KKM 'A Yuuri-less Year' Chapter 4
Thanks for your patience, lovely peoples! I'm sorry this took so very long to post--Tigersilver
Chapter Four: 'The Hand I've Been Dealt'
It was near midnight when the Great Sage arrived at the Original King's Castle, clad in his usual schoolgarb blacks and trademark glasses. Wolfram, finally recovered enough to pay heed to the quiet bustle around him, eyed Murata-san suspiciously through swollen eyes and only vaguely wondered as to why Geika was here when Yuuri was not. Yuuri was not, and that was all that mattered, really.
Murata sat on the end of Wolfram's borrowed bed with no hesitation, making himself quite at home.
"W-what?"
Wolfram's voice was thin with tears, still clogged, but there was a hint of his old impatience there. He'd never liked this Murata Ken, who spent so much time with his Yuuri…even now.
"It would've worked, you know, if you waited just a little longer," the Great Sage smiled blandly and nodded his head, glasses glinting in a very familiar way.
"W-what? What would've worked, you—you Sage?"
The blonde sat up in a hurry, clutching a sodden pillow before him. He frowned furiously, white brow wrinkling, temper visibly beginning to seep into his weary bones, and glared at his unwelcome visitor, his little-boy-lost mien morphing quite definitely into Shin Makoku's regal 28th Maou.
"Explain, Murata-san, if you please."
Murata's smile grew, curving mischievously along the edges, and his eyes widened behind the lenses that hid them.
"I'm just saying that if you'd waited a little longer, Heika, it would've worked. You would have passed through the Portal. But Shibuya's still figuring stuff out, so of course it didn't. You have to be patient, you know. That wasn't the right time."
There was a brief silence while narrowed green eyes grew round and Murata smiled calmly, as always.
"When?"
Wolfram skipped over any need for explanation – he was sharp as a tack when it came to his fiancé – and got right to the meat of the matter.
"Oh, well, I think it'll be soon," the Sage shrugged. "But I can't tell you exactly when—"
"What can I do?!"
Wolfram sat forward, soldier's hands clenched in his lap, all traces of tears gone. The gears of his ready mind whirred furiously: if it was the Reflecting Pool that was needed, then he could stay here and call Greta to him—if Yuuri was really coming back to Shin Makoku, Wolf needed to return to Blood Pledge immediately—if he could see him again--!
"How can I make it happen sooner, Murata-san? Tell me!"
"Wait," the Great Sage smirked, his manner almost catty, his dark eyes mere slits behind the lenses. "Wait some more, after that. Shibuya's noticeably slow, you see, so you'll likely be waiting a while."
"Here?" Wolfram flung out a hand to indicate the castle around him. The Sage was being downright insolent, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Yuuri.
Murata shook his dark, shiny head and shrugged his shoulders in a vague motion, which would have annoyed a normal Wolfram no end. Now, the 28th Maou only waited patiently for an answer, his lean body coiled tense in the mussed bed.
"Nope, doesn't matter where," Murata told him, casually lounging back on one hand. He waved the other in the air and then settled his glasses again.
"Here's good or Blood Pledge Castle or wherever you're most comfortable, Heika. You may return to von Bielefeld if that's better for you and the Princess. There's water, water everywhere, so plopping yourself down by one bit of water isn't going to make a lot of difference to where or when—not in the long run."
Wolfram clasped his hands again, regarding his fingers with great intensity and clamping his full, rosy mouth in a thin line, apparently stopping himself from asking 'how long?' or 'when?' yet again. The Sage wasn't planning on telling, it seemed.
"You can think about a few things while you wait, though, 'Yuuri's fiancé'." All traces of any amusement were vanished from Murata's easy tenor; he was grave, and quite possibly dangerous with it.
The blonde head came up sharply and emerald eyes stared piercingly at the shield of the glasses. Wolfram raised an enquiring eyebrow, waiting.
"Like how you'll behave when he's back again and whether your previous attempts were successful. You're a smart guy, Heika; you can figure it out."
Wolfram's shoulders went rigid at the insult and Murata Ken thought for a brief moment his companion had managed to break a few of those aristocratic fingers, so tightly were they overlapped and laced together. But the 28th Maou said nothing, only nodding his acceptance after the slightest of pauses.
Perhaps it wasn't truly an insult, but advice, instead. The Great Sage was indeed a mysterious man.
"….And you can consider what he'll need from you when he returns, what things he'll ask of you," Murata went on, his voice quiet in the hushed confines of the Maou's chamber. "This is a new world, is it not? No war, no Boxes, no Shinou behind the scenes, orchestrating all of you—all of us. Things are very different now. Your role will be different, Lord von Bielefeld. The way you protect him and care for him will be different, too. Think about that, 'Yuuri's fiancé.'"
The Sage stood up abruptly, shoving his glasses back up his short nose, and the 28th Maou regarded him soberly before nodding sharply a second time.
"I will."
It was a blood-promise, that. A blade of fealty flung high in honour of a much-beloved Demon King no one had ever wanted to see departed, and by no means the least of those loyal-to-the-death demons who so ardently wished Shibuya Yuuri back again was the previous Maou's cruelly abandoned 'accidental' fiancé.
The Sage grinned at the terribly handsome young man in the bed before him, for once without the slightest hint of guile in his snapping black eyes, well satisfied at last that Wolfram von Bielefeld remained his same, steadfast self—true to Shibuya to his very last breath, and not in any way grasping after the enormous power bestowed by his current, albeit temporary, title of Maou.
In truth, Wolfram von Bielefeld, the person, was much thinner and grimmer than Murata remembered him, the notable eyes far too large in a pale face gone bony with careless nutrition. His had been a healthy, shining bishounen handsomeness, a true 'pretty boy' by the definition of Murata's homeland, but now von Bielefeld was almost ethereal—or perhaps the better descriptive was 'gaunt', whittled away by time's passing. An Ice Prince, Wolfram was, enspelled by a wicked cruel sorcerer called Chance.
But, still, Lord von Bielefeld was capable, intelligent and compassionate–both Gwendal and Gunter had been quite eager to regale Ken with the decisive actions the reluctant 28th Maou had taken in Shibuya's absence, every one of them pointed towards the goal of a lasting peace. The fiery young demon had the makings of an excellent Consort, the Sage recalled—or perhaps he'd foretold that already. He would indeed be that, Murata decided, judging by his cool, determined reaction to Ken's news, and due to that undying, unchanging faith in Shibuya Yuuri, von Bielefeld might quite possibly end up the greatest co-Ruler ever recorded in Shin Makoku's long history.
The Sage, however, impudently elected to keep that particular tidbit to himself for the moment. No need to spoil all the fun by spilling the beans too early—there was still quite a lot of entertainment value to be had of this situation.
"Then I'll be going," Murata announced, his business done, and successfully. "I've got a meeting tomorrow, one I can't miss. So, hey—take care of yourself, 'Yuuri's fiancé', okay? The Maou will be depending on you."
Murata turned once more at the door, glancing behind him solely for Shibuya's sake to ensure the blonde's pale colour had improved with his visit (it had) and there was life again in those amazing eyes of his (oh, yes), and then nodded in polite parting at Shibuya's fated (and chosen) ball-and-chain.
He nodded another casual farewell to Ulrike's stolid guards at the door on his way out, quite eager to return to the company of the remaining Maidens, who were likely cavorting half-dressed by the now-deserted reflecting pool, performing sacred rites. Oh, how he'd missed the girls these last boring weeks on Earth! Nothing, but nothing could beat a Shrine Maiden performing rites on a night holy to the spirit of the Great Shinou! Especially ones garbed solely in see-through wet white robes and skimpy pink panties!
"…Thank you."
Half-heard as the door shut behind Murata, soft as a whisper, but still sincere and somewhat humbled, Wolfram von Bielefeld called after the Sage at the very last moment—and meant his thanks with all his urgent young heart. He'd be waiting, Murata knew, the fool, probably camped out daily by Blood Pledge's fountain, totally riled up and ready to go the moment poor Shibuya hit the water.
But Shibuya would definitely be happy to hear he was so devotedly remembered by the idiot blond fire wielder, Murata concluded, tapping down the empty stone corridor in his regulation school loafers, the required footwear of this era's Sage. Pity he couldn't let Yuuri know von Bielefeld's reaction right away. But maybe later—quite a lot later, actually, perhaps when the dust had settled after the great wind of the 27th Maou's momentous return.
Time enough, now, not to hurry matters along anymore than they already were. Time enough for many, many interesting things to transpire—and enough Mazoku magic abounding to perhaps grant even a poor overworked Sage a wish of his own. It was, after all, a night sacred to the royal spirit of the Great Shinou himself—a night on which the man was said to often appear in the flesh.
Murata Ken shivered ever so slightly, his breath half-hitched in his throat—in anticipation.
End
NB: A few of you have mentioned that this is a 'prequel' of sorts to 'Kiss & Tell'. You are exactly right! It is, and it's paired with my Yuuri-POV fic 'Absence': two different versions of the time they spent apart, set right after Yuuri choose Earth at the end of the second season.
Time runs faster on Earth than it does in Shin Makoku, which is why Wolfram suffered through a year and Yuuri only had approximately 8 weeks or so on his end. When he returns, through a different path of water, the events of 'Kiss & Tell' start fairly shortly thereafter—within six months or so, and by that time, Yuuri's turned seventeen and is starting to look a little more like his Great Maou alter-ego. He gains some confidence, too, along with his good looks and stellar abs, which helps a bit. Wolfram, on the other hand, has lost his utter arrogant certainty concerning the promised marriage, and that leads to any number of angsty and hopefully amusing hijinks.
Thanks to you all for sticking with me through all these many, many words. I hope I've built an AU you'll enjoy 'ever after'.
Ta, Tiger
