Title: How Things Were
Author: Alice
Fandom(s): Kyou Kara Maou
Spoilers: None.
Pairings/Characters: Günter, Günter's siblings. Yes, all of them.
Summary: A brief look at Günter and his brothers and sisters and how they were when they were young.
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied incest in one part.
Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not owned by me, however, a majority of the characters appearing in this fic do. With the exception of Günter, all of the characters appearing in this fic are OCs created to give him a full family and background.
Author's Notes: Just an exercise in writing Günter and his siblings. There will be a sequel written in the same fashion that will show Günter and his siblings as they are during the present timeline, as this story takes place looooooong pre-series. For the record, the siblings appear oldest to youngest with Günter coming between Adelinde and Franz. This is made fairly clear but not ever directly stated.

HOW THINGS WERE

I.

Leberecht von Kleist looked up from his studies at the sound of a loud and frantic knocking on his door. He frowned and called for the person to come in. The door was thrown open and Günter lunged into the room, shutting the door behind him, before turning to face his brother, wide-eyed. He was panting heavily and looked as though he'd spent the better part of the last hour running nonstop. "Hide me!" he gasped out, stumbling forward towards Leberecht.

The elder von Kleist stood quickly and grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders. "Hide you from who?!" he demanded, glancing warily towards the door as if expecting someone to burst through after Günter.

"L-Lady Cheri's son!" Günter replied, terrified. "The oldest one! He won't. Leave me alone! He keeps following me, asking me to duel him and I just, I don't want to! I already fought him and won, what more does he want from me?!"

Leberecht paused for a moment to consider this. "Perhaps he has trained extensively since your last battle and wishes for a rematch?"

"Our battle was last week!"

"Ah, well then. I have no answers for you."

"HIDE ME THEN."

"Alright, alright," Leberecht said with a laugh, raising his hands in defense. Not that it was really necessary. Even at his scariest, Günter was no match against Leberecht. Günter was considerably small than Leberecht: most people were, given, as Leberecht's build was reminiscent of a half-giant. Their parents had many theories concerning this, most of which were incredibly far-fetched. Ultimately they'd decided that he was the embodiment of Klaus von Kleist's missing masculinity, which was a blow to their father's pride but all the same appeared to be true since Leberecht did have their father's face and hair and gentleness.

He gently guided Günter to sit on the edge of his bed before sitting himself down back in his seat at his desk and peered anxiously at his brother. "Are you sure that's all?"

"Yes, why?"

"I don't know, you just look…" he thought for a moment on what word would accurately describe Günter's current state and settled on "disheveled."

"Do I?" Günter asked, not looking at Leberecht.

There was a pause.

"If someone's bothering you – aside from the Queen's son, anyway, since I can't really do anything about that – just let me know and I'll go set them straight for you."

Günter laughed. "That's not necessary. It's nothing."

"You sure? Absolutely positive?"

"Really. It's nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

Günter smiled. "Only when I'm lying to you."

There was another pause.

Leberecht sighed. "Look, Lilac, I still have some work to do so you're welcome to stay here as long as you need. Read a book or something."

Günter nodded and immediately stood, heading over to Leberecht's shelf and rummaging through his books for one that caught his attention. Leberecht watched him for a moment before turning back to his work. There wasn't much else he could do. He could protect Günter from little children who annoyed him or other Mazoku who wished him harm but Leberecht knew all too well that what was ailing Günter was not something he, or anyone but Günter, could fix.

If it even could be fixed.

II.

"So, how exactly did Liafwin manage this?" Adelinde asked, shaking her head as Günter handed her their sister's broken toy.

"I'm not sure. I think she threw it out of a window."

"Of course she would," she said, turning the toy over in her hands, examining the damage. "Must have been a high window."

"Can you fix it?" Günter asked, peering over his sister's shoulder, curiously.

She nodded. "I should be able to, yes."

"Oh, good. She seemed really upset about it. Given," he added as an after thought, "she really shouldn't have thrown the damn thing if she was just going to get upset about it later."

"She's young," Adelinde said. "She doesn't know better."

"She should."

"She'll learn."

Günter rolled his eyes but said nothing. There was no point in trying to argue with her over this. He watched as Adelinde set down the broken toy on her work desk and set about her room, grabbing the tools she'd need to repair it and then set out to complete her task. Günter tried to feign interest but he couldn't help but stare curiously at her as she busied herself. Günter was considered a genius and was multi-talented in many areas, but he never could fully wrap his mind around mechanics. Simple things like how to repair a small toy was beyond him, and yet it came easily to Adelinde. He'd never admit that he was a tad bit jealous that there was something she excelled in so thoroughly that he couldn't even get the basics down in.

"So," Adelinde ventured after a few minutes of silence, "how are you? You feeling alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"What is it with you two and always pestering me about if I'm alright or not? Yes, really, I'm fine."

"You two?"

"You and Leberecht."

"Well, we're your older siblings, Günter. It's our job to look after you."

"Looking after me isn't the same thing as pestering me."

"I'm not pestering you!"

"Yes, you are."

She turned to face him, fists clenched at her sides, biting her bottom lip. "I'm just worried about you, is that so wrong?"

"You're pestering me," he replied, staring at the floor.

"I am not!" she said, angrily, and Günter was sure if he looked up at her she'd have tears in her eyes. She also got so emotional and frustrated when her younger siblings didn't listen to her or didn't accept her concern. And they never did. Never. How could they? She kept trying to act like their mother, and she wasn't. She wasn't anything like their mother. She didn't know how to be a mother.

"Do you think you'll be able to finish Lia's toy soon?" Günter said, calmly, still not looking at her. "I'm sure she'll want it back."

Adelinde sniffled and turned back to her work, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Yes, I should have it done within a half hour."

"Good."

And that was another reason Günter could never accept her motherly instincts towards him. They were never on at the right time. After all, his real mother would never have given up talking to him so easily.

III.

Günter had no idea how to handle it when Franz suddenly swooped in on him and wrapped his arms around Günter's shoulders and sang sweetly into his ear. It happened a lot, and often times in public, and often in front of the kids, and that was something Günter did not like. He hated being embarrassed but more than that he hated his younger siblings seeing him so vulnerable and Franz had a way about him of always making Günter feel just that.

And it was so strange because Franz was younger than him but towered over him. Towered over all of them, actually, except Leberecht. And he would look down at Günter with a playful smile on his lips, and his supposedly special black hair framing his face, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Any it was always, always Günter that Franz targeted. He joked with Leberecht and Adelinde and played with the younger kids, but he paid no one as much attention as he did Günter, nor the same kind of attention.

But somehow Günter didn't mind, not really. How could he mind when Hedwig and Lia ran up to him to pull him into their mother's drawing room to show him the new dance Franz had taught them to do. Franz would be in the room, leaning on the piano with a wide grin of delight and would play the music and sing the song while the two small girls danced about and Günter would watch, amused. At the end of it the girls would cheer for Franz, and he'd bow dramatically, and Günter would applaud them, trying his best not to smile too. Not to get too caught up in the short lived happy moment.

Günter was very easily annoyed with him, though, especially when he was trying to get work done and Franz wouldn't leave him alone. "Don't you have your own studies to do?" Günter would snap, glaring at his younger brother over his shoulder. "Really, Franz, you know mother and father purposefully got you the best teachers they could because of your potential as someone with black hair. Now why in the world would you blow that off?"

Franz shrugged. "Because," he said, lazily, "it's boring? I mean it's not like I ever asked to have special teachings or whatever, they just forced it on me. I'm much more content just-"

"Goofing off?" Günter cut in.

"Well, yes," Franz said with a smile and a laugh.

Günter let out a haughty sigh and shook his head, not turning to look back at the black-haired boy. "So would you like me to sing for you?" Franz asked him after realizing that Günter had no intentions of speaking to him.

Günter stayed strong. He didn't respond.

"Oh, good then," Franz said and opened his mouth to sing.

"Why do you always do that?"

Günter asked, swiftly, turning to face Franz again.

"What, sing for you?"

"Yes," Günter said, nodding.

Franz thought it over before breaking out into yet another wide grin. "Because you like it!"

Günter twiddled his thumbs and turned away again.

There really was no way for him to hate the attention, not when it was from Franz. He always knew how to cheer Günter up and make him feel good about himself. Knew how to make Günter's heart swell with each note he sang and Günter knew, somehow, that he shouldn't like it, that it wasn't anything good, but he loved it. And he couldn't understand why, or why Franz paid him such attention in the first place, but the idea that he should ever stop terrified Günter more than it rightful ever should have.

IV.

"I am going to grow up," Liafwin informed him one day, brandishing a wooden sword in his direction, "to be the greatest knight that ever lived!"

"Is that so?" Günter asked, a smile on his lips as he looked down at the small girl. She was nothing like the image of a knight, her blonde curls and blue eyes and pale skin that all so greatly looked like their mother and indicated that she'd grow into a beautiful woman. But Günter knew from having seen his mother in action that the von Kleist women were no strangers to the ways of the sword, and if Lia wanted to become a knight, then chances were she had a good shot. "You'll have to have mother teach you swordplay, Lia. She's the best in the land."

"Really?" she asked, eyes widening in wonderment. "Amazing!" Günter loved how she didn't even have to question it.

"Father is pretty good, too," Günter added, thoughtfully. "You should have them both teach you."

"Günter is pretty amazing, too!" Lia exclaimed, pointing her wooden sword at him. "I saw you fighting before! You beat them gooooood."

Günter laughed at her. "I, well, yes, I guess I am alright myself. I'm not sure I'd want to teach you, though."

"Why not? You teach me everything else," Lia reminded him, swinging the sword around a bit, experimentally. "If you, mother and father all teach me, there'll be no way I won't become a knight! A grand knight, dashing about saving damsels in distress, and all that stuff!"

"Do you wish to be a prince as well?"

"Can a prince be a knight?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Then yes!" She raised her small fists into the air, still clutching the sword in one hand, and declared loudly, "Prince Lia the Knight!"

"I'm sure you'll do wonderfully," Günter said, calmly.

She turned to look at him, a smirk firmly in place. "Do not underestimate me, dear big brother," she said, amused. "One day I may even surpass you, and then what will you do?"

Günter laughed again. "We'll see when that happens!" he said, and quickly raised his hands to hold her back as she lunged at him, arms swinging wildly and yelling, proudly, "I am the prince!"

V.

He knew she was there the moment she entered the room. He didn't look up to acknowledge her, though, until he saw the top of her red hair and her blue eyes peering inquisitively at him over the edge of his desk. "Need something, Hedwig?" he asked, calmly. She nodded her head and then disappeared behind the desk (having been standing on tip-toes) before scuffling around to stand beside Günter.

"Günter!" she squealed excitedly, throwing her small arms around his legs. "Günter, I have a question!"

"Okay, ask away," he said, chuckling.

Hedwig launched into an explanation. "Well, it's just, earlier I sawed-"

"Saw. You saw."

"-I saw Addy and Leb talking to papa and they were talking about why the sky is dark – which you know I've never really wondered about but I probably should have I mean it's not supposed to be normal, never seeing the sun – but anyway they were talking about that and they said something about a castle or something. Floating in the sky. They mentioned you and I was wondering, do you know what they was talking about?"

Günter didn't have it in him at that point to correct her word choice. He was frozen in place, staring at her as if she'd grown another head. His fists were clenched tightly on his lap and she didn't notice, staring up at him with her big, innocent eyes that just wanted an answer to a question. It's not like she understood just what she'd asked, or rather, what she was asking Günter to do.

Still, there was no real point beating around the bush. She'd know the truth someday anyway, what was the harm in telling her a watered down version now? He'd known far more than she at a younger age, anyway.

"Well, I- Hedwig, you know that humans and Mazoku look alike, correct?"

"Yep!" she said, nodding.

"Well, that's because humans and Mazoku share the same ancestors," Günter said, and Hedwig gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth. Günter continued. "Before even Shinou's time, there was a higher race of beings that was divided into many tries, some that did good things… and some bad. Now, some of the groups of these people had strange and mystical powers, which was much stronger then but would one day develop into our modern magic. Now, these tribes lived very separated form each other and as such, they each evolved different to better suit their varying environments. Before long all of the original tribes died out or evolved into completely new species, the two main new species surfacing being Mazoku and humans. However, one of the tribes survived, but in small numbers. They lived in the region of the land that would one day belong to Kleist. They lived there for centuries, unbothered, unchanging, until the time of the Great One and the founding of Shin Makoku. Not knowing that the land belonged to this ancient tribe, Shinou gave it to the von Kleist family. When they realized there were natives there… the land was theirs, officially, as far as they were concerned. They fought over the land, and Shinou even got involved and it reached a point where the ancient tribe, though magically still superior to the Mazoku had fewer numbers and were forced to retreat. The Queen, Wilhelmina, built a great castle and gathered all of her people into its depths and raised it into the sky and with her magic concealed it from sight and placed it in front of the sun, casting the land of Kleist in darkness forever more. To this day, as long as the sun does not shine on Kleist, it is a reminder to us that Wilhelmina still lives and her people are waiting and watching, preparing for the perfect opportunity to strike and reclaim their land."

They lapsed into a silence as Günter finished his story, and Hedwig stared at him in awe. "Is that a true story?" she asked, breathless. Günter nodded. "So cool!" she exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder.

Günter flinched. "How is that cool?"

"How is it not?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, confused. "I mean, this was their land, right? I think it's cool that we have a piece of history floating over our heads! But… if we can't see the castle, how do we know it's really there?"

Günter flinched again. "Just trust me, Hedwig, we know. It's. It is most definitely there."

"Well what's so scary about that?" she wondered, frowning at him. "I mean if they were so strong they'd have reclaimed this land already, right?"

He shook his head. "Not… necessarily. There are some reasons why they'd hold off on it even if they did have the power to take it back. And… believe me, Hedwig, they're… terrifying."

"You say that as if you've seen 'em," she said, suspiciously. "Have you?"

He shook his head, slowly this time. "No. Never."

"Really?"

"Really."

She didn't believe him. Günter knew she didn't. She didn't know what the truth was, Günter was sure, but she knew what he was telling her was not it. Still, she couldn't prove it and she knew that so she didn't push it any further. She had other things of importance to do.

"It's raining," she declared, turning and trotting towards the door. "I'mma go build a mudman, okay?"

"Okay, Hedwig, just be careful!" Günter called after her.

"I will be!" she called before darting off out the door, her red hair trailing behind her. She started after once she was gone and twiddled his thumbs. He hadn't lied to her; not fully. He couldn't tell her the full truth yet. She wasn't old enough to understand. But he did know, oh did he know, and how did it scare him to know, every time he looked out the window, up at the sky like black velvet, that there was someone up there watching him and he couldn't see them.

VI. & VII.

Wendell and Verena were scared of him. Günter could never be sure why, they were still only toddlers after all, barely knew how to speak, but the albino twins were absolutely terrified of him. And it wasn't a matter of them just being scared, it was him, specifically, that they feared. They were shy, both of them, always clinging to each other and not wanting to interact with anyone else and getting embarrassed when someone tried to talk to them. But it was Günter from whom they fled when he walked into the same room as them.

When Günter was left in charge of them for awhile, he'd set them on the ground and watch them play from a safe distance. He couldn't get too close to them without having them both start crying. He wouldn't interfere as Wendell smacked his sister upside the head or when Verena retaliated by grabbing her brother's hair and giving it a firm tug. He left them too it. He knew from experience that they would also resolve things on their own, somehow, and that him trying to help them would only make matters worse.

But it was an absolutely horrible feeling for Günter when even Adelinde got along better with the twins than he did. And he had no idea why. He had never done anything to them, never dropped them or poked them. He'd always defended them against Hedwig and Lia, both of whom didn't seem to comprehend that babies can't play hide and seek or sword fighting.

What had he ever done to cause them to fear him so?

There was a reason for it, he knew, he saw that it was there in their eyes when they looked at him. It was just a random fear, it had a basis.

And Günter wasn't quite sure he wanted to know just what that basis was.

VIII.

Irmalinda.

That's what his mother had wanted to name her and what his father had chosen to keep. He was alright with that, it was a nice name. He'd remember it. Always. He'd remember the name and nothing else, nothing but the small, pudgy face and the trace amounts of oddly pink hair on her head. The newborn baby who he was making the conscious choice to leave behind. Who he wouldn't know.

Irmalinda.

She was asleep. His father was asleep in the room next door and Günter had to be quiet when he approached her, for fear of her waking and crying and alerting his father. He wanted to see her, though, at least once before he left. He had no intentions of coming back, and he knew that the others wouldn't come after him. Well. Franz, maybe. But Günter wasn't counting on it. Certainly he didn't expect to see the baby again. And for some reason that scared him more than the thought that he'd never see his father, Franz, Hedwig, Lia, any of them again, or his home. He'd never see his home again but that didn't matter, not as much as this newborn baby did.

Maybe it was because that was two family members she'd now never know. Not him, and not their mother. She'd be the only von Kleist child to have never known their mother, their wonderful, wonderful mother. The twins wouldn't remember much of her, he suspected, but they'd remember enough. Hedwig and Lia would never forget her. How could they? Hedwig idolized her and Lia looked just like her. It would be only Irmalinda who would have not a single memory of her. Only the knowledge that she'd died giving birth to her. And her only memory of Günter would be that he left before she was even two weeks old. Without even saying goodbye.

Günter gripped the edge of the crib so tightly his knuckles were white.

The ninth and the last von Kleist child. He never thought he'd see the day.

He reached towards her, intending to run his thumb over her cheek, feel that tiny bit of hair on her head, but he stopped himself and pulled his hand back, thinking better of it. He could wake her. "Father will take good care of you," he whispered to her, trying to reassure her just as much as he was trying to reassure himself. "They all will. You won't miss at all. Won't need me." And he had to believe it. Had to believe that she'd, that they'd all be fine because if they weren't he couldn't leave and he had to go. Had to get out. "I just hope you're able to forgive me," he said, to Irmalinda, to his father in the next room, to his brothers and sisters. To his mother. "I truly hope you can forgive me."

Because I know I won't.

Günter turned, slowly, trying to fight his own tears because damnit this was really it, this was really the end. It was time to move on. He walked forward, slowly, towards the door and opened it and thought for a moment to look back but decided against it and continued forward.

Because I know I won't. And I doubt you will.

But I still have to hope.

fin

Any and all feedback welcome.