KKM Seek 3 'Hide'
"Jeez, I don't know what the big deal is!" Yuuri patted a sobbing Gunter on the back gingerly. "Relax! It's not like I'm going to be gone forever, you know! Besides, it's Shinou – it's not like I can get out of it, either, can I?"
There was the tiniest of pauses before his Lordship von Kleist, the Maou's Advisor, wailed louder, dribbling aquiline nose pressed daintily to flawless linen. Gunter was, naturally, very attractive still, what with those crystalline tears welling up in his violet eyes and the moue of unhappiness puckering his moist pink lips to an absolute frenzy of kissability. Another set of eyes – tinted a flawless emerald embedded with shadowy veins of antique gold - widened slightly at the Maou's careless announcement and then narrowed into sharp-edged slits, observing. When the genteel caterwauling showed no sign of abatement and Yuuri continued to pet the stricken Gunter with apparent abstraction, Wolfram von Bielefeld turned huffily to his heedless fiancé and flung down his linen napkin with force, ready to shout out his utter discontent with such a devious, unnecessary plan.
(What Yuuri never seemed to understand was that Wolfram's future was always disappearing – right before his very eyes - and never when he could do anything about it.)
The blonde opened lips just a shade more perfectly formed than Gunter's to vehemently protest such unfairness— and was immediately forestalled by the wimp's sudden air of cuter-than-pie-and-kittens-combined camaraderie. Yuuri blinked at him, those luminous dark eyes shining, and smiled his hopeful, you're-my-best-pal-ever-right?™ grin.
"Humph!" Wolfram sniffed instead screaming and bit viciously into his buttered muffin. No help for it, if the wimp insisted on being cute like that. Besides, it was Shinou's call, was it not? Yuuri had no choice in the matter. And at least he, Wolfram von Bielefeld, wouldn't lower himself to shedding despicable tears over a circumstance he could nothing constructive about! The nerve of von Kleist!
"And it's only for a few days, Wolf-chan. I'll be back before you know it, so don't worry, okay? I'll be fine. No biggie."
The Maou twinkled at Wolf-chan jauntily over sausages and crumpets and then, well nigh immediately after they'd all finished with their hurried breakfast and well before Wolf could gather any reasonable arguments that would convince Yuuri they should go together this time, the young Maou was gone, vanished wetly in the courtyard fountain. The Sage planned to accompany him, of course, being the Voice of Shinou who'd peremptorily summoned the Maou back to Japan in the first place. But this 'other' dark-dyed teenager seemed to have no trouble taking a polite moment to turn back and wave and wink cheerily at an anxious Wolfram, as if he were the 'fiancé' and not that galumphing idiot Shibuya Yuuri.
Wolfram was miffed and rightfully so.
Still, this particular departure was all-around better than the first one, Yuuri's disastrous Coronation. Wolfram had been at once horrified and angry at Yuuri's uncalled for disappearance: how dare that stupid wimp leave right in the middle of the most important act of his beginning kingship?
And, far more importantly, how dared he leave without telling Wolfram when he'd be back again? One would think the Royal nincompoop didn't give a whit about leaving his brand-new fiancé hanging! Such rudeness! Intolerable!
But as one week dragged to the next (those were the days when Yuuri had no control over his comings-and-goings) and there was still no Maou in residence to get all flustered when Wolf took his now customary half of their big bed at night, the doubts that seemed so insignificant while Wolfram was first furious loomed ever larger.
Maybe Yuuri had forgotten them? Maybe he believed Shin Makoku to be only a dream – its inhabitants nothing more than shadows passing 'cross the waters of Lethe? Or perhaps Shinou had decided this was all a mistake? That Yuuri wasn't the one he needed, no matter how fore-ordained? As much as Wolfram hated to admit it, maybe Uncle Stoffel was correct: surely no mere half-human boy could rule the mighty Shin Makoku? Perhaps Yuuri was to stay in Japan, after all. Forever.
Wolfram would be free, then, released honorably from his unexpected obligation. He could go back to carving out his own future, with fire and blade and unswerving determination. After all, he hadn't asked to be engaged in the first place, as Yuuri should damned well realize! He hadn't asked for any of it – not the worry nor the responsibility nor the weird way his heart thumped when he thought of his fiancé.
The disconcerting manner in which his breath caught at the back of his throat at the sight of dark eyes and dark hair—
"Wolfram! Wolf-chan! Conrad! Gwendal – Gunter! Gawd, I'm soo glad to see you guys! I thought I was going to drown for a minute there!"
Yuuri flailed damp arms and legs and looked adorably cute, knee-deep as he was in the fountain with the Sage right behind him, grinning like a loon. It had been only a week this time – far better, really, than the last occasion, but still entirely too long for 'someone' to wait patiently.
"Wimp! What took you so long?!" Wolfram demanded and hauled Yuuri out of the water bodily, ripping off his own jacket to wipe down his sopping fiancé. The boy was all sharp angles and unexpected soft spots and Wolf found that he didn't mind the forced contact one iota. Yuuri obviously did, though. It must've tickled or something. Maybe the Maou's wet uniform was chafing?
"S-stop it, Wolfram! You don't have to do that!"
They struggled, Wolfram grimly determined, Yuuri increasingly desperate to get out of the water, until finally Conrad stepped in with a bland smile and some words of excuse and the Maou was escorted away firmly to the baths and then the study, a damp and complaining blonde fiancé but one pace behind them.
Wolf's initial worries had been blithely packed away when the wimp finally had the good sense to show up again after the interrupted Coronation, also appropriately damp and apologetic. Of course, when they all went for short riding tour of the countryside around Blood Pledge Castle a few days later, Yuuri immediately got into trouble, falling off his horse cliff-side and tumbling down the scree to disappear into the dense forest that lurked in the wide valley below. Wolfram's fiancé had to be rescued from the aimless lot of wandering bandits, naturally, but rescuing Yuuri was becoming the norm for his fiancé, if not an all-around nuisance.
But then, not even five days after that incident, Yuuri was actually kidnapped. For real, this time, in an outright act of guerilla warfare. Stolen away from the gardens mid-stroll by rogue Human soldiers and kept captive by the dispossessed bastards, with a genuine ransom note and more-than-vague threats to send the Maou back in pieces if certain demands were not met.
That hostage situation – just a footnote, really, in all the adventures the Maou had befall him-- had been infinitely more serious than the minor brush and resultant picnic lunch with the ragtag bandits of the forest had been. At least to Wolfram, charged with keeping the Maou safe and from harm. The righteous anger that filled Wolfram's heart at such a dastardly act was replaced all too soon by a sickly terror. What if they couldn't find him? What if he were hurt or even killed by those horrid Human bastards before they had a chance to mount a rescue?
What would Wolfram do? This was not how he imagined escaping from this pesky unwanted engagement – not at all! This was downright cruel, this game of Fate's – no one in their right mind would even consider harming Yuuri if they took but a half-a-moment to talk with him, to look at him, all bright-eyed and totally harmless…but what if something went horribly wrong and the Great Maou didn't come to Yuuri's aid?
What if Wolfram's wimp of a fiancé was already dead, his broken body discarded somewhere like so much trash?
The vision of soft black eyes closed forever was not one Wolfram could tolerate. Worry drove fear and fear, anger, and, when they finally retrieved the bumbling idiot from the al fresco picnic he was enjoying with his erstwhile captors, the Maou's 'accidental' fiancé was adamantly furious, no matter how many new 'friends and allies' Yuuri had made for Shin Makoku in the meantime.
Really, it just got worse from there.
There was that damnable boat trip, the one Wolfram still shuddered to contemplate. And the pirates and Morgif and that horrid Coliseum fight, the one that had Wolfram nearly hyperventilating between his intense anger at Yuuri's recklessness and his fear for Yuuri's safety. It had been all he could do to remain impassive and disguise his emotions with any degree of success while they escaped. It was no wonder he had ranted at Yuuri for hours and days afterward, dressing the wimpy Maou down thoroughly every time some scrap of freshly remembered anxiety set Wolfram off.
It took all Wolfram von Bielefeld's spare time, being annoyed with Yuuri. The remainder of his hours were spent watching over him, naturally, day and night, keeping Yuuri safe with every ounce of passionate determination that had flared up like wildfire in Wolfram's staunch young militant heart. And still Yuuri found new scrapes to tumble into; new ways to stretch Wolfram's nerves to their thinnest and then twang them mercilessly with a variety of quite fierce emotions.
A fellow could only conclude this new Maou of theirs was an outright menace: a flirt and an innocent and a terrible slacker, and too totally cute for his own good!
Eventually, as evidence accumulated (and oh, there was a great deal of it!), Wolfram decided his Maou and 'accidental' fiancé was a certifiable madman as well, with no thought for personal danger and entirely too much trust in everyone other than his own betrothed. What with Yuuri's wandering and somewhat lunatic habits ("Cheater!"), Wolf discovered he didn't have too many opportunities available to actually court the shy teenaged Maou, which was probably why the wimp was such a cheater. If only the oblivious boy would just pay the slightest attention, he'd realize that when Wolfram von Bielefeld gave him flowers, he meant it.
When Wolfram swore his life to Yuuri's service, it was his whole life he was bestowing – all his many years - not just his valorous sword arm or his willing sacrifice.
When Wolf tried to hug him, holding on tight and squeezing Yuuri in speechlessness, it was because he was grateful to have a chance to hang on for a little while before Yuuri inevitably went off again and found trouble.
But then, Yuuri always ran away more than he stuck around, especially when Wolf was attempting to be affectionate. The proud Mazoku nobleman lost count of the times he'd literally stopped the wimp physically from literally jumping into the nearest body of water just to escape him. He lost count of the times Yuuri had gotten mislaid, or kidnapped, or captured. He even deliberately gave up numbering aloud his recollections of daring rescues and hair-raising escapes, every one of them endangering his own life to some degree, every one solely for the sake of his brainless, adorable wimp.
Well, no. Wolfram hadn't forgotten. The fear was always with him, was it not?
Every time it seemed that Yuuri might disappear again Wolf's stomach took that sickening lurch downward. Every time Shinou took Yuuri away Wolf's poor heart felt as if it were being clenched by some giant remorseless fist, shrinking and stricken. And every single time Yuuri left despite him – or was taken – regardless of the hard hands that strove to halt the inevitable or the howling voice within Wolfram that called out so frantically, Wolf died a little.
In a twinkling, his sure and bright vision of their future together flat-lined, deleted from his personal horizon, leaving only the grey certainty of 'duty' and 'country' and more 'duty'.
It was awful. And Wolfram simply couldn't stand it; he wanted certainty; he wanted a promise more powerful than just the customary slap…but no matter how he angled for it, it didn't seem forthcoming.
"Yuuri! Watch out!!"
Oh, gods, but here was the wimp again, soaking wet and loaded down with packages wrapped in some foreign shiny material. Wolfram – who just happened to loitering in the courtyard on his way back from practice – caught the Maou as he stumbled under the weight of Jennifer-san's holiday presents and jerked him out the water as fast as possible, not wanting to risk an accidental return.
He snatched the towel away from Weller-kyo the moment his elder brother trotted up with it and took his time drying Yuuri off, each scrub of cotton fold over wet cloth and dripping black locks making the Maou 'real' again under Wolf's trembling fingertips, shaping the too-long absent Maou back into the 'here' and the 'now'.
Wolf breathed in, seeking that familiar scent, and stole hungry glances whenever he had the opportunity in his mission to prevent his annoying fiancé from catching a chill. His heart beat ever faster and every sound was amply magnified, till his head echoed with the welcome reverberations of Yuuri's voice.
"Y-You alright, Yuuri? No cuts, no bruises? You didn't meet any bullies this time, did you?"
"Oh, well, Wolfram—no—'M fine; you don't have to—I'm home—"
"Oh, Heikaaaa! You're here!" Gunter was squealing again; Wolf despised that carrying voice of his, always screeching at Yuuri.
"Come on, you don't have to do that, Wolf-chan – or at least not so hard! I'm fine, I'm fine!"
"Your Majesty." And Weller-kyo was demanding Yuuri's attention now; knowing Yuuri, that's the voice he'd pay attention to, even if Wolf accidently trod on his foot in a bid to keep those black eyes to himself.
"Oh, yes, I do have to, you stupid wimp!" Wolf told Yuuri firmly, as if he should actually have to say this aloud—this was his right as the fiancé, wasn't it?
"What if you make yourself sick wearing those wet clothes, hmm? Who's going to take care of you? Me, that's who! Me, and I've got better things to do than chase after some sneezing Maou—!"
"Conrad!"
Yuuri side-stepped and ducked in a fruitless effort to escape his ears being rubbed off his head and dropped all the packages on the cobblestones in his fumbling. The Sage, ignored by Wolf but heartily welcomed by the others, quietly helped himself out of the fountain and stood to one side of the pile, observing.
"Nice to see you back, Your Majesty."
Yuuri bobbed and struggled, just as he always did, fighting off Wolf's assertive attentions, but the swordsman gritted his teeth and stubbornly held on for just a minute longer than usual, aggressively toweling every inch he could safely lay hands on in public. It got worse each time, this whole 'leaving' business; he'd be damned glad when Yuuri just settled down.
"Nice to be back! How are—W-Wolfram! Jeez! Lay off! This is good enough, okay?"
"Heika! I've organized all the lessons to permit you to retain just so much more crucial information! And Lady Anissina has given me this most marvelous invention to help with that, Heika— the 'Stick-It-In-Me-kun™' machine!"
"Yuuri! You're not dry yet—you'll catch your death!"
"Good to be back, thanks; I'll look forward to—hey, hey!—t-tickles, tickles! Wolf-chan! – oh my gods, p-please, Wolf ! You've gotta stop it, stopit, stopit, stop! Wolfraaam!"
"Damn it, Yuuri! Just stay still for half a second! I'm almost done with your hair! Such a mess, you are, always; when will you learn—"
"Heika. We have a small situation on one border, but nothing that can't wait—oh, welcome back, Sage—"
"Hiya, Gwendal, how's everything? Everybody okay—? Ohmygoodness! Wolf—get a grip!"
"Gwendal, Gunter, Conrad," the Sage nodded in polite response and went on to chat with them quietly, his even tones a quiet background to the babble of Yuuri's continued protests and greetings to the staff mysteriously gathering in the courtyard and Wolfram's more strident and overriding orders to 'Wait just a sec—nearly finished—hang on, you stupid wimp!'
Conrad intervened at last and ably rescued his godson, as he did every time, and a discombobulated Yuuri was whisked away by a phalanx formed of a happy Gunter and a determined Gwendal, Weller and the Sage, the foursome leaving Wolf standing deserted by the fountain, surrounded by sodden packages, damp cotton toweling drooping from his clenched fingers.
But the jealous blonde youth was smiling – grinning, actually – and he flipped his glorious hair back in the usual nonchalant way, discarding the cold fabric and the weirdly wrapped packets for the servants to deal with. A rush of girlish 'ooohs!" sounded like the cooing of doves, filling the quiet left in the courtyard. Several of the younger maids and stable boys fainted in reaction to the sparkle of Lord Wolfram in the sunlight, his saturated uniform askew from battling the Maou over hygiene and clinging in highly suggestive areas with leftover moisture from the fountain.
"Welcome back, wimp."
Yuuri had squeezed his hands in the middle of all that ruckus—had laced his fingers with Wolf's and tightened them firmly, intentionally, as if to acknowledge the anxiety Wolf couldn't control, the relief his in-your-face fussing did not a thing to disguise. It had been bliss to have something so solid to latch on to, to cherish. Such a small act, no more than a gesture, but it meant so much.
Time to get moving – have a quick bath, for Yuuri's pesky dampness had somehow spread on Wolf's own pristine uniform – grab some food on a tray from the kitchens or at least alert the maids tea was needed momentarily, because the wimp would require a substantial snack now he was returned at last from that devilish Earth-place – ensure their bed was made and sheets were fresh instead of 'Yuuri-scented'—
Track down Greta and let her know, as soon as possible, that 'Papa Yuuri' was once more in residence. Share a secretive giggle with her and plot something enjoyable for Yuuri to do with his family on the 'morrow. Tomorrow…oh, tomorrow!
And then, of course, there was tonight to anticipate....