makes you think so?”

“I found it lying on the ground when I went to the town for the festival’s campaign,” the brunet explained, “…right after two mysterious foreigners knocked a group of scoundrels down with a heap of cotton.”

“Oh,” Murata’s smile never faltered as he rested a hand on his chin and considered the situation. “I suppose you’ve caught us in a rather… embarrassing situation. And what are you going to do about it? Arresting us for causing a commotion in public?”

Conrad shook his head, “That never crossed my mind. In fact, you have relieved us of some of our burdens by teaching those rascals how to behave themselves. I’ll have you know that they have gotten a lot less troublesome after the incident.” The half-mazoku paused, contemplating whether or not to continue for a moment. “…As for their phobia for standing under the clouds fearing that it might fall down on them again… it doesn’t really bother anyone else, so I guess everything’s all right.”

Murata chuckled at the amusing mental image, “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought that you’re actually pleased with my work.”

“Indeed, I am.” Conrad admitted quickly, which surprised the fairy a bit, “…And I’m here… hoping that you could help me with that… unusual magic power of yours.”

“What could it be?” Murata asked neutrally, concealing his curiosity very well.

“That… assassin we’ve just arrested; not the tattooed one and his partner, I mean… the younger one.” At the point, Conrad started to look a bit nervous. Perhaps he himself hadn’t been very sure at the first place, but had decided to do it anyway for his beloved king. Murata, more and less, had been able to guess what the request might have been.

“Could you please… help him escape tonight?”

Bingo. Exactly as expected. Tonight would definitely be an interesting one.

“No problem.” The fairy flexed his fingers in anticipation, “Sounds fun. But may I ask why haven’t you gone to Sir Yozak for help instead?”

Conrad stayed silent for a moment, not sure how to explain how the ‘Yozak’ he had just met kept making random incoherent images flashing and flickering in his mind, worsening his headache. And even worst, he kept imagining the redhead in pink ballerina outfit, holding a fairy-godmother magic stick while singing him an off-tone lullaby.

For the love of Shin Maou, please just let me forget that, Conrad shuddered.

Watching the interesting change of shade in Conrad’s face, Murata giggled inwardly and dismissed the question.

“Then, I’ll be going now. I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I assure you that you can count on me.” The fairy gestured to the small handbag the half-mazoku was still holding on, “And thank you for retrieving my bag. It’s really important to me.”

“It’s not a problem,” Conrad smiled and handed it over, “I don’t usually pick things up on the street and take it home with me, but the dolls inside the bag…”

“Look like you and His Majesty?” Murata cut, grinning mischievously.

Conrad looked taken aback for a moment and felt his cheeks warming slightly, “…Yes.”

With a hearty laugh, the fairy bowed and excused himself, leaving the bewildered man to stare at his back in confusion.

XXX

“Needing assistance?”

‘Yozak-two’ was, expectedly standing outside of the room, folding his arms across his chest while leaning against the wall.

Murata turned to him with a wide smile, “That’s so kind of you. Maybe you can show me the way to the prison?”

“This way,” the redhead turned to one direction and started walking, wearing a similar enthusiastic grin, “finally, some action for the stars.”

“Just try not to lead us to any of those felon-detectors. Otherwise we’ll end up diving head-first in to the pool like those two assassins.”

“Women are scary. Does he remember, anyway?”

“It doesn’t seem so. He thinks I’m just a traveler from a very far place who possesses odd magic.”

“Odd? Well, after the fairy-floss trick you pulled before, I have to agree.”

“I’m against violence.”

“…Okay.” …But he definitely is not against mental-violence.

“By the way, your wings are visible.”

“Oops…”

XXX

The sun had risen and was about to set again when Yuuri finally stirred awake from his deep, satisfyingly content sleep. The memories from last night were blurry and felt like a dream, at least until he felt the sting of pain on various parts of his body when he tried to sit up. After a moment of painful struggle, he finally managed to get his back off the bed. Just as he turned to resettle his pillow for a more comfortable sitting position, he heard someone entering his room, followed by the dull thudding noise of something hitting the carpet. Less than a moment later, Conrad was by his side, taking over the task for him and making sure that he was comfortable in his new position.

Yuuri sighed in bliss, oblivious of his the drinking water that was saturating his brand new carpet.

“Are you feeling okay?” Conrad only threw the rolling empty glass a brief guilty look before turning his attention back to his king, “You shouldn’t be getting up yet if you’re not feeling well.”

“Nah, I’m okay now. A lot better than yesterday, at least.” Yuuri reassured him, dark eyes twinkled cheerfully in spite of his bruised body, “How about you? You aren’t injured or anything, are you? Somehow I can’t remember how I got to bed last night…”

Yuuri relaxed as Conrad placed his pleasantly warm hand on his shoulder and started stroking the sore muscles under his pajama top soothingly.

“Well… I’m not surprised if you don’t remember anything…” The older man explained carefully, “Because the Maou showed up again last night.”

“The… Maou?” Yuuri blinked in shock, “Did he---I… do… something… extreme again?”

Conrad shook his head, resuming his tender caress on the boy’s slightly tensing muscles, “He only did what he needed to. And it all ended well. Everything will be okay from now on. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Yuuri only stared at his lap blankly. His brain felt like it was working very slowly to process the information and generate a reaction. Conrad’s gentle touch on his shoulder was the only thing he wanted to savor at the moment, period.

“I see…” He muttered softly, before turning to the man’s concerned eyes with a weak laugh, “Don’t worry. I’m just a bit… drowsy. I just don’t think I can think about complicated things at this moment. My brain has never been my strong point to begin with, after all…”

Conrad smiled and nodded understandingly, shifting his caressing palm up to the king’s warming cheek and stared, in a way that even Yuuri’s lethargic brain couldn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong?” Yuuri blushed, feeling extremely vulnerable under the intent gaze. He wasn’t usually very aware of his appearance near Conrad, but to get stared at right after waking up… he couldn’t help worrying if the image he was presenting the man wasn’t decent enough.

“Nothing’s wrong with you. Nothing at all.” Conrad whispered his reply softly, his thumb moving slowly to brush the smooth skin under it, never turning his eyes away.

“Listen, Yuuri… there’s something… I need to ask you now.”

The king nodded dazedly, helplessly captivated by the determination and affection in the older man’s eyes.

“You do know that this isn’t going to be an easy road for us, don’t you?”

Realizing how important this question was to Conrad, Yuuri forced his dry throat to cooperate and muttered out a soft, yet steady ‘yes’.

“Right now, you’re Wolfram’s official fiancé. People around us might not be ready for… this. It might greatly affect your reputation as a king. Are you also okay with that?”

Yuuri took a deep breath and replied with another unshakeable ‘yes’, looking a lot calmer.

“Also… are you really sure about… having me?” Now it was Conrad’s turn to fidget under the king’s intense eyes, as he braced himself to continue, “So far I have always been trying to show you the good things only. You might find the real me… disappointing. Are you willing to take the risk?”

Then there was a long pause, which even the battle-hardened Conrad found extremely unnerving. A part of him knew that it was for the best to let Yuuri think it over carefully before making his decision. The boy wasn’t even the legal age yet and like other ordinary teenagers, he might not know what he wanted. But even with this sensible rationalizing, there was a rebellious part of his mind that labeled this action as extremely foolish; the part which kept screaming at him to just ignore everything else and accept this favorable fact that Yuuri loved him; the part that had definitely read Anissina’s script too many times.

“Okay,” Conrad resigned to his fate as Yuuri’s uninjured hand moved up to cover his up, before lowering it slowly on to his lap; the king’s look of total concentration (despite his somnolent brain) suddenly broke in to an enigmatic smile, “But before I answer that, can I tell you something?”

The older half-mazoku nodded quickly, finding the wait excruciatingly taxing. Yuuri had to be real tough to have managed to bear this feeling while waiting for him before.

“You once said that you wouldn’t hesitate to die protecting me,” the boy started while absently stroking the hand he had been holding with the same tenderness it had provided him before, “I only want to let you know that I would do the same thing regarding your safety.”

Conrad widened in eyes in shock and inadvertently raised his voice, “No, you can’t!”

“Yes, I can,” the king replied calmly, “In fact, maybe I can’t help it, because I care about you. Because I don’t want to lose you. Because it comes naturally as I adjust to the fact that I love you. That’s how you feel too, right?”

Conrad was momentarily rendered speechless. While he had been pondering all night long how to carry this conversation on, he definitely was not prepared for a direct love declaration from the uncharacteristically self-possessed king.

“Now you know how selfish it is?” Yuuri’s smile returned, his expression unreadable, “That’s why…”

Conrad found himself struggling to breathe as the raven-haired demon king brought his hand up and pressed the back of his fingers against his soft lips, never once losing the eye contact.

“Let’s make a promise, to not put ourselves in danger, so we won’t be forced to take that course of action that will hurt the other. Will you renew your promise with that one?”

The situation was somewhat unfair, because Conrad didn’t think that anyone in his current place would actually be able to say ‘no’. But he nodded and felt like a winner anyway as he felt Yuuri’s smile widen under his fingers.

“Great,” the boy remarked cheerfully as he lowered the older man’s hand and held it tightly in his healthy hand, “You are always careful and that makes you a reliable person. It’s one of the traits I like about you.”

Conrad looked down from the king’s bright face to their intertwined fingers, but the gesture somewhat intensified his already flaring embarrassment. Despite his great achievement, Conrad could never get used to praises, especially the sincere ones that came from his loved ones.

“There are a lot of things I don’t know about you yet, and I know things aren’t going to go as well as we both hope between the two of us,” Yuuri continued smoothly, relieved that the most pressuring part of their conversation had been over. All the nervousness had been gone, replaced by blinding delight. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time. “But as long as we confide in each other, I believe that we can overcome anythign. Let’s just stay together and we’ll work it out. Is it okay for you?”

Yuuri decided that it was another sensation of déja-vu when Conrad looked up at him with that delightful expression and nodded again, before pulling him in to a warm embrace. The moment felt so perfect that he immediately gave up on trying to recall the continuation of the scene in his dream. This was enough. This was more than enough.

“Do you have anymore questions?” Even in his blissful state, Yuuri just had to tease, as he found Conrad’s insecurity and questions very cute. And here he was, thinking that the man had nothing to feel unconfident about.

“…No.” Conrad leaned closer; still feeling a little lightheaded from the almost overwhelming happiness, “Let’s just… stay together.”

It was another thing Yuuri didn’t need to think over before agreeing.

They stayed in that position for a long time… until Conrad very belatedly realized that he had left the door conveniently open for accumulating spectators and found himself once again caught red-handed with his arms full of the king of the nation.

“Mom,” whined a child from the front row, “Can I open my eyes yet?”

XXX

(Not really) THE END

Next chapter: Epilogue (Romeo and Juliet ConYuu version) and intro to the next sequel (Mine X 3).