Twenty-seven had never a particularly important number to Yuuri, until he'd became the Twenty-seventh Demon King.
He remembered thinking that twenty-seven was a good number.
Yuuri sat alone in his temporary room aboard one of Shin Makoku's flag ships.
It was almost midnight and his room was dark save for the light of one candle.
Tomorrow at noon they were going to 'bury' Conrad. Not really, (since they would be sending what remained of Conrad into the sea) but to Yuuri it was the same thing.
Tomorrow was good-bye, once and for all.
So Yuuri decided to spend the last few hours of his day saying good-bye to what remained of the man who had given him his name and had saved his life more than the number of scars on the man's left arm.
Yuuri cradled the arm in his lap and entwined the man's long fingers with his own, inspecting the bulk of Conrad's scars- which were on his hand.
He counted them again, for the last time- "One, two, three..." as he traced the scars on the man's knuckles.
These scars were shallow so they were probably caused by a miss-step, perhaps the man's blade had slipped during a training session or while carving a wooden toy for Greta.
He could easily picture Conrad in his mind, laughing the injuries off with a smile.
'It'll heal. I've suffered far worse.'
"Yeah... he'd probably say something like that." Yuuri sniffed with a sad smile.
"Eight, nine, ten..." He counted the scars on Conrad's palm- remembering one of them- a burn- he'd received while helping Yuuri control Morgif.
Yuuri remembered how painful it had looked when Conrad had first got this injury- Morgif had been so toxic to hold that it burned straight through Conrad's tough callouses and into his palms.
'It's really nothing.' He'd said, as Yuuri had fussed over the burns. 'I'm just glad you're alright.'
Yuuri remembered the man's voice in his head as he bent the almost-too-stiff fingers to enclose around his own hand.
"Thank you for always being there when I needed you most." He whispered as he traced his fingers up the man's forearm.
"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen..."
These were battle scars- small and large these probably occurred when Conrad was overwhelmed by an enemy. Instead of using his blade to stop a blow, Conrad's forearm had probably got in the way instead.
Yuuri knew Conrad's left arm held a lot more scars than his right arm, because his right arm was more important, being his dominate hand.
His left arm was used recklessly as a result- which was partly why it was laying in his lap now.
There were several deep, long cuts along Conrad's forearm and Yuuri could imagine faceless soldiers in his mind, slicing their blades through Conrad's flesh.
Conrad always insisted that the only reason he was so good at using a sword, was because when he was little, he was afraid of being cut.
Wasn't everyone?
"I'm sorry you were forced to face your fears alone. You're so brave." he sighed, carefully turned the arm around in his lap so his fingers could drift across the ones on Conrad's upper arm.
Well.. half of Conrad's upper arm.
"Twenty-four... twenty-five..."
He took a deep breath,
"T-twenty-six..."
Yuuri could tell these scars probably hurt a lot when they had first occurred.
Some looked like they were from swords- others looked like tears or deep scrapes, perhaps he'd gotten his arm caught on a sharp piece of debris or maybe he fell off a horse onto a rock.
He had a rather awful looking scar on his elbow which made Yuuri cringe as his fingers danced over it.
"Did you fall, Conrad?" He murmured, imagining the man falling without anyone there to catch him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there..."
Yuuri knew these scars probably happened long ago- perhaps even when Conrad was still a kid, but Yuuri still wished he could have been there to catch the man, like he'd caught Yuuri so many times before.
Finally, Yuuri's fingers ghosted to a stop just before torn, bloody flesh- shrunken and discolored from decay.
"Twenty-seven..." Yuuri whispered, his voice shaking, "Or it would have been twenty-seven, if I wasn't such a fuck-up." Yuuri finally broke into a sob as he cradled the arm close to his chest.
Scar (or should he say wound?) number twenty-seven's origin Yuuri had witnessed himself. He'd been frozen in fear- unable to do anything as Conrad was quickly outnumbered in a burning church.
He'd been doing fine... fending off his attackers systematically- until one of the hooded figures had tried to attack Yuuri.
Conrad had broke formation to protect him.
In return, he lost his arm... and...
Yuuri didn't want to think it- but sitting alone, cradling the cold, dead flesh of his protector he couldn't deny the truth.
Conrad had lost his arm and his life because of Yuuri.
"I'm so sorry.. Conrad-! I'm so sorry...!" the teenager sobbed, crying into the man's calloused palm.
"I miss you- so, so much and I k-know if I wasn't such a stupid king you would still be h-here.." he hic'd, using his shirt to wipe his tears.
"Please don't hate me..." he whispered, "Tomorrow they're gunna make me drop your arm into the ocean- I need to stay strong but please... don't think I'm weak if I cry-" Yuuri babbled uncontrollably, as everything he'd been thinking and feeling poured out of him.
"I wish it had been me... you know? You're a way better person than I am- you would have made a way better king and its my fault that Gwendal doesn't sleep and it's my fault that Wolfram won't smile and it's my fault Yozak drinks alone..."
Yuuri- exhausted- finally laid in bed, curling his body around the arm and resting his cheek in the palm of the man's hand.
"It's my fault you died." He said, his entire body shuddering with every breath he took.
Yuuri could hear Conrad's final words ringing in his ears:
'It's alright, Yuuri, I'd never die and leave you... all on your own...'
Conrad had been comforting him in his final moments.
Emotionally drained and overly tired, Yuuri closed his eyes. He began to drift into sleep, his heart throbbing painfully within his chest.
"Good-night, Conrad..." Yuuri murmured as he closed his eyes, unable to stop his tears as he drifted into an exhausted slumber. "Good-night..."
The sun was bright and the sky was clear the day of Conrad's funeral.
The men aboard the ship preformed a dance routine to wish Conrad's soul a safe journey to the land of the dead as they placed Conrad's arm in a sealed container and prepared to send it into the sea.
Gwendal watched Yuuri carefully throughout the ceremony.
He'd found the youth curled up with his brother's arm only a few hours ago.
If he had to be honest, it pierced his heart. Their king was heart-broken, to the point of cradling Conrart's detached arm and falling asleep with it.
It was horrifying- yet it moved the general almost to tears as he had to carefully pull the teenager off of the arm so he wouldn't wake up with it.
When Yuuri finally awoke and joined them for breakfast, (a breakfast where no-one had an appetite) he'd acted as though everything was normal- sullen, but normal.
Yuuri carefully maintained a calm composure the entire morning, however, his eyes betrayed him as they sent Conrart's arm into the ocean- tearing up as he whispered to himself, clutching the stone that hung around his neck.
Gwendal's hand landed on the young king's shoulder.
The general remembered the day Yuuri first arrived in the capitol. He and Wolfram had been skeptical of Yuuri- challenging and judging the young man.
During those times, Conrart- (who a bad king would have affected far more than he or Wolfram) believed in Yuuri from day one with all of his heart, making Gwendal feel guilty while challenging Wolfram's ideals and pride.
Now they had this amazing young man as their king- only Conrart wasn't going to be there to see Yuuri mature to his full potential.
Perhaps it was alright- Conrart had seen from the start what none of them saw in Yuuri.
He was probably smiling that cheeky smile of his somewhere, saying: 'I told you so, big brother! I was right about Yuuri- wasn't I?'
Gwendal smiled as he closed his eyes.
Yuuri looked up at Gwendal's soft, sad smile and touched the man's hand. He'd had a dream about Conrad last night.
His protector had come to him, wearing all white with a smile on his face- brushing away Yuuri's tears as if he was a child again.
'Everything is going to be O.K.' he had said in his silly, practiced, American-accent. 'I promise, so no more tears. Alright, Yuu-ri?'
Yuuri could remember every detail- the man's face, his voice... it was hard at the time to tell it was a dream.
"I think he's happy- wherever he is... Conrad's weird like that." Yuuri whispered to Gwendal and the man gave Yuuri's shoulder a squeeze.
"Yes, I think you're right." Gwendal agreed, leading Yuuri back towards the group- Wolfram, Gunter, Ken, Anissina...
His family.
Conrad had promised he wouldn't be on his own- alone- and he'd kept that promise.
Because of the man's hard work- these people cared about him and believed in him. He wasn't alone in the world, he could do this.
Even if the world felt a bit more empty than before, they could still do this- together.