Author's Note: This is my first Kyou Kara Maou fan fic. So, I'm hoping this story will turn out okay… Wish me luck. Also, this story is just for fun and not for profit. So, don't take anything seriously.
Seasons of Beautiful Wolfram
Shibuya Yuuri was in his office, thoroughly bored. He'd been signing papers since early morning and, now, he was hoping to take a lunch break if the "high and mighty" slave driver Lord Gwendal von Voltaire would allow him only that much without frowning or adding another wrinkle to his brow. Yuuri suspected that, even if the administrator agreed, he would still feel guilty for asking in the first place.
The dark grey haired man coughed politely in his direction, a document in hand. "I think I should point out that you've just approved to have Anissina use you as a test subject for her latest invention called," then his voice trailed off momentarily while taking the paper up to the light for a better look, "Mr. Hygiene O'matic-back scrubber-zit popper-and-toe nail-clipper-kun."
Yuuri's eyes flew open wide at that, taking the paper back.
"You saved me," he said and mumbled to himself, "signed the wrong dotted line. Ugh!"
Yuuri's black eyes looked up to see a hint of concern in Gwendal's face. Not good. He was about to get another wrinkle on his brow.
"And, at the bottom, I'll make a note that says you can't be used as a test subject, either."
There was relief in Gwendal's Indigo eyes. "Thank you, Heika."
Well, now, he can't be mad at me for suggesting a lunch break, Yuuri thought mischievously. And we both get what we want. He really needed that lunch break now—even if he couldn't always make out Shin Makoku food. Maybe, today's lunch would be something he could recognize. It didn't matter. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation as well as to rid himself of writer's cramp.
A tall, brown haired soldier approached the open door and stopped suddenly. He was used to closed doors. Those could be easily knocked on. Now, he wasn't sure if he should wait to be noticed or to knock on the open door. He chose the latter. Awkwardly, the soldier looked in—wondering if it was okay to enter or not. Lord von Voltaire was known for being moody on a good day. The soldier prayed that he wasn't in a bad mood right now. Because, if he was, it was only going to get worse pretty quickly.
"Yes?" Gwendal grumped.
"I was ordered to convey a message, sir."
"And?" Gwendal said back, eyeing him.
"Um…the message is that Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld will be here in a few minutes and wants to see you."
"Oh," his brother said with very little interest. Wolfram had taken some soldiers to patrol the northern border. It was too soon for them to be back. They'd only just started after breakfast today.
The soldier looked down at the floor with a blank face.
Gwendal blinked back at that. It suddenly dawned on him that the man standing before him was one of Wolfram's most trusted men. And, even though his blond haired "Little Lord Brat" of a brother could be a major problem with his fiery temper and sudden outbursts, he was wise enough to have this particular soldier by his side as much as possible. Wolfram was good with a sword and enjoyed the company of others with similar talents, for he did not suffer fools gladly. And, when sending messages, the blond was more likely to send a new recruit who could be easily spared.
Wearily, the double black folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them. "What? He's back already? Why me?" His muffled comments seemed to shock the soldier a little. The man's eyes narrowed with something that looked like thinly disguised anger. Then, he suddenly stood at attention, awaiting orders or further questions. Gwendal saw that, too. It didn't sit well with him.
"Fine. You're dismissed," Gwendal said and watched the tall soldier exit the room. Gwendal took a few more casual steps toward the door and saw the solder walk down the hallway, then pick up the pace—almost at a run-- and head towards the front doors of the castle. Not good. The administrator walked cautiously toward the window and saw Wolfram on his horse just outside. It was hard to see his brother's expression from just seeing the top of a blond head, but there was something…off. There were only five soldiers with him and one was offering Wolfram a hand down? Why?
"I'm sorry, Heika?" Gwendal said distractedly, still looking down.
"I just asked if we can break for lunch," Yuuri whined from behind the desk. "I'm really looking forward to…well…whatever we're having…which is fine with me."
Somewhere inside his head, Yuuri thought he could hear a voice say "wimp."
Gwendal gave a "humph" as a response, walked over to Yuuri's desk and began to review the next document. Oh, joy…the town mayor wants permission to knock down someone's home in order to construct a fountain in the shape of our new maou—with water coming out of his… Oh, they've included a diagram. Revolting…
Gwendal looked over at Yuuri again. Maybe, it would be better to let the young king go after all. "Fine," he said again and saw Yuuri's face shoot up, bright and happy. He got up quickly and gave a polite little wave on his way to the door. Great! I can get out of here for awhile and escape. He grinned at the prospect. But the look on his face faded quickly when he turned back with a spring in his step and found his blond fiancé standing in his way.
Wolfram, wearing his typical blue uniform with a sword at his side, had a pained look in his emerald eyes. It wasn't the same pain that Yuuri saw when he first proposed to him—which was literally a slap in the face. The proposal was an accident even if the slap wasn't. The customs in this world were weird. But, now, Yuuri could see the beautiful blond—yes, even Yuuri reluctantly acknowledged him as unbelievably attractive—staring back at him, seemingly hurt about something.
The maou mentally braced himself for what was to happen next. It was usually some sort of bellowing on Wolfram's part followed by the words "cheater" or "wimp." He prayed fireballs wouldn't be involved. But he really had no idea why Wolfram would feel that way today. It wasn't like he'd been chatting with the maids or flirting with any dignitaries. He'd spent all morning after their breakfast together with Gwendal signing papers. So, Yuuri was confused. Still, he reasoned to himself, it might be faster to just let him throw his tantrum and be over with it.
"Ummm…Wolfram?" Yuuri started cautiously. "You look…" Hurt. "You look…upset. Is there something…?"
Wolfram entered the room, ignoring the young maou and went to the front of the desk. The blond had two soldiers with him—the tall, brunette messenger from before and another, short red haired soldier that Gwendal easily recognized as another personal favorite of his brother's.
"You can go now," Wolfram said to them quietly. It didn't even sound like an order. Wolfram's orders always had a mix of showmanship in them because his men were elite soldiers and, not surprisingly, he never stopped reminding them of who and what they were. In return, they were all a little in awe of him.
The pair looked at each other awkwardly and left with a little reluctance, shuffling out of the room.
Yuuri watched them, confused.
Wolfram leaned on the desk with his left hand. The right hand, seemingly, was on his hip. But Yuuri noticed that his breathing was labored. Emerald eyes opened and closed with each breath.
"We were ambushed when we were out on patrols to the north of here. Remember the place where the road forks?" Gwendal, eyes wide now, gave a curt nod as he walked around toward the window—looking out at the road that led from the north gate—as though that would tell him something more.
Wolfram swallowed hard. "They were skilled, not just your run of the mill bandits. And they were human." He leaned on the desk a little more and shook his head, blinking hard.
"Oi, Wolfram?" Yuuri said with concern. He placed a hand on Wolfram's arm. To his surprise, the blond pulled his arm back, not wanting to be touched.
"Let me say this," he breathed with his emerald eyes cutting into black ones dangerously. He turned back to his brother. "Gwendal, I think they were assassins."
"In broad daylight? It's either bold or incredibly stupid," the older man said brusquely.
"It is bold," Wolfram acknowledged, "if they were looking for someone in particular. Someone they knew would be there." He pressed his hand against his ribs again.
"Who?" Yuuri asked.
The blond gave a pained look to his brother. Wolfram wanted Yuuri out of the room, but his dolt of a brother wasn't getting the clue.
"I said, 'who,' Wolfram," Yuuri complained back with more force this time. They were going to have one of their classic bickering matches. The Japanese teen could just tell. Everyone in the castle thought it was "bickering like an old married couple," but Yuuri thought himself too young for marriage. And, like it or not, he wasn't going to marry anyone he didn't love. To make things worse, and impossible for him, Wolfram was a guy. There was no way in hell he'd marry a guy. He was not attracted to men. At least, he didn't think so.
"Who do you think they were after?" Gwendal said with a sharp edge, but he knew what was coming.
"Me." Wolfram looked to his brother because it was easier. He could just picture his fiancé's face at the mention of that and didn't want to see it for himself. Deep down, he never wanted Yuuri to stare at him with such a face. "And as much as I hate to admit it…" He didn't want to continue on. A few uneasy seconds passed. He forced air into his lungs instead.
"Well?" his brother said cautiously.
"I…I need your help," he said dryly. He gritted his teeth and uttered a small growl. Weak. I can't look at Yuuri. This is just too weak.
"For what?" Gwendal prodded.
"For this." Wolfram pulled off his blue coat, letting it drop the floor. He had a growing, bright red stain spreading down his white shirt—which had been ripped open. It oozed blood. The hole in the shirt was just under his ribs and the bleeding, which was getting worse, needed the pressure of Wolfram's hand to slow the red flow. To Yuuri's dismay, it was dripping on the floor. And it was at that point that the demon king noticed that Wolfram had left a blood trial on the floor from the time he entered.
"Wolfram!" Yuuri said, watching his best friend losing all color in his face.
"I need a healer…I think…But I had to give you my report first. It's my duty."
Gwendal gave him another nod, but a sharp one, and took off down the hall for help. His footsteps echoed away.
Wolfram stood on shaking legs, watching with searing pain as his brother left. He knew, now, that there was no way of getting rid of his reluctant fiancé. He will stay by my side out of pity and guilt. I hate that.
"Wolfram?" Yuuri spoke his name again, but the other was leaning hard on the desk now with his head down. The blond hated being alone with him. The teenage king should have been, somehow, tricked into leaving before being allowed to see him in this decrepit state. And, above all else, Wolfram hated to be seen as feeble.
"That's why you pulled your arm back," Yuuri said, upset now. "You were trying to hide your injury!"
"It almost worked," the soldier said as his legs finally gave way beneath him.
Wolfram was kneeling on the floor now, his head swimming. He wobbled slightly and sat down. Instantly, he felt a warm body behind him, supporting him from collapsing. Arms circled his shoulders.
"Lie down, Wolf."
"No. I-I can't… Don't make me."
"If you say so. Or, are you just being…stubborn again?" Yuuri's voice broke at the end of the sentence.
The blond clinched his fists. "I don't want your pity," he breathed, wishing he'd had the strength to look behind him to glare.
Yuuri held back sobs. "But…Wolfram! You were slashed…."
"Slashed?" Wolfram said back, annoyed. He tried his very best to sit up straight, but the pain washed over him, and he found himself leaning into Yuuri. "Look again, wimp. It's a hole, not a slash mark."
"Then what?" Black eyes narrowed.
"It's still in me," the blond said with a shaky breath, "I've been shot with an arrow."
"Wolfram, no." The double black bent to the side to get a better look, but shifted his best friend when he did it, causing a pained groan.
"Hurts." He gritted the word out between clinched teeth. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach, too.
"Sorry," Yuuri breathed. He buried his face in Wolfram's shoulder and tightened his arms around him. "Tell me what happened again."
The blond scrunched his eyes tightly and hoped his nausea would pass quickly. "Yuuri, they were waiting to ambush us. But, it made no sense. The eight of them had swords and only one had a bow and arrows. While the others were fighting—a distraction I think—I realized that the one with the arrows was aiming only for me. I could have roasted him with a fireball…but I hesitated."
The pain was bad again and Wolfram threw back his head. Yuuri looked over, but all he could do was watch.
Wolfram's hand wasn't enough to stop the blood from flowing, and it was now going down his hip onto the floor in a thin, warm rill. "Gwendal's going to be mad I'm messing up his floor—not that I care."
"Don't try to distract me," Yuuri said, holding onto his best friend. "The selfish jerk that I know wouldn't care about that." He leaned in again and said softly, "Wolfram, why did you hesitate? You knew he was going to fire an arrow at you."
"Because of you, you wimp."
"I don't understand."
The blond felt his mind going blank and fought to stay sharp. "You hate for anyone to die. You want total peace through negotiation." He took a pained breath. Yuuri tightened his grip on the shoulders. "If I'd done as my instincts told me, I'd be fine right now. But, I know how you are. I know what you believe. And, even though it may cost me dearly, I'll do anything I can for you because…" Hesitantly, Wolfram placed a hand on top of Yuuri's left hand—tempted to throw it off, but also tempted to try to lace fingers with him. He struggled with his heart for a moment, but gave up in the end. "You are a special person to me." He lowered his hand, shoulders sagged.
Yuuri blinked back tears. "Wolfram…I…uh…" He didn't know what to say. Even now, the demon king prided himself on not lying to the blond. They were friends—best friends—from his viewpoint. But, beyond that, he couldn't promise anything—and wouldn't.
"It's okay," Wolfram said sincerely. "At least, I made it back this time." He shifted his hand to his bloody side. There was a faint, green glow. "I can't think with this pain."
"But, what do you mean by 'this time'?" Yuuri wiped his eyes on his black sleeve.
"Idiot," the blond admonished quietly, "I'm a soldier. And I'll never change who and what I am. So, what do you think will happen to me one day?"
The double black didn't have an answer for that.
"At least, I can be with you one last time."
Yuuri didn't like where this conversation was going. He frowned. "Stop it," he said quietly. "We're getting you help. If it weren't for the arrow, I'd do it myself. But, I'm no healer."
"This arrow in me…feels like…it's made with…some sort of magic… When I tried to pull it out, the shaft broke with a blue shock. It burned my hand." The blond lifted his right, blood stained, hand to show burns across the thumb, fingers, and palm.
This can't be…no!
"Don't sound so…" So miserable. You should be celebrating, he thought acidly. "If I die, you're free to marry, Yuuri," the blond said, closing his eyes and leaning back more than he intended.
"Shut up and hang in there," Yuuri said angrily.
"You're right. I could still make it… However…if I don't….next time," Wolfram said sadly, "choose a woman." His words sounded bitter now. It wrenched his heart to say it, but it was the truth. He tried to laugh, but he hurt too much to try, causing, instead, a gasp of pain.
"A woman is what you want anyway, right?" Wolfram said, emerald eyes looking far away. Yuuri, kneeling a bit now, looked over the blond's shoulders to see that the spark was leaving Wolfram's eyes. It terrified him.
The soldier gave a shaky breath. "Yes, choose a woman…someone you desire. I can't be a woman for you, Yuuri. I can't give you children, either." He felt warm tears on his cheeks now. "All I can give you is…" My heart and that's not enough for you. Another thin tear streaked down Wolfram's cheek. He cursed himself. Only Yuuri could make him cry. It was weak.
"I'm cold" he said suddenly. Maybe, crying made him cold.
For the double black, panic was setting in. But I have to be calm right now! "Cold? Hey, you're not just saying that so that I'll keep hugging you. Right, Wolf?" Yuri tried to joke. It was lame, but he suddenly realized that "shut up" was a bad idea. He had to keep Wolfram talking until help arrived.
"I'm tired, too." His hand fell away from his bleeding side.
Yuuri rested his chin on Wolfram's shoulder, turning and trying to read his face if he could. "Then, I guess…that means I'll find you in my bed again tonight."
This time, he got a faint chuckle. "Someday, I probably won't be."
Footsteps thundered down the hall. Yuuri closed his eyes in relief as he heard the sounds of people rushing their way.
"They're coming, Wolf. You'll be fine," Yuuri promised.
"Wimp." The blond took a shallow breath and slumped back when the colors in the room faded into darkness. The last thing he felt was release. The comforting arms around him were gone.
He was alone again. As always.
That's just like you, Yuuri. You let go of me far too easily. I hope you're happy now.