Author's Note:
You guys must be wondering why I update so fast—haha, I'm not really waiting for reviews anymore. This story's plotline has been in my head for a little more than three weeks. And I just wanted to share it with you guys. Adding to that, school's going to start in two weeks, so I'm writing as much as I can and updating as much before work takes all my free time.

Anyway, thank you so much for those who have reviewed. I am very happy and I feel very welcomed in the Kyou Kara Maou fandom.

Warnings and Notes:
- Possibilities of wrong grammar and misspelled words—please point it out, if ever.

- I will be addressing the Earth Wolfram by his Earth name.


"Wolfram?"

"…excuse me?" The blond boy frowned, his brows furrowed—an obvious sign of annoyance.

"Wolfram is that you?" Yuuri gasped as he stood in shock. Both the king's hands reached out nervously for the latter lad's shoulders. "No way… is that really you?" Black eyes traveled upon the one he called Wolfram—realizing that the blond was wearing modern day clothes… merely simple ensembles of faded jeans, a shirt over a long-sleeved one and sneakers. Yet either way, the boy before him looked like Wolfram and whatever Wolfram wore, he still looked ever so great.

The one called 'Wolfram' growled—swatting Yuuri's hands off of him. "What are you? A pervert?!"

To that gesture, Yuuri's eyes widened his mouth parted as if it tried to pull the right things to say. But there was none as such. The only words that emitted from his awe-struck mouth were, "Wolfram! It's me! Don't you remember me?"

Apparently, he did not. "I am not Wolfram. My name's very far from it." The blond snorted as he crossed his arms and legs. "And if ever I was Wolfram, I doubt I'd recall meeting you. You don't seem to be worth remembering."

Chapter 2: In Your Name

"Don't seem to be worth remembering, he says!" The eighteen year old monarchy leader mocked in agitation as he walked the premises of the university. "Who the hell does he think he is?!" He screamed amidst the noisy hall, where every student seemed to have gathered. "Fuck him!"

His angry steps soon grew into stomps all the while he browsed through the information paper that he had obtained earlier from the register counter. His backpack hung loosely over his shoulder, shaking with every movement that the king made—thus, it moved a lot. For the first time in a year, he was very annoyed. With a Wolfram-look alike, nonetheless.

"ARGH!" The black teen screamed, stopping in the middle of the hall. And once again earned himself the eyes of many.

A chuckle resounded from the corner. "Aren't you lively?" Murata grinned, stepping a couple of steps closer to his friend. "Oh, you got Peace Studies too? We'll be seeing each other then."

"We'll be seeing each other a whole lot, Murata. We have the same course." Yuuri grunted with every stomp as he let the other take the information sheet from his hand, allowing the sage to compare their schedules.

Said sage sighed. "No, not really. Our subject schedules barely meet. Peace Studies is the only schedule we got. And maybe lunch."

"Whoopie-doo…" Yuuri breathed.

"You know, Shibuya…" Murata started, keeping up with the king's pace. "From the looks of things, I'd say you've met with Midori already."

"Who's he?" Was the king's quick response as he tried to search for his first class. What's with this huge campus?!

"Ran Midori," Murata said as his eyes became barely visible from his glasses—a signal of animosity was soon emitted from his aura. "The kid that looks like Lord von Beilefeld."

At those words, Yuuri Shibuya stopped and turned towards his friend with complete disbelief. His eyes, bigger than before. His lips opened into a small 'o'.

"You know him?" He asked as his brows knitted together, "You know him and you didn't tell me?!"

The sage soon came into a silent halt as he adjusted his glasses, once again resting it on his nose perfectly. His lips stretched into a smirk. "I was shocked myself, when I saw him at the register counter—his voice sounded exactly like Wolfram's. And he was snobbish too."

"Did you stare at him? Did he catch you? What did he say?!" Yuuri urged on, holding onto his companion's shoulder, shaking the latter with the said gesture. "Well? Murata?! Wait… he goes to school here?! Shinou had something to do with this, doesn't he?"

"One, no. I didn't stare. I looked..." Black met with black. "Two, he didn't seem to know that I was looking at him… if he did, which leads us to number three, he said nothing and brushed me off like I'm below him. Four, yes. We're all college-mates." Murata made a quick pause as he took his gaze and looked to the path before them, seeing that the students were starting to clear the hall. "And as for Shinou, he never told me anything if ever he did plan on doing something. I'll see when we get back."

Silence soon came to reign over the two boys as Yuuri reluctantly let go of his friend's shoulders, deciding to brush one of his earlier freed hands through his head. It was a desperate attempt to calm his self down before he enters the lecture hall. He sighed, closing his eyes—there was too much stress and it was not even past noon yet. Nor had his first subject began.

For the second time, the king sighed.

"So, how was your encounter?" Murata asked. "I assume your meeting didn't go well. What'd he say?"

"Something Wolfram would have said."

-.-.-

You two are tied tightly to one another, Shibuya.

The sage openly declared with a soft chuckle a couple of minutes before they parted for their own classes. And Murata, being the Great Sage, had always been correct in more ways than one. But to Yuuri, meeting a certain blond's look alike was nothing more but a sign from beyond the grave. To him, Wolfram haunted him for revenge of some sort—something like a punishment for not being able to apologize.

Yuuri shook his head, trying to drown out all stressful dispositions as he stepped into the lecture hall, wearing a carefree smile—one that had lost a bit of life for as long as the king and his people remembered.

Youthful voices filled the room; students were talking with one another—some of them even tried to befriend each other. In fact, they were already close enough to be seated together, thus occupying rows and rows of seats. It was as if there was no spot left for the eighteen year old monarch.

"…did I really take that long?" The boy mumbled to himself as he scanned the area for any vacancy—only to find one beside the very least person he wanted to see. "Someone hates me up there…" And with a gulp, Yuuri moved towards the empty space. Here goes everything.

His heart pounded fast and hard, as if it were to burst out of his chest. His eyes looked solely towards the blond whose attention seemed to be focused onto the book that he held within his hands. Yuuri, the boy who became king and the boy who saved New Makoku, found himself fearful of the Wolfram-look alike, also known by the name Ran Midori, as he took cautious little steps closer to the boy.

"Uh, hi…" The raven teen smiled nervously, finally reaching his destination. "I know we didn't really have a great start during the train… thing…" The lad trailed on, even with the knowledge that the latter was not listening. "So, uh… I'm Yuuri Shibuya—"

"—Are you gonna sit down or not?" The one named Ran butted in as he threw the young king a reminiscent glare.

Geez. "Aha… yeah, err… thanks." At that, Yuuri settled into his seat.

"Just stay out of my way, Pervert."

"I'm not a pervert!" Someone up there definitely hates me.

"You're right, you're not." The other smirked, turning his head back onto the material he was earlier engrossed in. "From you're whining, I'd say you're nothing but a wimp."

Right then and there, for a brief moment, Yuuri felt his ex-fiancé's presence radiating more than ever from the blond beside him. His dark orbs widened as he buried his sights to the aforementioned teen. Why here? Why now…? Why—

"Wolf—"

"—Ran. Ran Midori."

"E—eh?"

"To save me the embarrassment, call me by my name." Ran easily replied with a light snort, not even casting a short glance towards his seatmate. "Or better yet, call me Sir Midori."

Taken aback, Yuuri could only wear a smile as he leaned back onto the back rest—not really caring about the fact that it was hard or cold. Or that it was not even near the comforts of the palace chairs. The king was glad to have, in a way, met a new friend (that looked just like a certain prince.)

"Oh, Ran?"

No reply came.

"Midori?"

Once again, there came nothing. Yuuri rolled his eyes.

"Sir Midori?"

"What?" Ran finally spoke in an annoyed tone as he flipped his book to the next page.

"I'm not a wimp."

"Right," The blond taunted, eyeing the double black from the corner his own eyes. A menacing grin graced his charming face. "And I'm a prince from a magical land."

Well then, maybe you are! "…I am not and never a wimp!"

To Be Continued


Author's Note:
Midori Ran - Green Orchid. Sorry for the lack of "action", I just wanted to portray what might have been their relationship on their first meeting without being engaged. Though I think there would have been a little more fighting.