Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou
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"I told you it was all an accident!" Yuuri Shibuya, the 27th Maou of Shin Makoku, was not always the best with words. "I don't want to be your stupid fiancé!"
Indeed, he would often say things he hadn't meant to say. Sometimes it was just a stumble through what he had meant. Other times, he would phrase his questions in the most inappropriate manner, not having meant to, and not realizing until after.
The King was usually a polite, bashful demon who thought that words should be soft and never hard. His mother had taught him that he should only speak with soft words, in case he had to eat them tomorrow.
He was not known for yelling, though he did have an alter-ego that had a tendency to get a little vocal. But, in general, his tone was always forgiving and his words always kind, even when he stumbled over them.
It was only around his fiancé that he had an odd inability to hold his tongue. Around the temperamental blonde he called a best friend, thoughts would form into words before he realized he'd thought or even said them.
And then later, after his fiancé had thoroughly burned him to a crisp, he would wonder: Why did I say that?
This was one such instance.
"Well, fine!" Wolfram von Bielefeld, former prince and current fiancé of the Maou, was not always the best when it came to handling his anger. "Why don't we just call it off right now, Wimp!"
Indeed, he had never been known as a gentle prince and was, on occasion, known to chase people away with his fire, both literally and figuratively. He was spoiled from a young age by those who did not want to be on the receiving end of his sharp blade and sharper tongue. And it was his very nature, as a wielder of fire, that had given further birth to the anger he could not control.
Usually, the prince's outbursts were tolerable. Something would upset him and he would immediately storm off, no longer forcing anyone to deal with his fits. Other times, he would cross his arms and act childishly, knowing that obstinate behavior often granted him what he wanted.
He was known for his rash decisions – decisions he usually based off of the emotions that raged so strongly within him. It was not that he was unintelligent or misinformed. It was, when he tried to contemplate it, that he felt things so fully that he simply had to act on them.
And it was around his fiancé that he felt the strongest. Wolfram had loved few times in his life, but when he had, he had loved deep and been hurt deeper. So when he had found himself falling slowly in love with the King of Shin Makoku, he had done everything possible to ignore it.
And when that failed, he had decided that the only solution was to make sure Yuuri never hurt him. He stopped the boy from even approaching anyone he could cheat on him with. He ended any wimpy ideas about leaving. He continuously brought up their pending marriage.
The depths of his emotions and the level of strength through which he felt them, usually ended with all of these 'precautions' happening by means of yelling or burning.
For instance, like now.
Yuuri yelped as the fire licked just above his head and he sent a pleading look towards his fiancé. "Wolfram, please stop!" He was alarmed by instinct, but something told him that the blonde would never really hurt him. Physically at least.
The prince let out an outraged cry, sounding more like a roar as he pulled his fire back. The ball of heat danced in the palm of his hand and lit his eyes like dying embers. "You stupid, stupid wimp!"
Yuuri backed up, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Come on, Wolf, you know I didn't mean it!"
The fire died out suddenly, leaving the blonde looking at him in something akin to revelation. Yuuri, hesitant to trust the suddenly danger-free boy, glanced around uncertainly. He slowly lowered his arms as Wolfram stared at him, green eyes unreadable. "Wolf?"
"You didn't mean it." The words were an echo, both hollow and hopeful at the same time. Guilt drove a small wedge into Yuuri's heart, realizing that empty voice was partially his fault. Wolfram was always scary after an argument, either too furious to even have a discussion with or so despairing it was heart-wrenching.
"I didn't mean it," Yuuri repeated, trying to put all his sincerity into those words. Wolfram blinked, as if whatever thought he had been momentarily paused on started to play again. He crossed his arms and Yuuri was immediately on the defensive, though keeping his reaction as placid as possible.
"That's it, Wimp." The statement would have caused Yuuri to flinch, spelling out his soon-to-be doom, if it wasn't for the tone it was said in. A revelation. "Sometimes we say things we don't mean."
The boy-king, unsure where this was going, merely nodded. Wolfram accepted this as his agreement and gave a nod back, as if strengthening his decision. "Alright, then. Just tell me you didn't mean it and we'll let it go."
Yuuri blinked this time, disbelief in his eyes. Let it go? That was not the usual Bielefeld motto, that's for sure. He voiced his uncertainty and was met with the intense, challenging eyes of his fiancé.
"If you meant it-" he ignored the sudden frantic gestures and denials by Yuuri "-when you said you didn't mean your words, than I have no reason to doubt you. Just as you have no reason to doubt me when I say I didn't mean it."
Yuuri let his arms fall to his sides, still very uncertain about his fiancé's words. He wasn't used to the relatively docile form of truce coming from the blond. He nodded slowly. "Alright," he replied, though the hesitancy to trust this new development was obvious. "I didn't mean what I said so…I take it back."
Wolfram gave a sharp nod, always a soldier. "I take my words back as well."
That seemed to end the fight. Luckily – and perhaps one of the only reasons it actually worked – no one was there to witness. Rumors spread that a fight had started and was easily broken up, but the conjectures as to why ranged far and wide.
But Yuuri was happy. The rest of the day passed smoothly, and Wolfram seemed placated for the time being.
It was several days before their next fight and, throughout those peaceful days, Yuuri couldn't help but wonder if Wolfram had really let it go. And, of course, a fight eventually escalated because of his doubts.
"If you can't trust me, how are you ever going to marry me?" Wolfram shouted out, the pain clear in his green eyes. It was not certain if he had fully let their previous argument go, and Yuuri never did find out.
"I don't want to marry you, Wolfram!"
The pain in those emerald eyes stopped him once again and he immediately knew he had let the words leave his mouth without thinking. Those large eyes, so feminine in their appearance and yet so fierce in their depths, were always what got him.
Wolfram wore his emotions not on a sleeve but in his eyes. And whenever Yuuri would speak his words without pausing to weigh them first, those eyes would be his downfall. Something akin to betrayal would fill them; the pain swallowing them up like skin swallows a dagger, stabbed directly into the heart.
And that was the only analogy Yuuri had for it, though, by looking at those eyes, he couldn't imagine even a dagger hurting that much.
He was interrupted as a pale, slim hand was raised. He immediately flinched, fearing the fire that could be pulled forth from that palm, but his fiancé did not summon it. Instead, he closed his eyes and let his breathing even out.
"It's alright," he began calmly and slowly opened his eyes. The emotion was still there; the pain dimmed but ever present. "Sometimes we say things we don't mean. I didn't mean to…force my…emotions on you."
He struggled through the words, obviously reluctant to once more deny that Yuuri did not, in fact, want to be wed to him. But he managed to vocalize them, and for that there was a small amount of despairing pride welling in his chest.
Yuuri felt it too, and it gave him strength. "And I didn't mean what I said."
Wolfram nodded again, this time a little quickly, making his head bobble up and down. Yuuri moved over to him, feeling more confident that his best friend had truly let it go this time.
And he didn't doubt the boy's words again.
Nearly a month passed before their next big fight; though it was vicious and had fireballs flying before Yuuri even had a chance to loose his tongue. But it happened, as it always did when Wolfram failed to reign in his anger.
"Why don't you just say it, Wimp!" Wolfram screamed, fire making the air hot and stuffy, only furthering Yuuri's own growing agitation. "Tell me you want that harlot instead of me!"
"Maybe I do!" Yuuri yelled back, fists clenching. Somewhere in him, the Maou was stirring at the increased levels of anger. But he held him back. "At least she won't yell at me for doing nothing!"
"Nothing is all you ever do!" Wolfram howled and the stream of fire got dangerously close, despite Yuuri's quick dodge. "I do everything you want, Yuuri, yet all you do nothing in return but flirt and cheat on me!"
"I've never cheated on you!" the king rebuked, trying to defend what pride and honor he had. "You and I aren't even together!"
This was an unwise choice of words and Yuuri knew it after he spoke, of course. The fire grew hotter, but never singed him. Wolfram would never hurt him.
"What does she have that I don't?" the boy rebuked and Yuuri could see the pain in his eyes once more, there among the rage, being swallowed by it. "Breasts? A womb to bare your children?"
"That isn't it!" Yuuri screamed and, later, he would wonder if those words were true. He claimed his first step into a relationship with Wolfram would not happen because the blonde was a boy. Wouldn't that mean the prince's words had some truth to them?
"Then what?" Ferocity, a type of anger that was overwhelmed with the frustration of not ever getting what he wanted, what he thought he deserved, fueled Wolfram now. And there was little he believed could stop him.
"She isn't you!"
Except, perhaps, that. The fire died quicker than under any water Yuuri could have summoned to kill it. His body was shaking, perhaps from the extreme usage of maryoku, or the anger still boiling in his veins. Yuuri immediately opened his mouth to apologize, but closed it, unsure of what to say.
He hadn't meant it.
Black eyes looked up to Wolfram, waiting for him to say it. Hoping he would say it so he could make this all better. Make it all go away.
It took the blonde longer this time, eyes wavering even as they slid shut and he reigned in every ounce of anger that made his body quiver, that made his eyes sting and the back of this throat ache. His breathing was rough and it took more than just a few calming breathes to stop his heaving.
Finally, green eyes slide open. They were a little more steeled against anything Yuuri might say, but they were also fighting to accept his words. Accept that he hadn't meant them.
"Sometimes, we say things we don't mean." The words were familiar by now, a mantra the two of them would dance to, to keep themselves from faltering.
Yuuri nodded quickly. "I didn't mean it Wolf, I swear." The words were sincere, a pleading for a second chance. And, of course, Wolfram would grant it. He nodded and that was the end of it. Their fight was over and they could go back to being friends.
It took everything he had in him, but the prince was able to forget those words for the next several months. They had skirmishes, clashes where the two very nearly came to exchanging words they would both regret, but then they remembered their previous fight and respectively tucked away their angry tongues.
Yuuri had small bruises all over the muscle from biting down on it, a way to keep himself silent when the rest of him wanted to rebuke without warning.
Wolfram had taken to meditating, an activity Conrad had once attempted to teach him. It had never taken because he wasn't ever able to calm down enough just to begin. But breathing exercises and visualization were now key parts in his attempts to control his anger.
It wasn't until after the King's birthday celebration, a large ball and festivities held in his honor, that their silent methods of coping finally broke down.
"All you had to do was ask for one dance, you wimp!" Wolfram's accusation stung Yuuri because, this time, he knew he was right. At the party, on the night of his birthday, he had danced with any woman who asked for his hand but when the last courtier stopped, conspicuously close to Wolfram, and asked if he was going to dance with his fiancé that night…
He had turned to the blonde, mouth flapping like a fish, and panicked. 'No,' he had said, turning back to her with a charming smile that usually got him out of most of the situations he managed to back himself into while in Shin Makoku. 'Wolfram doesn't want to dance.'
"Yet, like the idiot you are, you embarrassed me. Again!" Wolfram was near tears this time, something Yuuri had never seen. Guilt was eating at him, even as the blonde boy's anger began to grow.
Wolfram was boiling, pain fueling the rage he had been holding back for so long. Frustrated, his eyes searched frantically before landing on the brush lying atop the vanity. Grabbing it, he chucked it at Yuuri, followed by the small hand-held mirror.
The king ducked both, the later shattering against the wall behind him. "I can't take your rejection anymore, Yuuri!"
"I'm sorry, Wolfram." The ruler commented numbly, knowing he needed to say more than just that. His words froze in his throat, however, when the blonde slid the formal coat off of his white military shirt. Black eyes blinked in surprise as it was chucked carelessly onto the bed and Wolfram moved over to their wardrobe.
It wasn't until he started pulling out more than one outfit that Yuuri started to feel the edges of panic overtake his confusion. "What are you doing?" His voice sounded small, terrified, but he couldn't help it.
"I'm leaving." Wolfram's words were solid, said without hesitation. Yuuri panicked, taking a hasty step forward, then faltering.
"Wait…Wolfram, you can't just leave…" The blonde boy wasn't listening, pulling on his usual military jacket and folding the other two outfits into a small bag he had pulled from out as well. Neither seemed to realize that there was only two day's worth of clothes in that dreaded bag.
Yuuri held out a hand when the blonde slung the pack on his back and turned towards him, intent to leave through the door behind him. "Please, Wolfram, I don't want you to go." The words seem to halt his fiancé for a moment, but the blonde shook his head.
The king panicked; his mind searching for anyway he could make the blonde stay. Anything that would stop him from pushing past him and entering the hall. Eyes lit up even as their bedroom door was opened and Wolfram stepped through it.
"Sometimes we don't always mean what we say." The prince froze, back to the King, unwilling to move. Yuuri swallowed, letting the hope that he had said the right thing fuel his courage. "And I didn't say the right thing. I should have asked you to dance."
Wolfram's head tilted slightly, resisting the urge to turn back and look at Yuuri. He lost the battle; looking uncertainly over his shoulder at the boy he called his true love. Black eyes were once more sincere.
"Please tell me you didn't mean it, too." Those words were whispered, still terrified. Wolfram couldn't bring himself to break those words or the heart behind him. He dropped his bag, knowing full well he would never have left anyways.
"I didn't mean it."
He was swept up in a hug, strengthening arms wrapping around him and pressing his fair features into a ceremonial black shirt. "Thank you, Wolfram." Though the words were whispered in his ear and the embrace was something that he had dreamed of doing with Yuuri before, more so as lovers than they were now, he found himself unable to relax in it.
Something seemed vaguely wrong to him, as if he should catch something that wasn't there. But his heart was aching as sharply as his eyes, so he dismissed the feeling, and stiffly wrapped his arms around his fiancé.
It was nearly a year before their next argument. Yuuri had been on his best behavior since the birthday celebration, even asking Wolfram to dance at one of the balls they held some months later. The prince had long ago cast aside that strange inclination that there was something wrong with this situation.
He ignored the fact that every disagreement they had was quickly waved aside or swept under a bulging rug by words of 'it isn't true' or 'that's not what I meant'. He ignored the fact that Yuuri was now often the one to recite their mantra and did so often to keep an argument from forming.
Wolfram let it all be swept away with those words, the voice that foretold danger better than the Bad Omen birds, the stiff pain in his heart that grew firmer with each dismissed quarrel. He let it all be waved away because Yuuri was happiest in the weeks when they didn't argue.
And he was happiest when Yuuri was happy.
It wasn't until Yuuri returned from Earth one night, flustered and a little surprised to have traveled back, that those inclinations became too much. He obviously hadn't meant to do so. Wolfram had quickly forced everyone who had come to greet the boy-king at the fountain to turn around, supplying his fiancé's strangely nude form with a towel.
The raven-haired boy took the offered fabric with a smile, not noticing Wolfram's eyes, which were staring at his neck and not his face.
The prince did not say anything, simply nodded and let Yuuri cover himself up. In fact, he didn't say anything as the king climbed into the carriage, surprised when Wolfram climbed onto a horse to ride outside. Yuuri began to worry, nervously, that something was up. He fidgeted throughout dinner, where his fiancé remained by his side, calmly eating his supper.
It wasn't until they got back to their room, that Wolfram turned on him, arms crossed, face set, that he knew he was definitely in trouble. "Who is she?"
Yuuri, immediately caught off guard, stuttered. "Wh-What?"
Wolfram's eyes were blazing fires, but his breathing, for the most part, remained calm, a result of nearly a year of meditation and exercises. "The whore that left that mark on your neck. Who is she?"
The boy immediately clasped a hand to his throat, knowing exactly what the prince was talking about and why he had been so angry that day. "Wolfram, I-"
Fire lit the room, swirling in a tightly controlled ball in the blonde's palm. "I will not ask again, Yuuri! Who is she?"
"Just a classmate!" The boy replied quickly, his voice gaining volume to match Wolfram's. "It was nothing, I swear-"
"How could you?" The fire blazed higher, lighting the entire room. The candles, most in scones on the walls, flickered, growing taller and stronger with the power Wolfram was fluctuating. "I trusted you, Yuuri! I thought you'd gotten over this!"
The words, angry and accusing, brought out a certain anger in the King that he had not been expecting. Something about the prince's words got under his skin and he growled slightly, the Maou stirring once more. "Gotten over what, Wolfram? Women?"
"Yes, women." The word was spat like venom. The fire danced, flickering as Wolfram's arms shook in rage. Yuuri could feel the heat climbing and the oxygen burning as the prince kept two pillars of flames growing from the base of his hands, but never out of his control.
"Well, guess what, Wolfram," Yuuri shouted back, annoyed that everything he did was seen and judged by the boy before him, a boy he had continuously reminded he was not involved with. "I like women! I'm not ever going to 'get over them.'"
"God damn you, Yuuri," the prince swore, turning his eyes away as they began to tear. He shook his head, looking back, knowing the anger in his eyes would overwhelm whatever pain he was feeling. The fury lying just beneath his skin was almost out of his control for the first time in a year. "I'm your fiancé! I should mean more to you than any woman you'll ever meet!"
The boy-king immediately rebuked, his tongue getting away from him once more. "You're not my fiancé! I've told you, Wolfram, the engagement was an accident!"
The fires grew, licking the tall ceilings. Luckily, the stone did nothing more than blacken, but the air quickly being burned away was starting to become a true concern for the king, only fraying the edges of his tolerance further.
"If you don't want to be married to me, than break off the damn engagement!" Wolfram screamed. "It's obviously means nothing to you!"
Yuuri growled out, instincts taking over as he summoned his water, keeping his body cool in the heated room and reached out, using the tendrils of water to push the windows open, letting in the air the two would desperately need soon. The room was beginning to crackle under the opposing energies.
"Damn it, Wolfram, calm down and listen to me!"
"No!" The scream was almost ear-shattering and Wolfram slung his hand to the side, wall of fire meeting water next to the windows and releasing a cache of steam that hissed in the night air. "I'm done listening to you, Yuuri! I'm done putting up with your flirting and cheating. I'm done thinking you'll ever love me!"
"I could never love you!"
The words were out of his mouth before he realized it.
The room was immediately cast back into the dark blue light of night. Yuuri's eyes were wide, suddenly bright in the dark room, all traces of fire gone. Wolfram was shaking so badly he couldn't move, his body trembling visibly even from the kings distance.
The water tendrils disappeared, splashing to the floor and soaking into the rugs and furniture that covered the stone.
A hand was tightly clasped over the King's mouth, as if he had tried to catch the words and failed. Emerald green eyes were staring only at him and the pain in them was palpable.
It was like every other time…only much, much worse.
But like every other time, they had been able to get past it. He took a tentative step forward. "I…I didn't mean it, Wolfram."
And then it was gone. The blonde blinked at him, a form of revelation in his eyes he hadn't seen in almost two years. Something dropped into his stomach, foretelling dread and doom, but he pushed it to the side, praying that he had gotten through to Wolfram.
That they could go back to normal.
Normal, as Wolfram as realizing, was to push everything aside like it didn't matter. Normal was now when his uncontrollable anger would push Yuuri to use his uncontrollable words, and they would say it didn't matter. Oh well.
And it had become an excuse to act on their anger and say what they wanted. Because, in the end, like normal, it wouldn't matter. Because they didn't mean it.
Looking at Yuuri now, Wolfram had his revelation.
"Sometimes, we say things we don't mean," he announced, drawing himself up amid the destruction of the room. Yuuri's eyes lit slightly, the hope in them speaking of his relief. His hope that they would do as they always did and push it behind them.
Wolfram met those eyes, stared into the black depths and accepted that everything the two of them had ever said, they had meant. "This isn't one of those times."
Yuuri's eyes changed slowly – widening in realization, but the understanding came too late. Wolfram had already drawn his sword from its sheath and thrown it at his King's feet. He let what was left of his anger take over, forfeiting rationality. His fiancé, not understanding, started at the loud clang of metal on stone. He looked to the sword, then back to its owner.
Wolfram turned and walked out of his bedroom. And Yuuri knew, this time, he meant it.
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The refusal to change one's inability to exist with another in harmony
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