Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine and there's no money being made off of the piece I wrote below. So, no sue me- k? K.

Shibuya Yuuri was pedaling his bike as furiously as he could and it was not because of the dark, heavy clouds that hung overhead and threatened rain. He had known that it was going to rain since that morning, in fact he had even brought an umbrella with him to school. But unlike the most recent magical events that continued to persist in his life despite his initial fervent wishes for them to do otherwise, this particular predicament was not magic related.

He'd gone to classes as usual that morning and had expected nothing out of the ordinary, except perhaps for the usual summonings by the priestess Ulrike at the most unusual places (although the fact that he now saw the summonings as a usual recurrence in his life bothered him somewhat.) Sometime about midday though, as he was making his way back to his classes after he and Murata took their lunch under one of the huge Sakura trees at the back of their school, Yuuri had been approached (ambushed, more like) by a silver haired boy whom he judged to be about a year his junior.

He had often seen the guy out in the baseball fields as he stood in the sidelines, bunched up with the other onlookers, quietly yet intently watching them practice. More than once he had caught glances aimed at his friend, and for some time Yuuri had strongly entertained the idea that the guy was tailing Murata. But Yuuri had his doubts as to what the guy truly wanted from his friend. It was not until last Saturday's practice that he had finally confirmed his suspicions about the guy's motives towards his seemingly unsuspecting friend. That day, when the team's rookie batters had managed to hit a homerun, Murata had been especially ecstatic and generous with his praises regarding his coaching abilities in front of his whole team. When his eyes strayed to where the guy usually sat, Yuuri saw anger in his face and something more. He had been quick to place the emotion as jealousy, what with him being subjected to Wolfram's all too frequent emotional outbursts.

The former him would have been stumped in disbelief that another guy was falling for his best friend. The new him, however, the one who was now hailed as Shin Makoku's new king, escorted daily to his kingdom's castle by a couple of winged, flying demon skeletons and currently engaged to a tantrum throwing bishounen, took the discovery in stride and settled back to see how it would turn out for them both.

But fate, who constantly badgered his life with her own morbid brand of humor, had dealt an entirely different set of cards for him that day.

Yuuri had assumed that the guy, who introduced himself as Mikuni Tetsuya of class 1-B, only wanted to talk to him about something that had to do with his best friend. However, when both of the guy's arms suddenly shot straight out to him, he had raised his own arms in defense, thinking that he was being attacked.

The guy must have been serious about how he felt for Murata, enough for him to take action and attack his supposed rival out in the school's hallways and risk being expelled for doing so. He could, perhaps, take him on in a fair fight but if any of the school personnel caught him pulling his punches against a freshman, even if it was in the act of self defense, a report would be issued and the incident would surely appear on his records. Both of their necks would be placed on the chopping block and, God forbid, his mother would be notified of his son's wayward behavior. And from that point on, he might as well not go on living.

More thoughts were stumbling over one another in a desperate scramble to get to the forefront of his mind and, after standing there for a couple of minutes like the wimp that Wolfram was so fond of calling him, he realized that neither fist nor foot had been thrown his way. Confused, he peeked behind the arms he had thrown in front of him to defend his face and saw, clutched between the white knuckled fingers of his attacker, a small, elegantly wrapped blue box with a tiny silver bow on top.

Only after he had fully lowered his arms to stare dumbly at the offering did the guy speak. The words spilled out of the guy's mouth rapidly, much like a fresh batch of flopping fishes being dumped in the bow of a fishing trawler. Nevertheless, Yuuri caught the meaning of the words and, at a loss of what to do, had stared there gaping very much like a fish himself.

His mind flashed closely on the scene as he had stood there, his mind drawing a constant blank as to the proper course of action he should take, while Mikuni Tetsuya continued to profess his feelings for him. In the end, Yuuri had sighed, given both the box and its owner a regretful look and gently tried to explain to Mikuni that he could not accept either of what he was being offered. It was difficult (because he had never before been professed to by a guy, not even by Wolfram) and he had tried to take the sting out of the rejection by smiling at him. It seemed to have the opposite effect though, as Mikuni had burst into tears in front of him. Frustrated and desperate to end the encounter, Yuuri had hugged him and the smaller boy had tentatively clung to him, grateful for the offer of comfort. Too grateful, he remembered thinking, as he had a bit of trouble prying himself out of the other's arms afterwards, but he thought it was worth it when he saw the smile Mikuni gave him past the tears.

Half of him was regretting that action now while the other half was insisting that he should have just given the boy a comforting pat on the arm, or better yet, he should have rejected him harshly and dashed as quickly as he could out of there. That way, the other half of him reasoned, Mikuni's childish infatuation towards him would have shattered and he would not be out here in the rain trying to stop something that his conscience had no real desire to be a part of.

But Yuuri knew that he couldn't have done that anymore than he could tell Wolfram that his jealousy was well and rightly placed. A horn blared as a delivery truck sped past him and he barely missed the turn to the last street. He willed his legs to pedal harder and, as the first big raindrops fell from the sky, he wished to God he could fly the last couple of meters just to get there in time.

That afternoon, he had opened his locker to store his change of shoes inside and saw an envelope lying innocuously atop his pencil case. Doubtful as to why someone would be sending him letters at school, he had taken the envelope, sat on the flat wooden bench nearby and inspected it. The letter had been, indeed, addressed to him, as evincedby the thin, slightly sloping characters of his name printed in a neat, elegant set of characters that took up the upper right half of the crisp white envelope. He had first entertained the thought of throwing it away, but finally gave in to his curiosity. He had carefully torn open the envelope and read its contents. That gnawing guilty feeling he felt when he saw who had penned the letter had gradually given way to shock and disbelief. After securing the lock on his locker, he had raced to the freshmen's block of the building, tossing the crumpled letter on a waste bin along the way. He had almost lost it when he saw the halls deserted due to the fact that the freshmen were dismissed a half hour before them, something that had slipped his mind in his haste to get there. Fortunately for his sanity, someone from class B had remained that day to assemble the marks to be placed on their class' bulletin board. Mikuni had been a pretty popular student in their class it seemed and the student had only been too eager to talk about almost everything about his silver haired idol. He had almost forgotten to thank him for his help, before he had torn out to the grounds where his bike was parked.

After pedaling like a hoard of Annisinna's clones were after him, he had reached Mikuni's house only to find out from his raven-haired sister that he wasn't there. In a panic, Yuuri had asked where Mikuni might be and the girl had told him that his brother usually preferred to spend his time near the riverbank south of their home. Yuuri could have pounded his head in the concrete for being such an idiot. Of course, by all means, Mikuni would be there, his mind practically shouted at him. Once again, he had almost forgotten to thank his informant before he tore out of the place, desperate to make it in time.

He sped past the high gates and high walls and houses with their barking dogs and rounded another corner marked by a telephone post, the raindrops coming down faster all around him. The pavement was made slick and slippery by the rainfall, and he could feel the wheels on his bike fighting to gain control as he continued to speed towards his destination.

While he pushed his body to its limits trying to break the speed of light using bike wheels, a voice at the back of his mind casually remarked that this would be a very bad time for Ulrike to summon him. A very bad time indeed, it repeated tauntingly at him before dissolving in the darkness there.

On the last bend, he wiped his sleeve past his eyes in an effort to see more clearly. That small action cost him his balance and the wheels of his bike gave way to the rain slicked pavement. Yuuri was treated to the sight of his bike skidding a few meters ahead of him, screeching as metal scraped the concrete, seconds before Yuuri's body impacted on the hard ground. His arms automatically came up to shield his face as his body was dragged painfully over the rough concrete. A full minute after he had stopped, he rolled over onto his back and faced the weeping heavens, letting the raindrops beat on the scrape on his chin and the throbbing bump on the left side of his temple, while he tried to gather his scattered wits about him.

'Get to Mikuni,' His mind directed insistently and with a groan, he pushed himself up and off the ground. The sight that greeted him made him want to weep right along with the heavens in relief. Somehow, he had managed to reach the riverbank in time because there, close to the water's edge, stood a small, drenched form, clad in the standard issued black high school uniform, his silver hair standing out from amongst the drabness of his surroundings.

"Mikuni!" He yelled over the din of the downpour, willing the other boy to hear it as he

ambled painfully down the slippery grassy slope towards him.

The silver haired head turned upon hearing the voice and his eyes widened at the sight of a bruised and severely out of breath Yuuri now standing before him.

"Mikuni," Yuuri gave into his body's wishes and he bent over, coughing fit to spill his lungs out.

Concerned, Mikuni draped one arm around Yuuri while the other tried to soothe the spasms in his chest. He winced as another painful sounding cough sounded from Yuuri's chest. "Are you all right?"

Yuuri straightened out at the concern that was all too apparent in Mikuni's voice. He wiped a patch of dripping hair out of his eyebrows and smiled in relief at seeing him wholly unscathed.

"I'm fine. I-"

Lightning streaked its jagged path across the heavens and as the thunder boomed loudly in its wake, Yuuri caught the sudden glint of blue on a dangling pendant that peeked out of Mikuni's pocket.

Yuuri couldn't help himself. His hand instinctively made a grab for the precious blue stone.

Mikuni saw the telltale widening of his Yuuri's dark eyes and the slackening of his finely formed lips. It was enough of a warning for him and he nimbly stepped out of Yuuri's reach.

"Mikuni, please." Yuuri tried to approach the silver haired boy in front of him. Both of them were soaked to the bone. His shoes squelched as he made his way towards Mikuni, the mud thick and sticky beneath his feet.

"Stay back or I'll…I'll" Mikuni raised snatched the pendant from his pocket. It dangled teasingly back and forth from the brown strip of leather as Mikuni raised his fist in the air.

"No, give it back!" Yuuri shouted in desperation and fought off the urge to tackle Mikuni onto the ground.

"This," Mikuni's fingers closed even more tightly upon the strip of leather he held captive in his fist. "This means so much to you, doesn't it? Was this given to you by that stupid boyfriend of yours?"

"What?" Yuuri asked, perplexity and distress warring in his features.

"Your boyfriend, Murata Ken? He gave this to you, didn't he?"

"No!" For a brief instant, images of coffee colored hair and eyes coupled with a heartbreakingly warm smile flashed before him, and Yuuri shook his head. "What are you talking about? Murata is just my best friend! He's not-" Yuuri shook his head again, the patches of rain soaked hair plastered on his face whipping about with the movement. "Please, Mikuni," He didn't want to resort the begging, but judging by the dark look the silver haired boy was giving him, he didn't have any choice- not if he wanted the pendant back. "Please, just give it back."

For a moment, Mikuni's resolve faltered and his heart went out to the chilled, soaked, pleading figure of the boy he had been assiduously following for the past month. But that feeling was made bitter when he realized that the only reason Yuuri had even bothered to be there was to get his precious pendant back.

"You're only here because of the pendant, aren't you?" Mikuni voiced his thoughts aloud, his eyes taking in every bit of Yuuri's reaction to his question.

"What I'm here for is because of what that letter told me." Yuuri took a calming breath to pace himself and focused his eyes on Mikuni's as he spoke. "It told me of a boy I've only had a chance to meet this afternoon. That boy told me what he felt about me. It had taken me completely by surprise and I honestly didn't know what to do. That sort of thing had never happened to me before and I knew I didn't know him enough to tell him what he wanted to hear from me, and so I refused."

"Does that mean, I still could…given time..?"

Once again the images flashed before his eyes and Yuuri slowly shook his head.

"I couldn't- I'm sorry but I just couldn't,"

"Then there is someone already?"

"Yes," Yuuri said in a voice too low to be heard over the pounding rain, but it was something that the silver haired boy couldn't miss, what with his eyes and ears trained on every word and gesture Yuuri made. "But it isn't Murata, it's not him, okay?" Yuuri added, still hoping that some twisted hand of fate would shift Mikuni's infatuation to his friend instead.

"Did that someone give you this?" Mikuni asked in a trembling voice, his eyes still pinned on Yuuri's face. Yuuri nodded faintly in answer.

Jealousy and anger swamped the silver haired boy's vision and for a moment he saw nothing but red.

Yuuri's scream soon brought him back to his senses. He saw himself huddled on the ground, his once perfectly starched uniform now thoroughly drenched and clinging in several places all over his body; his socks and shoes tainted with rainwater, silt, and mud. He felt colder than he had ever been and the only heat he felt came from the tears that were swiftly tracking their way down his face.

Then there were arms draped around him and the face that he had come to love so much swam into his view. The dark eyes that looked at him bore no sign of recrimination, only kindness and he was hugged again, engulfed by the same comforting warmth that had sheltered him that afternoon.

"I want you to know that I was glad when I saw you unhurt," The words came in tones that rang only of sincerity and Mikuni felt the tears falling faster down his cheeks. "I was glad that you were all right." The arms tightened around him and a voice whispered closely to his ear. "Hontou ni."

The arms slowly released him and he was left bitter and cold and very much alone again. It was a different kind of chill that swept through him, though, as he saw Yuuri stagger towards the edge of the bank. It was terror, his mind hinted vaguely at him, and he watched, body seemingly frozen into place, as Yuuri heaved a deep breath into his lungs right before he plunged into the churning, swirling waters of the river.

This time, it was Mikuni's turn to scream.

The river had swollen to twice its size and the murky waves tossed and turned with every forceful swell of water. Yuuri's arms pushed the water back to propel himself forward and his feet kicked in frantic spurts below as he tried to keep himself afloat. Another wave hit his head and this time, it forced him under. His feet kicked even more frantically than before as he tried to bring his head up and above the water once again. After what felt like forever, he broke through the surface, choking and gasping and feeling certain that his lungs were halfway filled with muddy river water. He kept on, nevertheless, wanting to reach that floating patch of debris where he saw the pendant's strap had luckily latched onto.

He knew it was foolish risking his life this way- he was certain his mother, no matter how annoying she seemed to be at times, was surely waiting for him at the supper table along with his favorite bowl of hot, spicy curry. His lateness must truly be worrying her by now. This thought prodded a burst of adrenaline to his veins and his limbs forced their way forcefully past the waves.

When another wave hit and submerged him again, images not unlike a slideshow began to flash behind his eyelids as he fought to make his way up once more.

There was Gwendal, chained to his desk by a high stack of paper work, slaving his days away in his stead. In his hand was a long, white plume- a tiny red ribbon tied near the base of the neat row of feathers- and it was swaying continuously back and forth, looking for all the world as if it was waving at him. Next came the deep, disapproving frown Wolfram often wore on his face as he called him weak, as he called him an adulterer, the jealousy burning in the depths of the vibrant green eyes. It faded slowly to reveal long threads of fine, lilac-tinged silver hair glinting in golden sunlight. The figure whirled around and beamed at him and for a few shocked seconds, Yuuri thought that it was Mikuni.

When he came gasping up for air again, he mercifully found the floating debris within reach. The debris appeared to be a huge chunk of torn, scrapped Styrofoam and other indiscernible pieces of garbage sticking out of it and hanging on for the free ride, much like his pendant had. Giddily, he clutched the pendant close to his chest and started the consuming task of making his way back to the bank.

He was scraped and bruised in more places than he cared to count and his leg muscles were twitching and threatening to cramp up on him. His lungs, he felt, were now three quarters filled with nothing but river water and the mere effort to keep his head above water and breathe was tiring him at an alarming rate.

It was unbelievable how, amidst all the swirling water, he heard the sound of a deeply reverent voice, calling out to him.

"Conrad," He gasped out around a mouthful of dirty river water.

The voice's clarity was astounding and it felt as if the person he wanted the most to see was directly behind him. Then the voice called out to him again, softer this time. Yuuri kicked himself furiously back to the surface with the pendant still clutched to his chest and, despite the affection he felt for the voice's owner, shouted his retaliation at the much hated title as another clap of thunder boomed in the heavens.

"Stop calling me that, Nazukeoya!"

Once more a huge swell surged high above the small, struggling, gasping form, though unlike the others that preceded its arrival, it came bearing a gift in the form of a heavy looking tree bark that it generously presented with a smack to the back of Yuuri's head.

Yuuri's entire body went slack within seconds and this time, when his head slipped below the waves, it stayed beneath them for good.

AN: This is my first KKM fanfic. I wanted to write something about Yuuri and this is what came out. Watched the first two seasons KKM and they were really good. The third season rocks- animation's a whole lot beter this time around. Oops, gushing too much online. Gotta stop.