Disclaimer: Don't own KKM, or anything to do with it, as much as I weep on the inside. –weeps-

Warnings: Extreme OOC, and typos, and things born from being writing all this in one day and being too tired to think properly while writing it. XD; But…I do enjoy the few jokes I sprinkle. Oh, lame angst too. I only put it in because…well, read something that made me go: "OH GNOES ANGST!" …and my imminent doom for pissing off a friend of mine. ; Oh, and this one's a LONG one… Chapter 5: Of Hearts and Spaghetti

It was a very uncomfortable feeling, Wolfram decided seconds after the arm plunged into flesh.

He stared numbly down at limb half buried into his own abdomen. The pain wouldn't blossom until later, he supposed, or perhaps by now his nerves were going through enough shock that they'd shut down. He felt blood bubble up in the back of his mouth, watched in fascination as the sanguine liquid soaked the black material of the jacket. The fingers protruding from his lower back flexed, and the blonde felt the motion in his guts. Intestines and muscles shifted with the movement, brushed against the material going through him, and it almost felt like butterflies clawing at his insides. He smiled, wondering briefly where he had that feeling before, but the action came out more as a wince and drops of scarlet poured from his mouth like an endless waterfall.

With a rough jerk, the arm dislodged and came free, leaving the blonde to try and cover the exposing hole through his middle with a hand, to keep the things that were supposed to be inside where they were meant to be. It felt strangely empty without the arm through him, suddenly, like things had been much better during the act of being killed. His body spasmed from the sudden loss, it jerked violently like a puppet on flimsy strings and that was when it hit. Like a tidal wave, the pain overcame him, setting fire to every end, every fiber of his being and he felt like screaming, but his throat was clenched so tight at the moment, not even a gasp could escape. It felt as though he'd been shoved into a scalding hot bath, his skin boiling and peeling away.

No, Wolf realized. Not his skin. This wasn't an exterior pain, he dully acknowledged that. It felt more like his insides were being boiled instead, and that seemed to hurt a lot more than anything did.

Yet the proud angel would not fall.

Even in this state of grave injury, with the smell of his own blood filling his nostrils, the metallic taste stuck in his mouth. The once pristine and eminent wings that burst from his back in a magnificent show of soft down and elegant white feathers stood behind him as a mockery. They remained full, untainted, clear of any blemish, contrasting with the body they remained attached to. Wolfram was sure he looked like hell. Half his face was bruised, an eye swollen over, his blonde hair dull and matted with crusting blood, even more still gushing from his mouth. One arm was twisted a way it shouldn't be, unnaturally, the other cradling his spilling insides like a baby. His legs were scraped - skin and muscles torn apart, exposing glistening bone - and bruised where there still was skin, feeling much like jelly. It was amazing he could still stand, shaking as badly as a newborn colt, and staring up at his killer.

And there the Demon King stood. Yuuri, Wolfram corrected himself without a wonder as to why he'd think that. The black haired boy looked neither sadistic nor dishonest. In fact, he looked no different than Wolfram could ever recall him looking. He was sincere, innocent, pure, clean. Well, like his soul - his essence - was still clean, despite the red that clung to his arm - the arm that had just second before been stuck through his body. For a moment, Wolfram didn't think he should be there. Yuuri was still Yuuri, and it was just unusual to see it there...

"Don't demons always do this? That's what you say, anyway," Yuuri spoke softly, with a trace of great remorse in his voice. Like it pained him to admit that Wolfram hated his kind. Claimed to hate. Did he hate?

"You're...the king. You're supposed...to be different," came the reply from cracked pale lips, surprising the blonde with his firm he was, his strongly he sounded as though he truly believed his words.

"Don't say that, Wolfram." Yuuri smiled gently, his eyes still sad, still so pure. Like he didn't want to shove his arm through the blonde.

Wolfram, oddly, found himself bristling at the thought. If he had been given the choice, the prince decided that he would have rather had the king kill him in the same way. He supposed it was because being killed by anyone lesser than his greatest enemy would be an insult to his pride, not because he just liked the thought of being so close to the boy with dark eyes.

"I'll say what I want."

A little bit of happiness came back to the boy who looked so sorry, and Wolfram crumbled. His weakened knees gave away, his body crumpling to the floor, legs gathering beneath him like a bunch of blood-soaked rags. Yuuri did not help him up, did not seem to notice the pain he put him through. It didn't matter, though, because Yuuri's eyes were still so riveted to him, to only him and it made the pain his body was going through seem so tolerable.

"The garden is pretty."

Strangely, the blonde head bobbed up and down without even Wolfram thinking about it. Even though when the blonde glanced around him, peered through the glinting feathers of the wings that tried to block out the world around him, he saw no garden. Fire, forgotten shadows, and the cloying smell of inevitable death. That was what Wolfram saw. A bleak landscape, born of ashes and destruction, and Yuuri had the audacity to call it beautiful. When the blonde closed emerald eyes and breathed in deep, he smelt soot, he smelt his own blood, and he smelt...

The faint traces of meadows now trampled by soldiers, the underlying hint of spring and rejoice. Mud and blood churned together, orchids blooming in their midst. Orchids and perfume.

It reminded him, painfully and slowly, of the home he'd given up. Given up...

That was supposed to ring something, and the image of Yuuri flickered for a moment. Just a moment. And in that moment, Yuuri's expression had changed. Everything had changed. Wolfram still knelt, wings spread out around him and beautiful with his body still beaten and ugly and broken... But no longer was there a gaping hole in his middle but in his chest. Wolfram's own arm was the one covered in blood, pieced of broken chest plate sticking to his blue jacket, and Yuuri's eyes were so wide and boyish and surprised as they reached out to take what Wolfram hadn't noticed was in his hand. The demon took it gently, carefully, as though he were picking up glass and turned what the blonde could only describe as a pulsating mass of red over and over. Around them stood the gardens of home, with its fountains gurgling clear water, fresh grass and new flowers blooming. The sky was the bluest blue, all traces of clouds gone. Wolfram had never seen the day so clear like this, clear like Yuuri's eyes.

"It's for me?"

The prince nodded once, feeling cold air lick at his empty chest. It felt as though a burden had been lifted off his shoulders, as though he'd take off in flight without having to move the great appendages on his back, as though he were light enough to blow away at the softest puff of breath. He'd never felt this peaceful, this comfortable, and briefly, Wolfram wondered if he'd died earlier, and this was just some after life. If so, Wolfram didn't think he minded.

"I can't keep it." That snapped the angel back into reality - or whatever this happened to be - and tilted his head quizzically. Yuuri gazed down at him, cupping the pumping mass between both his hands, looking at the blonde with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen. "I don't know what to do with it. I can't keep it. Please, take it back!"

Wolfram hardened as much as his light body would, lips curving downward into a frown, then a pout. Yuuri was rewarded with a slow shake of his head, and the black-haired boy seemed to just get more distressed, once more begging the blonde to take back what he'd just given. It wasn't until he became fed up with the raven-haired boy and reached out to make sure Yuuri cupped the object firmly that it finally dawned on the blonde what he'd just given away.

A heart. His heart, complete with pumping blood and dangling arteries. It was disgusting, he was sure, and he'd no idea why he'd give such a hideous thing to his newly betrothed. A part of him resented himself for giving it away like this, and an even stronger part of him was angry with Yuuri for not accepting. "Have it." His voice was firm and gravelly, as though he hadn't used it in a thousand years. "When I give you something, you keep it, or you'll insult me. Only wimps give back presents."

This seemed to speak to Yuuri, who then shut up and retracted his hands, clutching the pulsating mass to his chest, almost cuddling it. For a moment, he looked as though he were happy, as though he were pleased and cuddling this new gift. But soon the face fell, became... flustered, became uncomfortable. Slowly, almost as though Yuuri himself were realizing just how truly sick this all was, he placed the heart in his pocket and slowly rose to his feet, tossing the broken doll at his feet a sad smile.

"This wouldn't have worked out. I'll tell Conrad now what we talked about... I'm glad you'll stand alone."

And even though the heart was in Yuuri's pocket, Wolfram felt it shattered properly in his breast as the Demon King turned on a heel and walked out of his line of vision. The blonde managed only a soft whimper at being left so alone, and...


Wolfram groaned with agony at the harsh sound suddenly filling his ears, mind groggy and remnants of his anguished dream being drowned in the foreign noise. He'd never heard a thing like it before, and vaguely wondered who was responsible so he could throttle them quickly. It wasn't until he blinked awake and sat up slowly, that things seemed to clear up. The day, certain events, the new home...

What Wolfram had woken to was a room completely unlike his old. He had a new life now, and it was evident in everything around him. The room was as big as his old, yes, but it wasn't a proper room. It was the den of this small cramped house. He had fallen asleep on a couch, the material a soft tan color. Around him were lined cabinets stocked with all sorts of knick-knacks - from porcelain pigs painted with scenes and flowers that any normal pig would be ashamed to have to dolls with faces so white they looked as though the people they had been modeled after had been drained of all their blood. They had long ringlets of blonde hair - nothing like his beautiful mother, and Wolfram found himself smiling a little despite himself - under large frilled bonnets decorated in flowers. Animals of all sorts - dragons as well, he slowly realized with a sort of awe - decked out in funny clothes next to plates depicting legends and books with foreign writing behind glass and wood.

He seemed to be in a spot of the den that was lower than the rest of the floor but only by a step. In front of him was a low table - did they eat at that table? How could they pull off such a feat with such a low table? - and covering the half of it was a sort of crinkled paper, folded over several times. He almost thought it was a map, but he realized it was covered in those foreign words, and figured it was a sort of book. He'd inspect it later. On top of this paper was a strange device of a rectangle shape, and numbers on it that blinked. From it, the blonde realized had came the noise that had woken him. But it was quiet now, and left it alone. In front of the table was a sort of cabinet, this time housing something that looked like a big black box, mostly taken up by a black mirror. It was incredibly strange, especially since it distorted his image that stared back at him and seemed to gray the colors a bit. What kind of mirror did the people in this world use anyway? This was not at all the reality he knew... Yet, using this foreign mirror, he could see behind him, he could see what was on the raised part of the room. He could see a higher table - normal height and he sighed with relief at that - and around it were scattered plain wooden chairs. That would be the dining area that was surrounded by more cabinets full of silverware, plates, and all sorts of culinary along with more fantasy knick-knacks.

And this place was home. The blonde sighed heavily, slowly lowering his head into his hands, propping his elbows on his knees. This was just great. He was stuck on a foreign world, with a fiancé who didn't want him and yet clearly stated he did through ancient customs, with a half-brother he hardly liked, a stoic to-be brother-in-law who seemed to like to glare at him, and his other in-laws were--


The noise startled the blonde so badly he screamed and fell off the couch, landing with a heavy thud on the floor. The mechanical sound kept going even as Wolfram brought himself up and growled threateningly at the object, which continued to deny him by carrying on. The blonde raised an agitated hand to swat at it in a clear bad mood, knowing that should get it to shut up. Sadly, it had no effect and it carried on. With a frustrated huff brought on by a sudden mood worsened by an on-coming headache, he drew himself to his feet and was about to make the object regret that it ever woke Wolfram Von Bielefelt from his dreams and moping when a voice squealed out from behind him.

"Wolf-chan! Awake, already? Oh, it must've been Yuu-chan's clock! We thought you might appreciate an alarm - don't want to sleep through dinner, right? - so we set it up for you and everything! Here, let me show you how to turn it off..." And in a quick flurry of purple skirts and white apron, there stood a figure between Wolfram and his foe, the alarm clock. When it turned around and beamed up at him, the blonde recalled whom the brunette who stood before him was.

His mother-in-law.

"Mother..." He whispered softly, unsure about the name he was suddenly calling the woman, looking slightly hesitant. In Jennifer's eyes, the boy appeared to be everything a new daughter-in-law should be - he was pretty, most definitely, and awkward. He didn't know it, but he hadn't quite carried himself with as much haughtiness as he thought. He'd skittered around things, appeared slightly edgy, and when he learned whom the people were, looked at them with a slight light like he wanted to please them. Jennifer had known instinctively that this blonde was the one that Shouri promised his little brother to - after all, if she'd been given a choice, she'd probably have chosen him too. Of course, she didn't know his temper either, but that didn't matter because a mother always knew what was best.

But that was beside the point. Wolfram looked scared - albeit, putting up a tough front - and Jennifer knew she would have to fit into a part of this boy's life that had suddenly been torn away from him. Since he wasn't an animal and she couldn't get skintimate with him by biting his ear, she had to settle for a smile. "Yes, yes! My, Yuu-chan does have quite the luck getting a pretty fiancé! But, dinner's not ready just yet so..." The woman stepped back a bit, suddenly looking the blushing blonde over before squealing happily again and grabbing Wolf's hands. "Come, help me cook! We can bond and--"

Wolfram hardly had a chance to protest as the woman, still blinking unsurely and blushing deeply dragged him off. The woman was spontaneous, he'd admit, and came off strong. However, he couldn't say comfortably that neither did he, and allowed that part of her personality to slide. Besides, he'd have to get to know her as he'd be living with her, surely to take over her role within time, and he'd best get used to it. Shuffling after the glowing woman into the kitchen, listening to her drone on about how to cook dishes such as 'curry' and 'gyouza' and which ones were Yuuri's favorites (which he seemed to take particular interest in, Miko noticed and Wolfram pretended not to). It took perhaps an hour until Wolfram realized that when she smiled over at him and called him "Wolf-chan", he smiled back a little and replied a little easier, "Yes, Mother."

Life wouldn't be so bad after all. If only Yuuri could learn to live with him, he JUST might get used to this.

Or end up killing Yuuri.

The ride home had been relatively uneventful - well, if whining and complaining and trying to wheedle your way out of a situation where you'd just accidentally engaged yourself to someone of your same gender could be called uneventful. Yuuri had been ye close to getting to his knees before the two demons and simply groveling to be let off the hook by the time they'd all piled into the car, Wolfram vehemently ignoring Yuuri's protests or shouting at him that it had been completely his fault. His fault? He was panicked! He was scared! He was about to DIE! Hadn't Wolfram EVER struck out in a panic before? The blonde was crazy - this whole DAY was crazy! Yuuri was sure this had to be a dream, until Wolfram pinched him when he asked him to, and well... The bruise the pinch left certainly wouldn't let Yuuri forget this.

Conrad had chuckled to the point Wolfram decided if the brunette made one more noise of amusement, he'd strangle his brother - and Wolfram and settled into his role relatively comfortably. Not to say he didn't act petulant and glare at his new husband to be, biting off insults only to rub into the black-haired boy's face how fruitless his protests would be especially after slapping him. Yuuri did not give up arguing, throwing little fits of utter distress when he thought of the explaining he had to do to his parents and the reactions of said parents in-between. They arrived in this jumble of disarray and frayed nerves, Conrad being the only pillar of sanity between the two quarreling boys as he popped open the doors and stepped out.

"We CAN'T do this, you know! It just -- boys! Wolfram, you don't want to get married to a boy, right? Right?"

Wolfram harumphed in reply, shoving open the car door on his side roughly and nearly scraping it against the brick wall. Conrad gave a slight cry of dismay, looking faintly concerned, yet remained composed enough to not check on the damage done to the car until Wolfram had stepped out and slammed the door back into place. Yuuri was not oblivious to Conrad's obvious care of the car, and took it upon himself to briefly change the subject.

"Wolfram! This car is borrowed - be more careful!" Yuuri allowed his eyes to trail after the kindest soldier he'd ever met as he checked over the damage, looking worried. "Is it okay?"

Conrad traced his fingers slowly over the door, before sighing in relief and looking over at the anxious boy and giving him a reassuring smile. "Julia's fine."

Yuuri, dull as a rock, blinked at the statement. "That's nice, I guess, but is the car fine?"

Conrad chuckled richly, shaking his head a bit before proudly explaining. "The car's name is Julia. I named it that."

Yuuri blinked a bit in surprise, before smiling awkwardly. "Well, thanks for the ride then, Conrad and...er...Julia. Hey, does that mean we all took a ride in Julia?"

There came a very loud cough from behind him, and Yuuri whirled around to face a strangely red-faced Wolfram, glaring at Yuuri, then turning it to Conrad, then to the car. Yuuri noticed the slight flicker of green as Wolfram lifted his eyes to once more look over to Conrad, and noticed the blonde looked slightly sympathetic for a moment, before he turned on his heel and stormed towards the closest house - luckily (or perhaps, unluckily), it happened to be Yuuri's. When the boy looked back towards Conrad, he couldn't help but feel there was supposed to be some sort of significance in the naming of the car, but he let it slide. "I...I think we should go. This is...this is...Conrad, I can't believe have to do this! I mean, my mother exploded when she learned I was to be engaged - but now she has to learn I'm engaged to a boy!"

Conrad chuckled softly as the man moved with a slow sort of grace to be beside the king, and the two slowly made their way to the spot Wolfram was currently standing, with his arms over his chest. "I'm sure she'd understand."

"And that's exactly what I'm afraid of!"

True to word, Jennifer had taken to the idea that her son was engaged to the son of an angel whole-heartedly. Yuuri wasn't sure if he should've been happy that his mother was so flexible, or have prayed to whatever was out there that the aliens return his mother's brain immediately. Miko "Jennifer" Shibuya had swept her golden-haired son-in-law up immediately, talking to him in that swift sort of way that made you dizzy and completely miss the point of the conversation, and even his father made the pass that Yuuri was able to "catch them." No one seemed to notice the black-haired teen seemed a little less than happy that his family was taking to the arrogant blonde, who seemed to look down his nose at his family.

True, he hadn't said a word to them and was already calling them formally by their titles, but Yuuri didn't notice that Wolfram still seemed to be skittish around his parents. Like he didn't want to be near them, as though their blood was too dirty for him. It made Yuuri resentful towards his new 'bride' - which was hardly much of a bride, thankyouverymuch - and he'd taken chance to escape everyone when they all seemed so distracted over cooing over Wolfram. Yuuri had marched right up the stairs, muttering under his breath about how Wolfram was such a selfish brat, and that his parents should know the blonde before deciding he was such hot stuff, and that he didn't like boys! Instinct had him turning when he came to his room, tearing open the door. It was plain, with posters of baseball figures and their stats at the bottom, his desk was cluttered with schoolwork and his little trash bin overflowing with crumpled paper, his dresser clean and.. And beneath his bed was where he went for in a split second, lifting the blue quilt and thrusting a hand blindly underneath to seek out his mitt and baseball.

When he found the items, he took them and went straight for the backyard. He passed his mother, briefly caught the words 'alarm clock' and 'dinner', before he found himself in the den. Well, he had to go through it to get to the sliding door, then the veranda, and if his mother weren't hanging laundry, he'd practice his pitching and catching until the sun went down. Just as he was marching past the portion with the TV and couch, a glint of yellow caught his eye. Slowing his pace, feet no longer stomping on the ground, he turned his face a bit to investigate.


He should've known.

A frown touched his lips as he came to a halt, face turning into a bitter glare. The blonde lay on the couch, stretched out and looking more comfortable than Yuuri thought he had the right to be one hand tossed across his forehead the other over his stomach. The thought to do something rotten to give him a rude awakening crossed his mind for a moment, before he shook it free. Instead, he decided he'd just turn and go right on past until a groan had him stopping before he even took another step.

Yuuri wasn't sure why, but the sound made his heart race, his palms sweat... and a twang to go off in his chest. When he turned back to look at Wolfram, he noticed the blonde's face - which he had thought so peaceful and angelic - seemed to have a touch of a frown. That perhaps, Wolfram wasn't quite as happy with his dreams as Yuuri had first thought. Another groan came from those pink lips, and Yuuri was sure that the boy sounded distraught. Forgetting he had been angry with the blonde earlier and looking faintly concerned in case the boy was having a nightmare, Yuuri slowly made his way to get a closer look at Wolfram.

He regretted it immediately. The black-haired teen had made it to the couch side before his breath was stolen. Yuuri knew he thought the boy looked every bit angelic and beautiful in the coffee shop, but in slumber, he was beyond that. The gentle rise and fall of his chest making blonde strands brush against the pale column of his neck, lips parted into a delicate 'o', blonde lashes brushing slightly flushed cheeks under a carefully placed, curled hand... Yuuri didn't realize he was blushing nor that he was staring in a smitten sort of way...until he had been smitten in another sort of way.

One moment he was admiring the cutest person sleeping in the cutest way, until the blonde shifted his hips a bit and lashed out with a foot. It connected harshly with his stomach, making him 'oomph' in pain and wheeze, before falling over in a crash. The blonde only wriggled his nose in a distinctly satisfied way, then slurred, "Ohnrii wimps..."

At that point, Yuuri was sure he did not want to marry Wolfram.

"He hurts me even in his sleep! GEEZ!"

A short, soft laugh from beside him made him jump - then wince from the pain that lanced from the kick. In a flash, Conrad was beside him, a hand thrust towards him to help the teen to his feet, smile still plastered onto his face. "Your Majesty."

"Yuuri." The boy corrected, before taking the hand and helping himself. "Ow, ow, ow... Conrad, did you see that? He lashed out at me - and he's asleep! Does he hate me that much, Conrad? I can't live like that!"

Conrad shook his head a bit, smile stuck on his face as he stepped back to allow the venting boy some room. At length, he finally made a reply to the question when it seemed that the boy actually meant it. "No, Yo - Yuuri. Wolfram just tends to be a restless sleeper - especially in times of stress."

"Stress! STRESS? If he wants stress, he should be in my shoes! Finding out you're totally engaged to a boy--"

"Isn't he in your shoes?"

Yuuri remained silent after that, thinking over the words. The black-haired teen seemed stubborn to admit that it was true, pout curling his boyish lips and eyes lowering in the telltale signal that he knew he was defeated. Conrad stood, quiet and calm, tame and non-pressing. The brunette waited for the younger male to perhaps admit to something, to say something, or to even merely brush him off and carry on with some other business. Truthfully, Conrad was eager to find out what reaction the king would have to his words. Insolent, in a way, he knew. But so far, the boy-king seemed to have so many strange personality quirks he knew that the boy would find no barbs in his words. Yet that was the way he was used to having his words taken, or to be eaten or shoved away. How would this strange new character act?

"...I guess he is just as stressed as I am, isn't he?"

"I'm sure all newly weds are as stressed as you two."

Yuuri immediately made a face at those words, before waving his arms around and blushing hard. "D-don't say things like that! We're not wedded yet!"

Conrad forced himself to tone down his smile, sneaking away the lack of protest to even being fiancé's. "As you wish, Your Majesty."


There remained a few quiet seconds, almost tense. Or it could've been Conrad's mind, his way of thinking and his mind still set back on the way people acted back home - where neutral grounds or even the tents that tended to the wounded were filled with such electricity due to hostilities. He'd just come home from a war, after all. He was unable to shake his experiences from his shoulders, unable to turn off the mode that heightened his senses. Made him see hatred where there probably was none. The boy was relaxed and languid - confused in body posture and face - and yet... And yet he still couldn't help but think that there was just a bit of resentment towards them, towards...


"Your Majesty?"

"Can you come outside with me for a bit? Play some catch with me."


"... I'll explain it to you. Just...please. I need someone to talk to." Yuuri turned his face up to plead the man with his eyes, giving him a look he'd often give Shouri to get the older Shibuya to loan him those extra few yen for that new bat. It always worked - well, on Shouri anyway - and Yuuri figured he might as well try. Besides, he really did want to ask Conrad some questions, and he felt awkward throwing a ball at a wall and talking to someone at the same time. He might as well involve Conrad in a battery of sorts, and get things off his chest.

Conrad nodded his consent, and Yuuri looked relieved. Moments later, the two had stepped outside into the lengthening day, breathing in crisp air of evening and smog. It felt foreign in Conrad's lungs - as though it didn't belong there. Julia would've laughed at the idea. But Julia didn't exist, did she?

Yuuri explained the fundamentals of playing catch, and Conrad was quick to catch onto the game. It wasn't long until the two had set up a steady rhythm of tossing the white sphere back and forth between each other, hand deftly catching and curling with the motion of the ball, shoulders and arms rolling fluidly with each pitch. It probably was until they hardly needed to concentrate to keep up the steady flow until they began idle conversation, the sky already turning a rosy color.

"Does he really hate us that much?"

Conrad mulled over the words, catching the ball tossed his way and staring into the face across him. It looked saddened a bit, as though the thought of 'he' - Wolfram, he assumed - hating 'us' was of some importance. "Well," Conrad began slowly as his arm whirred back to keep up the battery, "I think if you give him time, this world will grow on him."

Yuuri didn't reply until he caught the ball and rolled it a bit in his palm. "No, not this world. I meant...us. You know. My people. Humans. My family. Does he hate us?"

This caused the soldier to raise his brows slightly. The man couldn't honestly say anything, as he had no idea as to how Wolfram truly felt towards demons and humans. It was true he shot his mouth off about them, but as for true feelings... "In all honesty," he paused to catch the ball Yuuri suddenly released in his direction, torso twisting slightly when the aiming proved to be off by just a bit. "In all honesty, I can't say. But...he was raised in the midst of our courts, during war. He has known nothing but pain, taught nothing but the ideals of others, and not allowed to experience life for himself." A slight smile was given to the king, who kept his eyes glued to his shoes suddenly.

"...I see."

"He is still young. He might learn."

Yuuri sucked in his lip and chewed on it a bit. Wolfram probably did hate everything they stood for - he hated the fact that he was being used as a political pawn to join two courts by marrying someone he cared little for. He was forced into another world full of everything he disliked, and told that for the rest of his life, he'd be here. And suddenly, Yuuri realized that he'd been unfair towards the prince. If he thought he had it stressed, Wolfram's situation was probably a million times worse. If Yuuri's only problem was being engaged to a guy, to Wolfram, it must seem like he was engaged to a million of them.

"Your Majesty...I believe you will change that in him, though."

It sounded much like a prophecy, and it should've frightened him. When the boy looked up from his shoes to stare into the smiling, friendly face of the battle scarred brunette; he could feel the confidence in the half-angel. "You will, won't you? If you can change Wolfram's mind, I'm sure making peace would be a snap for you."

"Peace..." Yuuri repeated the word slowly, as though he'd never heard it before. He seemed to think secret thoughts, his eyes clouding over for once, indecision rearing its ugly head in such open eyes. And then, slowly, he smiled. A bright, beaming smile rivaling the sun and Conrad wondered, suddenly, when had it become so dark on his side of the world.

"I like that idea. Okay, I'll do it. I'll help Wolfram realize we're not so bad and I'll bring peace to our countries."

A ghostly, calm smile was returned to the king. "Indeed. But I'm willing to bet that dinner comes first."

And when they did go in for dinner, Yuuri made another horrifying discovery. Not only did it seem his mother and his bride-to-be had bonded - exceedingly well at that - but also his bride to be could make octopus tentacles that actually writhed out of spaghetti.

A/N: Do NOT ask about the Julia and the car thing. I just thought it was so damn funny, that Conrad would name his car Julia, and the many sexual innuendoes that cam come from it. Perverted things easily amuse me, yes, thank you. And…you'll probably find out more about her and the role I've decided for her later on. Yes, yes. Maybe more angst, maybe more comedy, I dunno. We'll see. 'Til next time! (Which due to the painful doom to be extracted on me, may be a while! TT)