Disclaimer: I do not own Maru-ma/Kyou Kara Maoh! I only own this little fanfic.

Seagulls were overpowering the vast sky, retreating to their homes as the day was coming to an end. The sea salt water gave an empowering melody as it crashed and rippled, soothing the young man's mind as he tried to recollect his thoughts. He stared at the horizon, watching the sun set and the sky turning from baby blue to little purple.

The ship sounded the signal. It was time for dinner, for both the passengers and crew. Yuuri would love to get his dinner with his companions; but, he was not hungry and his friends weren't here with him. He wished to be alone to collect his thoughts.


"Killed?"

The 27th Demon King's eyes widened as he loosened his grip onto the sage's collar. Murata adjusted his spectacles with his index finger and replied;

"Yes, by a good old friend of mine."

Yuuri watched as his junior high school classmate adjusted his uniform, waiting for him to continue.

"I was working on the antidote, the disease that was harming my son's life. My nap was interrupted when I heard my son screaming for help in his room. I could see smoke seeping into my room and ran out; the room was on fire."

"Murata, I-"

Murata shrugged and continued,

"Being the useless father as I was, I couldn't save him. When I finally got through the fire in his room, he was already lying on the floor, motionless."

"From what you're telling us, you didn't die!" Yuuri exclaimed, appalled with his friend telling the story with a calm expression.

Murata took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his lower arm.

Tears began to overflow from his onyx eyes and he couldn't stop them from falling. Still holding onto his spectacles, Murata tried to hold back any more tears from falling as he placed his other hand over his eyes.

"I thought I could still prepare a proper burial for him, by returning his body back to where he came from. But there he was, armed with a sword, blocking the entrance of the room."

The great sage placed his rims back to where they were supposed to,

"The serum, he demanded. And my last words were, 'In the name of the First King, I would rather die than handing the formula to you!'"

The room was silent and Murata finally smiled;

"The next thing I remember, I was a bouncing little girl living in the outskirts of Old Shimaron."

The spy whom was standing right behind his King, took a step forward and asked, "What happened to the victims who had caught the disease, Your Highness?"

"They were rid of." The owner of the voice was unexpected and everyone drifted their eyes towards the pretty boy.

"What do you mean, Wolf? Rid of, don't tell me they-"

"Yes, all affected patients were put to sleep."


"Your Majesty."

The double black ignored the gesture at first, wishing for his bodyguard to go away. The wind of the ocean was strong. His black strands swayed majestically as the rays from the setting sun reflected onto them.

"You'll catch a cold if you stay outside for too long." The voice belonged to once, a trusted subordinate, Sir Weller.

"Has the dove returned to Yozak yet?"

Conrad shook his head slightly, but realized that his King wasn't looking at him ever since he acknowledged his presence.

"Not so soon, Your Majesty. It will take at least a day for the dove to reach Small Shimaron's castle."

"As expected from His Majesty Saralegui's former escort. You sure know how Small Shimaron works." Yuuri grunted sarcastically. Sir Weller merely gave a small sigh.

"Is Wolfram still resting?"

The flame demon hadn't left his room ever since the ship set sail to sea. His seasickness was worse than usual and the young soldier was as grumpy as an 82-year old, not wanting to start any form of social interaction.

"Yes, Your Majesty"

"Good grief Lord Weller, stop calling me that! I'll go get him up; I don't want him skipping another meal today."

Yuuri stomped off, leaving his godfather chuckling alone.


"Wolfram, get up."

Yuuri called out once he entered the room. He covered his nose with his hand; the stench in the room was horrendous.

The covers on the bed moved, but the person hiding underneath it refused to get out, babbling words that Yuuri couldn't understand.

"If you skip dinner, there wouldn't be anything else to throw up," expressed the blonde's King as he opened the porthole of the cabin.

"Shut up and leave me alone." The prince grumbled, tugging the sheets tighter.

Yuuri went over and pulled the fabric, "Come on Wolf! Get up!"

Wolfram responded by tugging the covers even tighter, refusing to get out of bed. Yuuri stopped pulling when his eyes drifted towards the night table, where he noticed a large bowl and grabbed it with the intention of throwing the contents away.

"You didn't even bother throwing your… Wolfram."

Wolfram moved slightly and replied inaudibly. Yuuri slammed the concave container back on the table and pulled the sheets with full force, revealing the soldier curled up into a ball.

"Go away. I want to sleep." Wolfram grabbed a pillow and placed it on top of his head.

Yuuri jumped on the bed and sat on top of Wolfram. He then took the pillow off from the blonde's head and threw it across the room. Furious, Wolfram sat up but his head was knocked onto the other.

"Ow… Wolf, why is your head so hard." The Demon King mumbled as he sat up and rubbed his temple. Wolfram did the same but lied back down, as the grogginess returned and kicked Yuuri softly.

"Let me sleep forever."

"Don't you dare!" The King's voice was loud.

"Relax, it was just an expression. Let me- mmphf!"

The prince quickly sat up, snatched the bowl from the side table and regurgitated. Helplessly, his fiancé got up to the side of the bed and patted Wolfram's back as he watched him puke. Once Wolfram was done, he handed the bowl over to Yuuri and flopped back onto bed. He turned to the side, facing the wall.

"Look! You vomited more!"

"What else was I doing just now?" Wolfram shivered before he continued speaking;

"Your fault, for forcing me to go with you when I can help take care of the castle;" He gave out a wet cough.

"There are traces of red substance in here. You're vomiting traces of blood!"

"Don't be stupid. It's just tomato soup we had for breakfast." Wolfram coughed and it got persistent that he had to cover his mouth with his hand.

"You barely touched that soup! No…"

The raven haired man grabbed the latter's right arm and pulled him to sit up. Ignoring the blonde's tempered remarks, he examined the hand that he was holding onto.

Red, clotted liquid were smeared onto the pale-skinned palm.