Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maoh! or any of its characters. I do not make money from these writings.
Warnings: Themes contained in this writing are not suitable for minors. If you are under 18 years of age, do not proceed.
Summary: Story takes place thirty years after Yuuri and Wolfram first met in Shin Makoku. After fifteen years of marriage, they have yet to find their "happy ever after." And for them to achieve that, they must find a way out of the state of ambivalence they keep falling into.
Author's Note: In this work our main characters are beset by the coexistence of conflicting emotions: love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, and trust and fear. For those of you familiar with my first KKM fanfic, I borrowed a few ideas. Hence some similarities: Yuuri and Wolfram's past relationship, a certain pair of magical rings, to name a few.
The chapters are cut short (quite abruptly even, so my apologies) for quicker update. Chapter 1 is only an introduction but I still wish you all a pleasant reading!
Wolfram von Bielefeld – 112 yrs. old
Yuuri Shibuya – 21 yrs. old (Earth years)
November 15, 4112
Before someone robs me of memory again, I've decided to put down in writing the little I'm certain to be true and the many I'd been told to be the past.
My name is Wolfram von Bielefeld, a hundred and twelve-year-old fire wielder and a full demon-blooded Mazoku from a country called Shin Makoku. Before I became the second most significant figure in Shin Makoku, I was known as the third son of Cecilie von Spitzweg, the twenty-sixth Maoh—the term for said country's ruler—and youngest brother of Gwendal von Voltaire and Conrart Weller. With regards to the different surnames among us siblings, that's because mother married three times; a story neither necessary to write nor to remember. What I do feel compelled to put in black and white is this life with my beloved husband of fifteen years, but whom I had been reacquainted with the day I awoke from a deep unconscious state a year ago in my world of origin.
Upon opening my eyes—and after what seemed like an hour of melodrama from my mother and unnecessary finger-pointing by Gwendal, who then realized I was devoid of memory—the first person who spoke to me calmly, explained the situation, and introduced himself was Yuuri Shibuya, the current King or Maoh of Shin Makoku.
Apparently, I am Yuuri's king consort.
For unknown reasons, there were things I was able to comprehend effortlessly, as if my lost memory still existed but could not function on its own without prodding; hence I listened attentively, without questions, and accepted Yuuri's words and familiar events as my real past.
As mentioned earlier, Yuuri was the designated twenty-seventh Maoh of Shin Makoku even though he came from another world called Earth. According to him, Earth is filled with humans; and his mother was one. Yuuri informed me—in a cheerful voice of one looking back at an amusing past—that our engagement was accidental and that we owed it all to his human mother whom I judged unjustly without having met. This ended in him hitting my left cheek with his palm; and in Shin Makoku, a slap is a proposal of marriage. At that time, Yuuri was fifteen years of age, while I was eighty-two—though we appeared around the same age because a full demon blood aged slower than a half demon, half human like Yuuri.
I asked Gwendal why Yuuri was chosen to be the Maoh. Gwendal explained that Shinou—the original Maoh of Shin Makoku—chose Yuuri for his seemingly pure soul and immense powers. I purposely added "seemingly" because I questioned the very existence of such "pure" soul. Moreover, if within Yuuri was a side capable of great destruction —a dauntless self which clamored not only for justice but for vengeance—then how pure, harmless, or innocent could his soul be? Nevertheless, whatever truth there is, the present Yuuri—who has now become one entity with his fearless side—is perfect in my opinion.
According to Yuuri, shortly after our accidental engagement, he adopted a ten-year-old human child named Greta. He told me that my fondness for Greta was almost immediate and that I looked after her as any future parent would. We were quite a happy family of three, he said. However, that moment in our lives didn't last long. When Greta turned eighteen, the people of Zoratia—an impoverished country—whisked her away and turned her into their rightful princess. While we're on the topic of Greta, let me note down that she turned forty this year. She, her husband, and their children visited many times since I awoke from a head injury. More than once I found her regarding me oddly, as if we shared some secret in the not-so-distant past. Perhaps I would learn the reason someday… when I've spoken to her in private, away from Yuuri's watchful eyes.
Going back to the beginning of our relationship decades ago….
Since the time Yuuri proposed unintentionally, he was averse to the idea of being engaged to another man but chose not do anything about it out of respect for me. I, on the other hand, forced myself on him until he became dependent on my presence. Unfortunately this respect and dependence he felt were not enough to keep him from going astray. After ten years of engagement in Shin Makoku—on Earth, where time moved much slower, only two years had passed—he had a sexual relationship with some female professor from his university.
When I discovered of Yuuri's unfaithfulness, I immediately dissolved our engagement and requested to travel the world for an indefinite period. The agreement for this leave was renewable annually; thus I had to return to Covenant Castle before the end of December of every year for the next few years.
Despite my incurable seasickness, I set out on a voyage with my private army. We had barely seen a diminutive portion of the world when our ship was wrecked, hurled by the ferocious wind into the rocky coast of a country called Lemaroy. It was then that I met the King of Lemaroy, Corentin Mael Fitzroy, or Mael, as Yuuri referred to him in short.
Yuuri said Mael was an enigmatic man who used passions of the flesh to consume my better judgment; and used charms to fill my head with illusions of some idyllic life which made me turn my back on my country. Yuuri said that I was bewitched because within a month of first acquaintance, Mael asked me to be his prince consort—not king consort because I wasn't a citizen of Lemaroy—and I accepted. Mael and I were engaged for almost four years. Alas, after heartaches and other misfortunes—none of which I was informed in detail—Mael and I mutually parted ways.
Within half a year after departing from Lemaroy, Yuuri and I got married.
Yuuri did not expound than what I've just written. He ended by stating matter-of-factly that my relationship with Mael was trouble. I asked Yuuri to tell me more because for once—since he started recounting the story of my life—nothing felt familiar, as if everything about this segment of my life was fabricated, as if this Mael never existed. Yuuri refused firmly and reasoned that that particular past was meant to be left behind. I did not insist. I could not help but be detached to something I could not remember experiencing. In fact, Yuuri's betrayal during our first engagement barely evoked any emotion. Perhaps the lack of memory gave me a perspective similar to that of a newborn child: I could only feel and react to the moment as it presented itself.
As mentioned earlier, today I wish to focus on my beloved Yuuri….
Mother once commented that Yuuri used to have short hair and big round eyes. When I brought this up to Yuuri, he provided me with old photos. He laughed wholeheartedly when I said the younger him looked too innocent, almost naïve… wimpy even. I could hardly believe the boy at the photo was the same person as the man beside me.
You see, the Yuuri I met twelve months ago was a man with commanding presence—tall and slender, black hair that reached his collarbone, and beautiful black almond-shaped eyes—and appeared in control of everything.
Yuuri said—in a bitter undertone—that I used to love him more when he was a "wimp." Of course I was not convinced. It was then that I confessed that I couldn't possibly be more enamored with anyone but the man before me now: strong and resolute, with a tender, passionate side reserved solely for me. I told him that he certainly had the most exotic eyes in this world; on Earth, I had seen many of the same color but none compared to the enticing eyes he possessed. His low voice never failed to calm the nerves; or perhaps it was the way he spoke, the confidence exuded, that nothing—even the direst situation—seemed hopeless. And whenever we made love—which was quite often, if not each chance we get to be alone—it was as if he aimed to please every inch of my body more than his own.
While we're on the subject of intimacy, I must admit that at first I was utterly embarrassed with my actions; that despite Yuuri being almost a stranger all over again, it took less than a month for me to be intimate with him. Yuuri comforted me by saying that the body could not forget what the mind did. Maybe he's right. Our bodies fit perfectly after all.
As for the spiritual, emotional aspect in our marriage, not a single flaw existed. Since I awoke, we were never apart for more than a couple of hours. In fact, I can almost sense him on his way here, with our two-year-old human son, straight from the baths of one of our two homes, Covenant Castle—our other home is on Earth and is actually the house of Yuuri's parents.
Now that I've mentioned our son, let me put on record that he was named after Yuuri; hence the name Yuuritter. Yuuri openly disliked his name but according to him, before Yuuritter was born, I insisted on passing on the name to our first son. He conceded to please me, but added a "tter" at the end. He claimed that "ritter" meant "knight" in Germany, a country on Earth. Hence the name "Yuuritter."
I must note that Yuuritter was conceived from Yuuri's sperm, not mine. With the help of advanced science on Earth and a willing surrogate mother, Yuuritter was created. Being the loving husband that he was, Yuuri kept reiterating that I played a crucial part in Yuuritter's conception. He said I was responsible for inducing the ejaculation of the millions of potential Yuuritter. Whenever Yuuri went on and on about such, I would end up laughing at endless repetitive explanations. Perhaps he feared that I'd be suspicious—I heard I used to be very possessive—and felt he had to emphasize that he did not betray me a second time by copulating with the surrogate mother, which he certainly did not do for Yuuritter to be conceived.
A week after I awoke, Yuuritter uttered his first word. I could hardly believe my ears when it was "Wolf," as Yuuri called me, which he first spoke. Yuuri was the only one who could have taught Yuuritter my name while I was asleep. It was the first indication that Yuuri desired for us to be a real family. Now, I must confess that Yuuri's efforts at family bonding could get a bit too much, almost desperate, sometimes. When I told him to relax and stop forcing Yuuritter to climb all over me every minute, he became upset. He then told me that for years I had longed for a son and should show more gratitude for what we have. I had to assure him incessantly that I adored Yuuritter.
Then, I began to wonder when in my stolen past did I crave for a son. Yuuri refused to explain, he merely stated it was from long ago.
Before I forget, let me write down what they—Yuuri and Conrart—said happened the day I was assaulted and suffered multiple injuries which ended in memory loss. Yuuri and I were at a hot springs in Cimaron—the new name of two countries united a decade ago: Small Cimaron and Big Cimaron—ruled by the beautiful but lecherous King Saralegui. Yuuri left me alone in the warm water. By the time he returned, I was already unconscious, left fingers broken, and head bashed against the rocks. They said my wedding ring was never stolen; therefore could not have been attempted theft. Whoever did it was never found and motive unknown.
Conrart said I was out for three months and that Yuuri used his healing powers on me every single day. I awoke in our bed in the Maoh's chamber. When they realized I knew nothing, not even my name, Yuuri transported me to Earth. The best doctors were consulted but none of them could cure my amnesia, which was what they all claimed I suffered from. Once, Gisela—our military physician in Shin Makoku—tried her healing magic on me. It resulted in a series of migraine. After that, Yuuri forbade anyone, healers and physicians alike, to get near. He said amnesia was temporary and it was unnecessary to force recovery prematurely.
Since the assault, Yuuri had assigned guards to protect me around-the-clock. In fact, there are four outside this studio at the moment. Incidentally, I'm at the studio where—I'd been told—I used to paint to pass time whenever Yuuri was away on Earth.
Today I excused myself from our daily family bath. In a couple of hours there will be a conference among representatives and rulers from various nations. Because of this, I requested some private time before I focus my attention to memorizing the guests' names and faces. I wanted to start a daily record in case I find myself at a loss again. A great deal has yet to be written. If I could, I'd put down every little detail about this life with Yuuri. I never want to forget these special moments—
Wolfram looked up from his journal when he heard the door open. He cast a glance over his shoulder and left the writing desk instantly at the sight of the approaching figures: a tall, slender man in a black tailored suit who wore a slight frown; and a chubby two-year-old in his arms who beamed at Wolfram.
Halfway the ample studio, Wolfram met the tall man who was his husband, Yuuri, and the toddler in his arms who was their son, Yuuritter.
"Did you have fun without me?" Wolfram asked.
"Woof! Ooof!" the child called out, wiggling stubby fingers to reach the sparkling ruby brooch on top of the navy blue fabric drawing closer. "Gimme, imme, spawky, Woof Popa!"
"It's Papa Wolf, Yuuritter," Yuuri whispered low in the toddler's ear. He then handed Yuuritter over to Wolfram. The frown disappeared for a moment, replaced by a one-sided smile as he watched his beautiful husband take their son gently in his arms and touch the round face with his lips.
"Mmm… my baby smells delicious!" Wolfram said, planting noisy kisses on an ear, down to the short neck. "Yummy, yummy, mmm!"
A gurgling laughter escaped the toddler's lips as he finally tore off the large red stone from the navy blue suit.
While Wolfram affixed the brooch back on his shoulder, he watched his husband from the corner of his eye. Yuuri settled himself comfortably on the large sofa—a daybed he purchased for Wolfram's use in case of an onset of migraine—beside an easel. The dark brows wrinkled in thought once again.
"What's the matter, darling?"
Yuuri gave a dismissive shrug. "Nothing that should concern my gorgeous better half," he replied, patting the space beside him.
Wolfram sat down with the toddler on his lap, stroking and pulling back the stretched out short arms in the direction of the white cloth which covered the easel. He then leaned over and kissed Yuuri on the lips.
"Your gorgeous better half missed you so," Wolfram said softly.
A black eyebrow shot up. "Oh? And whose idea was it to skip out on our family bath?" Yuuri reminded lightly.
"I see," Wolfram said. "Is that the reason for your disapproval?"
"You know I just realized the position of that desk has to be changed. At the moment, anybody can sneak up behind you," Yuuri remarked out of the blue. He then called out loudly, "Pascal! Mathis!"
The door swung open at once. Two guards stood in attention. "Your Majesty," they said in unison.
"Kindly turn around His Majesty's desk," Yuuri said. "Have it face the door instead."
While the guards carried out the light task, Wolfram studied his overprotective spouse's profile. "So tell me what's bothering you so early in the day. It can't simply be because of a desk."
"Sorry, Wolf, but you're no longer to join the conference today," Yuuri said quietly, with eyes on the guards who were almost done with their work. "Everyone showed up surprisingly."
"What? I don't understand. Surely we've enough seats," Wolfram said, releasing the wriggling restless child off his lap. With arms crossed over his chest, he watched their son wobble around the studio. "Besides, even if more arrived than anticipated, you must make room for your husband, the king consort. Or are you afraid I'll embarrass you with lack of knowledge in certain issues? How can I learn if you don't expose me to the world? I insist, I must attend the—"
"Pascal, Mathis, that is much better. Thank you," Yuuri declared abruptly, motioning for the guards to leave.
Once the door was shut, Yuuri stood up from the sofa and walked over to Yuuritter. "I've arranged for a carriage and additional security for you and our son. Have a picnic, visit town, go shopping, go wherever you desire," Yuuri said. "If you don't spend enough quality time with Yuuritter, he'll feel neglected. You know very well how that will displease him."
Him… or you? Wolfram wanted to quip but held his tongue. From the moment they entered the studio, he had already noticed that his husband was not in the best of mood. Yuuri was usually the one who initiated a kiss, struck a pleasant conversation, and certainly did not evade questions.
Fortunately for Wolfram, over the short time, he had learned the easiest way of loosening a tightlipped Yuuri.
Wolfram soundlessly sneaked up behind his husband and slid hands along the lean yet muscular torso covered in black garment. He then pressed his face and breathed against the dark hair covering the nape he knew so well.
"Yuuri," Wolfram murmured, "I want to hear you introduce me as your husband—declare to all of them that I'm your beloved."
"They're well aware of who you are, love."
"Don't you want me beside you?"
"Always," Yuuri replied, throwing a distant smile over his shoulder. "Not today though."
"Why not?" Wolfram's fingers ran along his husband's chest suggestively. Nipping lightly on an earlobe, Wolfram then whispered, "How much time do we have before the conference starts?"
Yuuri stopped the wandering hands from going south. He turned around and cupped Wolfram's face. "Tempting as it may be, I'll have to take a rain check," Yuuri said, chuckling briefly when his husband appeared confused. "That means I will take up your offer later."
Wolfram took the hands away from his face and placed them on his backside, grinding his hips against Yuuri's and pressing their lower limbs together. With a pout, Wolfram said, "I don't trust that King Saralegui. If he can openly devour you with his eyes when I'm beside you, then what more when I'm not around?"
"He's not here. He sent Berias instead." Yuuri detached himself gently from Wolfram.
"You're so… cold. I don't like it," Wolfram complained with a scowl. "Why must I not attend this important meeting? You owe me an explanation."
"It's not that important. We're merely helping less fortunate nations negotiate with those who are better-off."
"Less fortunate… Then I suppose Greta's here, too. Oh, for Shinou's sake! Why didn't anyone bother to inform me she has arrived? Incidentally, why was I not provided a list of attendees?" Wolfram said, his tone going up several notches. "Are my feelings and views that unimportant? Am I insignificant around here?"
"Don't be silly. We both know that's not true," Yuuri said chidingly as he stooped down to kiss Yuuritter. He then straightened up and added, "Greta's not here, by the way. Ah, I must go. Your ever faithful Captain Pharamond has been assigned to look after you in the meantime."
Yuuri turned around and left the studio, leaving behind his irate husband. For a long while, Wolfram controlled the heaving of his chest and curbed the urge to follow Yuuri.
Wolfram silently watched as Yuuritter discovered the old stuffed animals from the only closet in the workroom. Deeming that nothing around would bring harm to the young child, he went behind the writing desk and decided to continue where he left off:
If there is one thing I'm not pleased with, it would be that people often treat me like an invalid. Up to now I can't fathom how Yuuri decides which conferences I should and should not attend. For instance, he said today's meeting was of little importance yet he forbade my presence. On the other hand, he could be protecting me—from what exactly, I do not know. Gwendal informed me—sounding like the proud brother he was—that Yuuri used to send me to negotiate in neighboring countries alone. But that was before I lost my past. I only hope in time I earn Yuuri's confidence again. I refuse to be diminished—
A loud coughing interrupted Wolfram's thoughts. He found Yuuritter atop a sand bear Gwendal made long ago, surrounded by a cloud of powder-like particles.
"Honey, are you all right?"
Squealing in delight, Yuuritter nodded as he held on to the donkey-like ears and rode the old black and white animal.
"Diggyup! Yup! Up!" Yuuritter shouted enthusiastically before coughing uncontrollably again.
Wolfram rushed to his son and whisked him away from the dust-covered stuffed animal.
"Let's get some fresh air, shall we?"
"Ohno! Nooooo!" Yuuritter objected strongly, kicking and wriggling his way out of his father's hold. "Wannadiggyup, Woof! Noooo!"