I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh!, nor do I make any profit from its use…I only own the love I have for its characters, its warmth and wit and the hidden truths and gentle wisdom its author has woven throughout the storyline…oh, and 'Ali'…

Chapter 10 "Bunts, Balks and Players' Grievances"

So, all the 'minor league players' have assembled; now we only have to wait for the 'major league players'…minus one, to arrive. The odd thought bounced unchecked through Ken Murata's mind, as his eyes continued to observe the other occupants in the room. 'People-watching' was one of his favorite pastimes, and under different circumstances, the miniature 'dramas' that were playing out in front of the bespectacled youth would have been a cause for dark amusement. However, as he had already made perfectly clear to a certain blond-haired 'annoyance', the former Daikenja found nothing humorous about this situation; sardonic or otherwise. He frowned as his gaze shifted back-and-forth between the two groups that had formed. Von Christ Gunter Kyo was sitting in an antique wingback, with Yosak standing slightly behind him and to his right; blue eyes blazing and tight-lipped, he was more serious than Murata could ever remember seeing the half-Mazoku. The spy was definitely not happy, that much was clearly apparent – as to why, the double-black had overheard (he was not eavesdropping, he really wasn't) part of an earlier discussion between the two that had become rather heated – Yosak insisting that the Adjutant should tell the General what had happened before the meeting started, and the silver-haired Mazoku replying that he would speak to him, but not until after – Von Christ had made his point by stating that he had known Von Voltaire for far longer than anyone else at Blood Pledge (barring Lady Anissina, of course, whom he had grown up with) – and that he knew that the indigo-eyed male was already angry at Conrart and he wanted to add no more fuel to the fire that was, at the moment, holding at a slow-burn. He'd had occasion to see what damage could be done when that tightly-controlled temper exploded – it had happened only once since they had become acquainted; and it was something, he'd said, that he never wanted to see again. If it occurred, he had assured the orange-haired male, it would make the eruption of the volcano on Vandavia Island that had 'transformed' Morgif look mild in comparison.

On the other side of the room, said General was trying to deal with an also-decidedly unhappy younger brother whose fiery temper was almost legendary, known to be easily ignited and had a habit of exploding on a fairly regular basis – which made his current behavior rather remarkable. Von Bielefeld Wolfram Kyo was angry, and had been in an intense 'discussion' with his eldest brother almost as soon as the male had walked through the door, but he had kept his voice down and (as of yet) nothing in the surrounding area had been burnt or even slightly singed. It didn't take a genius IQ to figure out that a lot of the blond's anger stemmed from the fact that he had been 'forced' to attend the meeting, and was unable to stay by Shibuya's side. The watching youth understood the sentiment, he really did; but it was something that couldn't be helped. He'd had a sneaking suspicion for some time now of what they might be up against (though as to who would do such a thing, or the reason behind it, he had no clue) – but when he'd made the request that the youngest of Lady Celi's sons attend, he still hadn't been able to explain why he wanted him there, or the reason why he hadn't wanted the Demon King to be present. The Great Sage knew the reasoning behind his actions would become glaringly apparent if his 'theory' turned out to be true; what had happened to Von Christ Kyo earlier in the day had only served to further solidify his belief as to what they were facing – now all he needed was the proof.

Glancing over at the side table, his dark eyes found the small container of 'holy' water that he'd hidden behind a lush, potted plant. Scanning to make sure that the maryoku seal was still in place, he couldn't help the smirk that settled on his lips at the very idea. 'Holy' water my ass…as if anything about Shinou was ever 'holy'…

The crooked direction that his thoughts were taking was interrupted by a loud, nervous knock; it drew everyone else's attention, as well, and four other sets of eyes pinned harsh gazes upon the heavy wooden door along with his own. It was opened by a slightly flustered-looking Dacascos who, hand-on-knob, followed it until it was flush against the wall before turning and heralding the arrival of the long-awaited 'Guests-of-Honor'…

"Announcing Weller Conrart Kyo and Lady Alexandria Estelle Taggert…"

~oOo~

Greta couldn't help giggling.

She had been sitting quietly, watching and waiting for Yuuri to awaken, hoping that the smell of food would do it so that she wouldn't have to. Today must be her lucky day, she'd decided; nose twitching, Yuuri had begun to move, and then to yawn and stretch, and that's when the snickering began – he reminded her (with his dark hair and matching dark clothes) of a skinny black cat just waking up from a long nap. Big brown eyes filled with mirth, the nearly eleven year-old continued to stare at her adoptive father until a soft smile worked its way onto his face and one heavy-lidded eye slid open to stare sleepily back at her.

"What's so funny?"

"You are." She answered, giggling again. "Are you hungry, Yuuri?" She laughed when his stomach growled before he could say anything, and twisted around to bring the food cart closer to the bedside.

Reddening, he laughed, as well. "I guess I am." Sitting up, the young Monarch rubbed at his eyes, and then looked around, his face scrunching up in mild confusion. "Where's Wolfram, Greta? I thought he was eating with us?"

Facing away from him as she placed thick slices of buttered bread on two of the three plates that held covered bowls of stew, she shrugged. "He was going to, but he got called away."

"Called away?" Scooting over to the side of the bed, the double-black reached for one of the plates, removing the cover and taking the spork that his daughter offered. As the heady aroma of the stew wafted past his nose, he found his mouth watering and his stomach rumbling, yet again – he really shouldn't have been surprised, with as little as he had eaten in the last few days.

Setting her plate on the bed, Greta munched on her slice of bread and nodded. "Some kind of meeting, I think…" Looking up at him, she almost choked as she tried to swallow around another giggle. Yuuri was sitting, head cocked, his hair sticking up at all odd angles and his dark eyes wide, a dripping spork held halfway to his open mouth as he contemplated what he was being told.

She couldn't help it. She really couldn't.

Sometimes her Papa Yuuri was just too adorable for words.

~oOo~

The initial introductions had been handled by The Great Sage, with carefully practiced skill – normally it was a duty belonging to the Adjutant; however, Gunter had conceded the task, still shaken by what had happened in the baths and stating that it was his wish to be an observer only – knowing what might happen very shortly, the double-black considered it the least that he could do for the lavender-eyed male. As for the 'Couple' that was the focal point of the gathering; putting it bluntly, the brunet's composure, as well as that of his 'fiancée', was more-than-mildly irritating – someone would think, with the way that they were behaving, that this was some sort of leisurely 'walk-through-the-park', not a semi-formal 'meet-and-greet' with a large handful of the land's most powerful leaders, one third of which also happened to be related to the male half of the soon-to-be-wed pair. The first words that came out of the Soldier's mouth didn't help the matter any. Neither did the self-satisfied smirk that accompanied them.

"Is Yuuri Heika not joining us?" The smirk only widened at the glowers that were sent his way.

"I'm afraid not…Shibuya is…a little bit…under-the-weather, you could say." Murata answered evenly, all the while pretending not to hear Wolfram's muttered, "More like the cause of it, you mean…" as the blond's attention was drawn to the rain that continued to pelt heavily against the windowpane.

"I see…well, then…should we get started?" If Yosak hadn't known the other male so well, he would have missed it; the look of dark excitement that flashed through the chocolate brown eyes and the cruel twist of the lips had the hairs rising on the back of his neck. Even at his worst – before, during and after the war, when hurt, anger and heartache were all he knew and was all that he could look forward to – Conrart had never been like this; the spy had never seen such a look on his friend's face. It was almost as if the emotions he was expressing weren't his own…

And then, in a heartbeat, they were gone; the smirk was back on the brunet's lips as though it had never left, the flashing eyes once again showing only shadows. The orange-haired half-Mazoku watched his friend in stunned disbelief, and with just a twinge of anger, as he leaned back in his seat, and let the mocking grin on his face slowly widen in open challenge. "All right then…who wants to ask the first question?"

~oOo~

They had eaten their fill; laughing and teasing and enjoying each other's company like any father and daughter should – at least, that's the way it seemed on the outside. Inside, Yuuri Shibuya was one-big-ball of confusion – thoughts swirling and tumbling about in his brain like debris in the midst of a tornado. He could readily admit that he was clueless about many things, and he understood that he still had a lot to learn about being a King; but, as his lavender-eyed aide had once told him, that was the purpose of having advisors – to teach him what he needed to know, and then advise him how to use that knowledge for the good of the Kingdom. The explanation given made perfect sense, even to him; what didn't make sense was, if what Gunter had said was the truth (and he'd never known the silver-haired Mazoku to lie) why those very same advisors were having a meeting that he hadn't been invited to.

Unless…they were trying to protect him from something; or to be more precise, they were trying to keep him from having to deal with a certain 'someone'.

And he had a good guess as to who that someone was.

Looking over to his right, he couldn't help the smile that caught his lips. After they had eaten and played a bit (Greta was fond of 'Rock, Paper, Scissors', giggling each time she won) the russet-haired mop-top had curled up on the large, overstuffed pillows near the head of the bed and fallen fast asleep. The teen felt his heart swell with fatherly affection as he watched the little girl, the thought working its way to the front of his mind of how something that had started off so badly (she had tried to stab him; that's pretty bad, if you asked him) had ended up so well – the one that followed it was that he had been extraordinarily lucky; and that with all that he had dealt with since coming to Shin Makoku, he should really be counting his blessings.

Yuuri sighed. He just hoped that his luck hadn't run out, because the thoughts that came stomping after those were leading him to a choice that was probably going to anger quite a lot of people, especially after all the trouble that they had gone through.

And truthfully, and this was putting it mildly, he wasn't overly fond of the decision himself.

But of all the things that he might be called (and rightly so), now and in the not-so-distant future, he hoped that 'Coward' would never be counted among them.

After all, he was the King. And no matter how much it hurt him personally (and it did, oh-believe-you-me, it did) he had a Kingdom to take care of.

It was time he 'manned-up'; so-to-speak.

Gently covering his daughter with the comforter to make up for the loss of heat from the now dying fire, he tip-toed out of the room as best he could, putting a finger to his lips that had both guards outside the Chamber Doors grinning (they were used to this by now) and then quickly wiping said grins from their faces as professionalism reared its ugly head.

"I'm going for a walk." Is what he told them.

"Yes, Heika…" Is what they replied.

It wasn't really a lie; just a half-truth.

After all, no one could really complain if he just happened to find out where a certain meeting was being held while out on his walk and dropped in to say 'Hello', now could they?

~oOo~

This is getting us nowhere. The General couldn't help but glower as the dark thought settled heavily in his mind. Conrart had answered all of their questions calmly and concisely, confirming the information that they had been given earlier; but, with each additional word out of his brother's mouth, Gwendal had grown more-and-more convinced that this whole 'marriage' scenario was a farce – a fabrication – every instinct the charcoal-haired Mazoku had was screaming at him that the brunet was lying through his teeth; but he could find no rhyme or reason for it, or for what the half-Mazoku was doing, and that frustration, along with the worries that went along with the situation had him close to his breaking point. He could feel his maryoku tingling at the tips of his fingers, and the fine tremors beginning to run through the antique wooden desk below them.

Sometimes, being an earth-bender could be a disadvantage.

Wolfram hadn't been doing much better, he'd noticed. The cup of tea that the blond Mazoku held in his lap had been poured right after the introductions had been made and hadn't gone cold once; tiny sparks hitting the porcelain every so often as the youngest of Lady Celi's sons listened to the 'fairytale' they were being told with barely contained fury.

Switching his attention and settling it on Gunter (and not for the first time, mind you) Gwendal let his worry rise to the surface. The beautiful male had been sitting in silence, his face expressionless except for the slight downturn of his lips; the lilac eyes that the General loved so much staring at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing that had ever been created. It was his hands that gave him away – they were clutching the ends of the arms of the chair in which he sat so hard that they were white-knuckled – that, and the loose strands of his long silver hair, the tips of which were gently moving as if being blown by a whisper of the wind.

Murata had been carefully observing the three full-blooded Mazoku males in the room even as he'd continued to play 'Twenty Questions' with the brown-eyed soldier; he was not surprised at the way that they were reacting – he had been waiting for it.

Reaching over to the side table, the double-black made a pretext of going for the cup of tea that he had purposely set there; changing direction at the last second, his hand headed for the container of 'holy' water instead, and the seal that had acted as protection for the maryoku that had been infused into it by Shinou.

But before he could tear away the seal, there was a knock on the door, and the very thing that he had tried to prevent – the very worst thing that could happen…

…Happened.

The door opened…

…And all Hell broke loose.