DISCLAIMER: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou. Not my property. No profit made.
Note: This is not an AU fic. Let's say something terrible has happened, and there have been some betrayals at every level (kingdom, couples etc.). And Yuuri has to exchange his place with Shouri for a few months, sent to Earth with Wolfram to spend time like students.
Ask For Forgiveness.
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.
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The kiss was strong, tender, soft, all of this at the same time. Yuuri felt drown in a whirl of irreal-ness and affection and love. The reluctant lips he had kissed so passionately had stopped protesting and quivering out of fear as the seconds passed. The rain left them damped and cold in the middle of a narrow grey street from where the noises and the feeble honking of cars and buses could be heard.
Slowly, the two young mazokus parted, their fingers trembling. Yuuri had held the blond man by the arms but his hands had slid along his waist.
Wolfram hadn't pushed him away when the king had chosen a more intimate embrace than he touching his arms. He opened his green eyes, little by little, as if he was scared of the reality of their just recent action.
Yuuri watched him carefully, admiring the beautiful and proud features of his former fiancé but also searching for any sign of Wolfram's emotions. He wondered, as Wolfram released his shirt (that he had clutched hard during the kiss) if the blond was angry or peaceful enough to speak with him.
After all, they had become friends again...No...Not friends, good acquaintances suited better. He had had to watch Wolfram keeping Yuuri at a distance and looking at him with disdain and hurtful coldness every time their eyes met, by chance or not. Because Yuuri would often search for Wolfram's attention (whether discreetly or aggressively) in classes etc.. He had also had to watch Wolfram being more and more friendly with other people, in particular that tall dark-haired and huge brown eyed guy, Georges Loufee. Wolfram had seated beside this boy, in every school day, ignoring Yuuri and minding his own business with a nearly perfect serenity and even composed attitude. At that time, Yuuri, feeling bitter and often glancing at Wolfram and Georges while the two calmly chatted, was comparing their days in Shin Makoku when things were so much better. The Wolfram here was the same Wolfram who would chase him everywhere, promised him to love him no matter what and comforted him every time Yuuri's eyes would fill with tears and his heart swell with either anger or sadness.
The realization of such difference in their relationship dawned on Yuuri each night. Sleep was getting hard to get.
He loved Wolfram.
He counted the minutes, until the first rays of day would pass between his curtains.
Ask for forgiveness. He had had.
First, one day Yuuri had tried to catch Wolfram by the hand and lead him towards a more secluded area of the school (this was the only place they could meet; Wolfram not telling anyone-except Georges and a few other friends- where he lived). But the young blond man had jerked his hand free and pierced Yuuri's heart with a dark, painful glare. Then he had walked away.
The second time, Yuuri had come to Wolfram while all the class was playing sports with some other class. It was a football session and Wolfram proved everyone to be one of the best, better at it than baseball (Yuuri's favourite game). Mid-hour, the teacher asked people to train again in the field corners. Yuuri trotted with a smile towards Wolfram who was stretching. The green-eyed man's gracefulness was stolen in numerous glances from other classmates. But he didn't seem to notice them. "Hey, Wolf, want to kick the ball a little? I need some training at it!" Yuuri thought the joyful, friendly suggestion would attract Wolfram's appreciation and soft spot.
The green disdainful look and the terrible scornful silence that followed froze Yuuri to the ground. Wolfram turned his heels away, joining other friends.
xxx
The third time, the French teacher organized a work group. People had to work two by two on a small essay about French food. To Wolfram's silent chagrin, he and Yuuri were paired together. Yuuri, as he raised to his feet to seat beside his partner, caught notice of Georges' sympathetic look at Wolfram. Good luck, I know working with Yuuri must be exhausting and boring. Anger rose within Yuuri like a sky-rocket and he clenched the back of his chair not to kill the kid with his own sympathetic glare. He sat down at Wolf's left, trying to ignore the pain that strangled his heart. "Well, where do we start?" he asked in what he thought a pleasant tone. Wolfram kept his head hidden behind his hand- he was leaning on his left elbow, head resting on his left hand. The attitude was more than unwelcoming. Yuuri smiled, less happily this time, and remained polite.
While every group was chatting, loudly, it seemed a wall of ice had elevated between Yuuri and Wolfram, cutting all possibilities of communication. Yuuri could barely see the sentences of the exercise. His attention solely went to Wolfram and his rejection. His smile stayed, like stuck to his lips. His black eyes often wandered towards the golden locks; but the green eyes remained hidden. "How do we call this weird dish, you know? The one with an egg on a top of raw cow meat?" Yuuri asked. It was his fourth question. The fourth time also Wolfram said nothing and kept his face away. "We could read our texts to each other, maybe. We'll correct each other if need be." His suggestion was answered by indifference and silence, again. A bullet of paper landed on Wolfram's shoulder. The young man turned around only to see Georges smiling, warm and affectionate, at him. Wolfram's lips curved into a tiny smile.
"Hai finito?" asked Georges.
"Non veramente. Ho ancora tre paragrafi da scrivere. Non ricordo di tutto ho mangiato quando sono andato a Parigi l'anno scorso." (1)
They exchanged a few words before Wolfram went back to his work.
"Wow, which language have you just spoken, Wolfram?" Yuuri asked with a smile, but his heart was bleeding at the knowledge that Wolfram and Georges shared a language that seemed special to them. Wolfram could then speak another language which was not Shin Makoku's or Japanese. He had found time to learn something else with Georges. They must have met very often...When?...where?"This was very surprising!"
Wolfram's only answer-and if it could be considered an answer- was his facial expression hardening, scowling with pure contempt. Yuuri slowly returned to his text. Sometimes people smile even when the heart isn't there, but the circumstances make it obligatory, compulsory to smile. To show that you are not hurt. That you don't want to cry. Yuuri thought this reality to be so true at the moment.
Wolfram was finished with his text. Still, there were corrections to be brought. He realized all the mistakes he had made and sighed with exasperation. Suddenly, a small paper was timidly pushed towards him so that his eyes could see it.
Wolfram glanced at it, and then focused back on his essay.
...However, his mind boggled. It wasn't easy to dismiss something such as:
I'm at my most sorry.
Two hearts were swelling big within two too tight chests. One with deep chagrin-hidden. The other, with emotion.
That day, Yuuri was going back home, dragging his feet. Tired. When he arrived at his apartment, he noticed he had let the window open all morning long. Now the living-room was feeling chilly. The wind was making the curtains dance in slow, ghostly move. Yuuri stared at it, pacing out. Then coming back to his senses, he closed the window and headed for the kitchen. He had bought the fourth bottle of wine in the week and he realized as he took it out that he had already opened it. Half of the content had already been consumed. Yuuri didn't remember to have drunk so much wine. Well, he still poured some in a glass and carrying it, headed back to the living-room and sat down on the couch. Minutes flew while his mind dived into the deepest abysses of memories. In which state had he left his kingdom? Why hadn't he been able to secure it? And Wolfram.
Yuuri sighed. The silence of the room was starting to weigh on Yuuri worst than rocks. He opened his bag and withdrew from within a sheet of paper and a pen. As though writing unclenched the thorned branches that kept his heart locked in a prison, words flooded the pages, freely, chainless. He didn't know how long the letter took to be done, but at the end, Yuuri felt both immensely relieved and exhausted. He had trusted his heart in something. Now only counted whether or not it would be accepted.
Wolfram went back home the day after, his return peaceful. He had spent a good day. As he arrived, he headed for his bedroom and granted himself a small nap. He wished he could go back to Shin Makoku, ride his horse and read great stories to Greta. An hour later, the boy woke up from his slumber. It was time for his homework.
As he opened his agenda, he noticed the envelope that had the notebook open between April, 29th and 30th. Curiousness aroused Wolfram. He opened it with careful fingers. The writing had his heart pound harder all of a sudden. He could recognize it everywhere. His first reaction was to rip the letter and throw it in the dustbin. Wolfram frowned, closing his eyes.
No, curiousness was stronger. Despite the hard feelings he had against Yuuri, Wolfram felt the temptation to know what he had to say too powerful to resist. When had that wimp slid this letter in his bag?
Breath nervous, hands trembling, Wolfram unfolded the letter.
Wolfram,
I'm writing you this letter because my voice can't seem to reach you. Neither my physical presence. Nor my touch. So maybe words will succeed where everything else has failed.
I wanted to say how sorry I am for everything that happened because of me. It had never been my intention to hurt my family over there in Shin Makoku, you and all our friends are what matter the most to me. Unfortunately, your trust in me has been broken by my own fault. I'm trying so hard to fix everything but I know you don't care much. I've seen how you try to push me out of your life. I've tried to respect this but I realized I can't. It shatters my heart. You're the most important person in my life. The mere thought of losing you and never be able to have you in my future makes me the saddest man of the world. You may hate me, you may reject me, despise me, spit on me as long as you still allow me to be in your life. I can't even think the other way round. You're a man one can only be proud to have as a friend...or more. And I want to prove you I'm not the failure you all think I've become. I'm not renouncing to neither the kingdom...nor to you. You deserve to be cherished and I feel so, so stupid not to have jumped at the chance when you gave me your heart. I'm so sorry for disappointing you and not loving you the way you wanted and always deserved.
The other day, it broke my soul that you wouldn't even hold my hand to greet you like all your friends do with you. I want to show you that I can be your friend, too; that whenever you feel the need, I'm there to talk with you. Or even stay by your side. I know the road to your trust is long, but if only you could open your heart, even just a little, you won't be disappointed anymore, I promise. I miss not speaking the language of Shin Makoku which is our language, our special language. No one can understand it around, because it only belongs to you and me.
If you don't want to talk to me the way we used to, it's fine...still, if only there is still some communication between us, you will see I'm not lying to you. I want to get back a place in your heart, in your life. You're so, so important to me. I can't live by myself, without your presence, your laughter and your anger, any longer. I need you.
I love you.
Please, believe me.
I'm not a liar. I've been a coward...but not a liar.
I'm so, so sorry for my mistake.
Love you, love you so much, Wolfram. I miss you. Please, consider this letter. A response, even a tiny one, would be enough to know about your feelings.
I will wait for you
Yuuri.
Wolfram's hands still shook as he held the letter. The man he had loved so much reminded him why he had fallen in love at the first place. His heart swelled with contained tears. He refused to let them out; he had given too much to someone who didn't deserve it.
However, sometimes the heart's reasons were way stronger than sense. And Wolfram felt his resolution to suppress Yuuri from his life trembling upon reading each word.
His eyes closed as he felt the start of a headache. He didn't know why Yuuri wrote that he wasn't a liar.
He had never lied.
A strange feeling overwhelmed the young man. Warmth invaded his body, making him feel good for the first time in months, but at the same time, he shivered and quivered like a new born. Wrapping a plaid around himself, Wolfram folded his legs against his chest and started to think. He began hating Yuuri to a new level for making his life so miserable.
TBC
(1) Italian. "Have you finished?" "Not really. I still have three paragraphs to write. I don't remember everything I ate when I was in Paris last year."