Chapter 4: Day 5

Shinou stood in the temple with his face reflected in the water, watching Murata through the reflection. The boy crossed his arms, looking slightly frustrated, which made the original king smirk. His eyes flickered up for a moment before peering downward again.

"So what was it you wanted to ask me?" Shinou grinned wickedly. "Or is this just a social visit?"

Murata narrowed his eyes. "Yuuri is really worried about Wolfram….I suppose I was hoping you could do a 'check' on him, if you will. If he's alright, then we can move on to things more important: like the illness."

"Do you think that I have not done this already?" Then Shinou stared at Murata carefully, brining his hand up to lay it down on the fur of his coat. "I checked on him already. If I am not mistaken, he should be arriving at his uncle's any minute now."

For some reason, Murata felt suspicious. "And why would you have checked that beforehand? He only left two days ago….There was no call for alarm."

"I sense something foul." Shinou muttered. "And it has muddied the water."

That was a definite cause for alarm. If something was powerful enough to even scorn Shinou, then it was not something they should play around with lightly. Shinou, however, seemed to regard the whole situation with a hint of amusement. 'It can't be too serious, can it?' he thought. 'And if Wolfram's safe, then…..'

"Are you sure that Wolfram is fine?"

"I did not say he was 'fine.'" replied Shinou, continuing to stare at Murata with frightening intensity. Murata fidgeted and fixed his glasses underneath the original king's powerful stare. "But he will arrive at his uncle's, as promised. I believe that there is something mentally wrong with the boy. I can sense his despair quite clearly…."

"Why?"

"Sometimes the past can be quite a burden." Shinou said simply. "Let's just leave it at that, shall we? Now, assuming that you still want to make dinner at the castle, I shall bid you leave."

The original king disappeared, leaving Murata standing all alone. Though Shinou had assured him that Wolfram was reaching his uncle's, he couldn't ignore the funny feeling in his stomach. 'Something has muddied the waters?' Maybe this wasn't the best time for Shibuya's parents to be arriving, considering that more and more hints of danger kept resurfacing.

Nevertheless, when he left the temple in search of Shibuya, at least he knew that he would have some good news. He walked quietly passed the maids, who giggled and waved at him. He smiled back, but deep down, his heart wasn't in it. Instead he bypassed as many as possible, knocking on Yuuri's door more quietly than he usually would have.

"Come in!"

Murata entered the room to see Yuuri hunched over the desk, writing and rewriting the letter that he was supposed to be sending to Wolfram. This was a process that he had kept up from the time he got home from the village, but he just couldn't get the idea right. Though Murata couldn't see what all the fuss was about, figuring that if he wanted Wolfram back so badly then he might as well be honest about it, but the young king seemed to be against that idea too.

"Ah!" Yuuri smiled when Murata entered the room. "What do you think about this!?"

Wolfram

It has come to my attention that you have left several important things amiss when you left Blood Pledge Castle, and I would like you to return to your duties immediately; furthermore, your troops have not been training as hard as they should, meaning that we need your expertise to advise them. Your troops should be your first priority, not your uncle's.

Sincerely,

Yuuri Shibuya

Murata read the letter with a grim smile on his face, Yuuri looking excited and energetic as he showed him the draft. The other three the sage had read as well, shooting them down one by one. They all seemed painfully formal, as if he was trying to get a politician to support his cause and not merely attempting to get his friend to come home.

"Shibuya," said Murata, handing him the letter back. "I believe that you are making this much too difficult on yourself…If you want him back, all you have to do is write that…"

Yuuri's smile faded several molars. "Does that mean it's no good?"

Drawing up a chair, he sat next to him, grabbing a piece of paper and scribing:

Wolfram

I miss you. Please come back.

Your loving fiancé,

Yuuri

"WHAT!?" Yuuri cried. "I can't send that! I'll never hear the end of it."

"But that's what you want to say, right?"

There was a moment when Yuuri turned bright red, picking up the piece of paper that Murata had written on, crumbling it into a small ball. That made the sage smirk, but he refrained from comment, deciding that he had spurred the king on enough today. 'Probably not good to push too much too soon.'

"Look, Shibuya." he said quietly. "Wolfram cares about you…Maybe you don't have to be so direct in your message, but he wants to know that you at least worry about him a little….Even as a friend….I think if you stop trying to make your letter sound like a political document, it will have more affect. Plus, you insulted his pride at least three times in that one paragraph letter."

"Do you really think that?"

Murata raised an eyebrow. "Would I have told you if I didn't?"

"No…"

Then Yuuri gave a nod of affirmation, taking a new piece of paper and starting anew. Murata stood up, forgetting the initial message, deciding that he would leave out the 'muddying of the water' part of his translation. If something happened, then they would worry about it then.

"Shinou has informed me that Wolfram has probably reached his destination by now." Murata said, fixing his glasses and staring worriedly out the window. "So probably once you finish the letter, you should be good to send…That way it doesn't get there before he does."

"So he's safe!?" Yuuri looked relieved.

"Apparently."

Though this seemed to relieve Yuuri, he exited the room still deep in thought. This, in comparison with the disease, was serious, even if everyone here didn't realize it. 'The illness spreads fast. It took down a great amount of our numbers once, and it could easily do it again if we're not careful…But it seems that nobody here is really that worried about it.'

He left the room, nearly bumping into Yozak on the way out.

"Problems?" Yozak asked.

"You have no idea…."

They smiled, departing ways in good humor.

Wolfram arrived at his destination, shaking and wet with sweat. Riding had never made him feel this winded before, but then, he head never been this ill either. Twice he nearly collapsed on the roadway, allowing unconsciousness to overcome him. The one time he stopped, he had woken up again far later than he had meant to.

On the boat ride over, he had not talked to anyone, instead pretending to be a mute in every sense of the word. Even when the attractive young captain came to chat him up, he refrained from throwing him headfirst into the water. 'It's funny…' he thought, shaking himself off as he stared at the building looming in the distance. 'The world looks so much more different when you feel like you're going to die…'

He paused his horse, stopping to remove the animal's bridle and saddle, leaving it on the side of the road where it was clearly visible. That way at least somebody, somewhere, could put it to good use. First, of course, he double checked that he hadn't splatter blood anywhere, though he thought it was unlikely that they would catch his illness, since they would have to actually lick the blood off for them to grow ill.

The horse snorted in confusion, staring at him with big brown eyes. Wolfram had raised the horse since it was a foal, and they had always had a great bond, much more like friends than a horse and rider. That was why he had to do this now. Probably, if anyone found out that a victim of Death of Heart disease had been the owner, they would kill the gelding on sight.

"You're free now." he said to the horse softly, touching its silky, well-groomed neck. "GO!"

But the horse refused to move, staring at him with big, sad eyes as if it knew what to expect. Then again, his animal was not stupid, and maybe it could guess that it would never see its owner again.

In a wail of pain and anguish, he slapped the horse across its hindquarters, sending it roaring off a few feet before turning around and galloping back. It then continued to muzzle his coat, as if hoping that there was a carrot hidden in his sleeve. Wolfram merely shook his head, cursing his love for the animal one last time. He would not allow it to die.

Slowly he turned around, heading towards the village and pretending that there was not a horse following close behind him. Everyone giggled, but he hid his face, knowing the last thing he needed was attention when he entered the clinic. After that, everybody would see him as a sort of contagious monster, not a person that had a very trusting pet horse.

When he came inside, noting that the horse was still standing at the front of the office, he turned to the woman that was sitting at the desk. She had on heavy rubber gloves and a mask, her eyes dragging upward to stare Wolfram in the face. She did not ask the usual 'can I help you?' spew, but instead seemed deafly surprised to see someone of such high standing in her view point, as if royalty could not contract deadly diseases.

"This is the office for Cardidenturiatus." she said. "I think you must be in the wrong place."

Wolfram turned around and lifted his hair up, showing her the red heart that was clearly visible beneath his blonde, golden mane. She immediately sucked in air, writing something on the pad in front of her, quickly standing up. 'I knew it…' he thought. Apart of him had hoped that he had been wrong, that it wasn't what he thought. But he had been right all along.

"The healer's in back.' she said softly. "Come, follow me."

The woman seemed hesitant to be in the three foot radius with him, as if she feared that he might throw up blood all over her tiny desk. He allowed himself to be led to the backroom, noting how the white on white furnishings seemed to make him more nervous.

Just as he turned to go inside, the woman said softly, "I'm so sorry." before turned around to leave.

'I wonder how much they're paying that woman for this.' he wondered, before stepping inside the healer's room. He was instantly surprised at how ordinary the whole area seemed. It was just like any other med ward with a white bed and lots of medication, but it had such a heavy feel to it, as if even the air could tell what was going to happen to the people that stepped inside.

A woman stood up. She had brown hair that fell to her shoulders, and she was painfully thin, looking as though someone had smeared skin over a human skeleton. Wolfram sucked in air for a moment, then nodded and extended his hand. The woman, surprisingly, shook it, but her limbs were covered heavily in thick rubber gloves.

"So," she said. "You believe you have Cardidenturiatus?"

"I have spots all over my body, and I have most of the lesser known symptoms as well."

The woman nodded. "What's your name?"

"Lord Wolfram von Bielefield."

Just like the woman at the front desk, she seemed to pause longer than necessary at the name. He wondered whether she was going to escort him out, since some humans had a hated of Mazoku, especially those that were royalty. But the woman watched him carefully for a moment, obviously deeming him worthy of being kept in a cell to rot and die.

"Show me."

A half an hour later, the woman had pinched, prodded, and probed every inch of his body, making him feel slightly vulnerable. She made a mark on her pad, nodding at him finally, showing that he could redress himself. He pulled his clothes all on, flushing like a school girl confronted with a crush.

"It is as you feared, I'm afraid." Her voice sounded heavy and empty, as if she had given the news a billion times. "You have Death of Heart disease."

He stared at his feet.

"I will book you a room."

For a moment the healer left, leaving him to deal with his feelings. He looked into the ceiling, blinking away the burning he told himself came with the disease. But he, deep down, knew that this wasn't the case. His poor, demented heart was thudding in his chest a thousand miles per hour, his mind wishing that the doctor would rush in and cry "just kidding," as if it had all been some kind of bad joke.

"You're in thirty-six." the healer said, coming back in. "Are those your things?"

At her side were two large men, each of them looking a bit like thugs.

"Yes."

"Unfortunately," she said carefully. "For the sake of everyone else, we believe that it is our duty to remove all contaminated objects. They will have to be burned."

A squeak left his throat, watching them take his bag away. Dangling out the top like a Christmas ornament was the sleeve of his pink, frilly night gown, waggling in the breeze as the door opened as if it was waving him goodbye. He put his hand to his face, half wanting to fight it, when he realized that was what the two thugs were there for.

"You must remove all weapons and sharp objects." said the woman again. "And/or including pens, pencils, or even silver rimmed boots."

"Why!?" Giving up his sword was painful.

"You will try to kill yourself by the time this is over, Lord Von Bielefield." The healer made a motion towards the two men at her side. "And it you don't, somebody else will…It isn't like we enjoy this, so please, make this easy. We will fight you if we have too."

Realizing that they were right, he put the sword on the table. He was going to die anyway, so he figured that he wouldn't have a real use for it. Within a week his body would be so drained that he would be unable to move, and even his sword would not be able to fight away this problem.

"Thank you." The healer looked relieved.

Then she promptly took him to the shower room, and he was washed head to toe in soap that was so strong that it made his skin fleck. It also smelled heavily of ammonia. He wrinkled his nose, scrubbing the best he could, feeling slightly self-conscious because he knew that three people were waiting for him on the outside.

He looked around, realizing that there were not even windows, as if he might try to jump out of the room and escape the containment. But he knew that it was too late with the first step inside he took, so he kept his mouth shut, doing everything they asked.

But then, one of the thugs came inside to collect his clothes while his back was turned. Wolfram rushed up to the large, three hundred pound man, tightening his tough, low class towel around his waist. He grabbed at his coat, ripping it from the man's fat, stubby sausage fingers, glaring at him.

"Not that." he said.

The healer returned. He flushed, trying to cover himself up. It was not proper for a woman to see him so naked, especially when he was--well, had been before this--engaged.

"You can't take your clothes with you." the healer said, looking sullen. "We will outfit you with proper med room garments."

"It's not that…."

He burrowed his hand in his pockets, pulling out the green gem stone. Once again, it was warm, though it had to have been off of his body for at least a half an hour. His fingers grasped it, eyeing them all as if they might suddenly rip his skin off, knowing that he would use his powers if they tried to take the necklace away. It was too precious to him now.

The two thugs looked at the doctor, who gave a sigh and nodded. "Very well…You can keep that, but that will be all, alright?"

Wolfram nodded.

But then all three of them looked at him with threatening eyes again, and he took a step back against the wall. The woman nodded at the two thugs at her side, who quickly approached and grabbed each one of Wolfram's arms. He instantly tried to fight them, confused, wondering what they were doing.

The woman looked cold. "We will have to remove your fingernails and toenails, Lord von Bielefield. We can not have you scratching your face off like some of the other patients."

They held him down, though the woman medicated him to help him avoid some of the pain, but even then his screams echoed down the halls of the tiny office.

Yuuri sat at his desk, holding up the letter with triumph in his eyes. So what if his family was coming in a few mere minutes!? He was finished, at long last, with the letter.

Wolfram

We're all really worried about you, especially Greta. I know that your uncle needs you, but we need you around too. I think I know what this is about, and if you come back, we can talk it out together. Please don't fight it anymore.

Your good friend,

Yuuri

'Much better,' he thought triumphantly, holding it in the air as if it was a prized jewel that he had been searching for ages to find. 'Not gushy, but at the same time perfectly caring…friendship but not relationship….' He smiled to himself, folding it in his pocket, leaving the room to go find Gwendal. He had a large supply of carrier swallows, and he would certainly lend him one to get the note to Wolfram.

Conrad was waiting for him once he left his room, a smile on his face. "You look happier, Heika."

"First off," he said cheerfully, "It's Yuuri!"

"Yes." Conrad smiled.

"And secondly," he tweeted joyfully, "I have just finished the perfect letter to Wolfram! He's bound to come back to us now, no matter how upset he is."

The two of them trotted down to Gwendal's office, Yuuri so enthused that he barged in without knocking. The man quickly dropped the doll he had been making, staring at Yuuri as if he was a child menace. That didn't bother him as much as it usually would have, and he plopped the letter straight on the man's desk.

"This is for Wolfram!" he chirped.

"Ah." Gwendal nodded. "I'll send it immediately, but…."

"But, what?" Yuuri blinked.

"Weren't you supposed to go meet your parents a half an hour ago!?"His eyes dropped to his wrist watch, but then he realized that it didn't work in this world, and he nodded his head before streaking out of the room in blind panic. By the time he reached the square, a soaking wet Murata was waiting for him, along with Miko, Shori, and Shoma Shibuya, all looking a little bit unnerved by the manner of their arrival.

"Sorry, I'm late." Yuuri cried, screeching to a stop. "I was finishing a letter."

But that all didn't seem to matter now, because his mother gave a loud squeal, looking around the grounds with an enticing eye. Yuuri took a step back, but Jennifer flung herself at him anyway, sloshing water down the front of his clothes. 'Ah, well.' he thought. 'At least that doesn't mean that she's too mad that I made her wait.'

Conrad appeared behind him, smiling slightly at Jennifer, receiving an over affectionate, wet hug for his trouble too. He seemed unfazed by it, as if this was normal behavior for anyone, and smiled warmly at Shoma who was now looking at Conrad as if he had just French kissed his wife. Yuuri scratched his head nervously, smiling at them.

"So," Jennifer looked around. "Where's Wolfram?"

They all looked at each other.

"He's with his uncle."

Jennifer looked highly disappointed.

Murata grinned wickedly. "But Shibuya just sent him a letter. Certainly when Wolfram sees it, he'll come rushing back….Right, Shibuya?"

Yuuri flushed. "Well, I guess so."

"I hope you had a zillion nice things to say to him." Jennifer chirped, giving him an affectionate squeeze. "Right, Yuuri?"

Shori stood off to the side looking grumpy.