Final Chapter
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"You're right," Yuuri agreed with his eyes suddenly drawn to the open window again, "There's no mistake. I am you." Quickly, he approached the desk, snatched up the quill from the inkpot, and lifted a leaf of paper from the stack.
The "Yuuri" behind the desk blinked incredibly at it all. He leaned away as a hand—a twin of his own right hand—rushed to clear a spot on the messy desk in order to write.
"Sorry, but there's no time for questions, debates, or arguments. I have just enough time to write down everything that happened at the lake for you."
The quill began frantic scratching against paper.
"The lake?" he parroted innocently but got no response. "What are you talking about?"
A soft shimmering sound filled the room and Yuuri turned slightly, still crouched over the desk. He bit his lip when he realized that the archway was already starting to materialize behind him. Sunset was approaching much sooner than he'd expected. The cheery glow out the window had been misleading.
"L-Look!" His other self said, pointing a finger at the structure's black outline. It was amazing—like a 3-D video game coming to life.
"Yes, I know. I'm running out of time," Yuuri grumbled, going back to his task and hoping that his Japanese handwriting would be good enough to read. It would take far too much effort to write all of this in Mazoku. And, worse yet, anyone could read it if he did. On the other hand, if this Japanese note were found lying around, only Murata and, possibly, Conrad could make out the words. Though, exactly how much kanji Conrad knew was anyone's guess.
"I'm the 'you' from the future…as ridiculous as it may sound," Yuuri went on as he numbered the page down the left side and began filling in the events. "And very soon, you'll be told to go to Gwendal's office. They'll want to know how you saved Wolfram's life at the lake. If you can't memorize this fast enough, just hand this list over."
"Wait! Wolf? Saved his life?" the young double black choked out, standing from his chair—his face very concerned.
He got a firm nod and then Yuuri returned to scribbling furiously on the page. "Still, it would be best to read this over. You need to, at least, appear to be clear on the facts. You know as well as I do how thorough Gwendal can be when he's grilling you."
He dipped back into the inkpot, almost toppled it over, and then dripped blotches of ink onto books and the wood on the desk. But, no matter. This had to be finished and quickly. The double black could feel the tension growing in his body with each passing second. "Done! Here!"
The younger Yuuri took the note that was shoved into his hands, not worrying about the wet ink on his fingers. "But he is okay…? Wolfram, I mean?"
The shimmering sound grew louder and Yuuri could feel something cold running through him. The image of the archway was filling in and growing in dimension. It wouldn't be long now and he had so little time left.
"Before I go…before you start thinking that this is all just some sort of preposterous dream and that you can go back to the way things are…the way things feel comfortable…when you 'wake up'…" The double black put a hand to his own chest, wrapped his fingers around the button closest to his heart and ripped it—pulling the button away. "Open your hand," he ordered and it was done. Yuuri dropped the button into his palm. "This is all very real, I promise."
The "Yuuri" behind the desk plopped down into his seat, staring into his hand. The button was identical to his own. The engraved "S.Y." in the Mazoku alphabet stood out clearly.
Desperately, the double black placed his palms on the desk and leaned forward. "But, it is more than this," he said and the "him" behind the desk met eyes.
"More?"
Yuuri cringed for a second, trying to drive away the annoying, shimmering sound.
"You have no idea what I've been through to get to this point…what Wolfram has been through."
"Wolf? I don't get it."
He shook his head. "Oh, yes you do. You know exactly what I mean. And it is time you faced it…that we faced it…" He gave a sincere look at himself, his mirror self. Maybe, someone had tried to tell him this long ago and he'd simply ignored it or had run away. Now, there was no denying it. "Our feelings for Wolfram…that's what I mean."
Black eyes widened. His jaw dropped a little and the nervousness was clearly spreading across his face. "Ah…no… You see…" He put his hand behind his head and laughed a little sheepishly.
But the blush was a dead giveaway.
Yuuri rolled his eyes. "That trick won't work with me. Why? Because I'm you." He gestured to himself. "I know what you're doing." His face grew determined and he leaned forward a little more on the desk, frustrated with the idiot in the chair sitting before him. How many times had Wolfram gone through this? Trying to make him see reason? Years, was it? But the blond's approach never worked. So…
The truth. The unvarnished.
He would say the words.
"I know! I know! You feel cornered by Wolfram's feelings for you…and the fact that everyone goes along with it, thinking it's so cute. You think you're too young to get married. You think that you'll be missing out if you live your life without a single kiss from a girl or a real date with one…or a marriage to one. I know! I get it! I do." He shook his head. "But, deep down, the truth is that you love Wolfram…always have. You need him. As illogical as it is…especially when he's throwing a tantrum." Black eyes softened and he hated himself as he spoke the words, "And the more you try to deny it, the more you push him away…you…we…end up hurting him…in so many ways…not just emotional."
The Yuuri behind the desk looked down at the numbered list with a bit of confusion. "Hurt him? I thought you just said that you'd…that I'd…just 'saved' Wolfram. He's okay now, right?"
The archway shimmered again, now waiting for Yuuri to pass through it. Either he would walk through it now with dignity or Shin Makoku—and all who dwelled within—would parish, screaming as one in an inferno of boiling, black magic and then be crushed to a singularity. Such was the nature of a paradox created by Shinou's magic.
With regret, Yuuri found himself stepping toward the archway. He'd wanted to say so much more and to have more time to convince himself of doing the right thing. But it wasn't possible. He'd failed again and he hated himself for that. The double black made a fist, nails biting into his palm. "Damn."
Yuuri turned back one final time—really looking at himself this time. The young, Japanese double black could only sit there—blinking stupidly at him with a note half crunched in one hand and a button clutched in the other.
Did he even deserve the chance to be happy with Wolfram? Someone as plain and as ordinary…as cowardly as he was? Did he…really? Then, an image of Wolfram came to him—Wolfram fussing at him while fixing his collar, fingers lingering against his skin a little longer than necessary and, then, for some reason which always escaped him, the fire dying in those green eyes as he said, "Let's go."
Yes, he decided. Yes, he did. Flaws and all. He deserved Wolfram even if he'd use the only excuse which popped into his head—he'd be selfish this time. Selfish for Wolfram's wants and needs. And those, by extension, would eventually become his own wants and needs. Yes, he'd be a bit selfish. "Please," Yuuri urged upon the point of begging, "please give me the future that I want…a future with Wolfram. Only you can do that. Only you can keep him."
And, with that, he stepped through. From somewhere, the sound of a single drop of water splashing into a pool echoed. But when the young double black looked around to see where the sound was coming from, the archway had faded away into nothingness.
Yuuri looked down into his hands—the scribbled note and the button. "I…"
"What, the hell, happened to the wall?" came a voice and Yuuri instantly perked up behind the desk. "There's bits of plaster all over the carpet."
A few more steps coming his way.
"Yuuri? Are you in here?"
Wolfram!
"Yuuri? Yuuri?"
"Umm… Over here, Wolf!" the double black called, sounding relieved. It would be good to see him with his own eyes after all of the confusing things that had just happened.
A quick glance at the note. Oh, no…gotta hide this stuff… More footsteps his way and Yuuri suddenly stood and crammed the note into his pocket. The button quickly followed.
"Oh, there you are," Wolfram said with a glance around him. Green eyes grew suspicious. "Is it just you…or…?"
Yuuri put a hand behind his head and smiled broadly. "Well, why wouldn't it be me?"
"Well…" A confused shrug. "To tell the truth… I could hear your voice from the hallway but I couldn't make out the words. It seemed like you were almost…talking to yourself there for a moment." He pulled a blond strand of hair behind his left ear. "Anyway, I've come here to tell you that Gwendal wants to see both of us in his office as soon as possible." Green eyes grew suspicious again when he saw the reaction on Yuuri's face—as though in total disbelief.
"Problem with that?"
The double black shook his head "no." But his face was still paled.
The blond put a hand on his hip and a bratty tone crept in. "After what happened today, Yuuri, you can't expect my brother to not take an interest in the attempt on my life or the way you gallantly stepped in and saved me, can you?"
He watched his face closely to see the reaction. There was an almost disbelieving stare coming from Yuuri. No mistake about it, the "Wimp" was back—not the gentle, considerate, loving man who was with him on the horse earlier. The one who said that he "liked" him and wanted to be with him. Pleasant, intimate touches and reassurances along the way. Of course, Yuuri would revert back to this. Everything was calm again. The adventure finished. Ended.
Wolfram felt something break a little inside of himself. He should have known better. Should have been smarter. Why do this to himself over and over again when the outcome was never in question? But it was more than that. There was something lonely about it, too. And, maybe, the problem really wasn't Yuuri to begin with. Maybe, the blond guessed, the problem was the person he saw in the mirror each morning—the person whose face showed more and more disappointment as the years slowly passed.
Lying to yourself through dreams. Someday, he will care for me, too.
Lying by technicality. I'm your fiancé, Yuuri, so I…
Enough.
"I…um…also came to tell you something else," Wolfram went on in a much quieter tone.
"Yes?" He cocked his head sideways, curious.
"Well, to begin with, my family owes you a great deal for saving my life. To have my safety and my honor defended at sword point by the maou… Well, there are few greater honors in Shin Makoku." There was a profound bow which followed.
Yuuri could only smile nervously at that, wondering exactly what had gone on.
"Thank you, Yuuri, for what you have done." Green eyes smiled sadly and Yuuri found himself feeling confused. Shouldn't Wolfram feel happy? Most people would, right?
Wolfram strolled to the window and looked out at the coming of nightfall. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. To become one with it and to flee all of his cares would be a godsend. But life was not like that. "You know, on another subject, Gwendal and I are leaving in a few days to go on a hunting trip at Voltaire Castle. We'll be gone for a fortnight." He fingered the windowsill lightly, a soft touch to and fro. "Then, from there, I'm going to meet mother at Spitzburg Castle." A chuckle to himself. He had not indulged her like that in years. "She says that she has some people there she wants me to meet and, then, there will be a trip after that." He turned back to Yuuri. "So, I guess, I'll go…"
The young king brightened. "That's really great, Wolf! I know you'll have a fun time."
His answer was a non-committal hum and a quiet stroll away from the window.
Something seemed wrong, the double black realized, and a heavy silence fell between them. He moved his hand—fingers streaking leftover splotches of ink across the desk into arcs. The wetness made him remember the archway and…
"So, uh…Wolf?" Yuuri asked, looking down at another drying ink splotch on the desk. The stains, he knew, were permanent and his own fault—his own in a way. "When are you coming back? I mean, you know, Greta's gonna ask and all." Using Greta was lame, Yuuri knew, and some part of him felt ashamed. But it was second nature now to find ways of asking painful or personal questions without getting too close to the blond who stood before him.
Wolfram smiled thinly, seeing right through him. "While I'm gone, I think you should eat some delicious food…and taste some luscious wine…" Green eyes met his with sincerity. "Meet some new faces…and dance a lot, never worrying about the time…" The blond forced himself to smile at the thought. He had to. "You're king and you should enjoy life. It's about time you did."
The double black looked away for a second. "You're…uh…not going to tell me when you're coming back, huh, Wolf?" Yuuri said but his short laugh wasn't believable for either of them. Absently, he rubbed his ink-stained fingers together. "It's…almost like you've given up," he continued.
Wolfram sighed for a second. "Just because I've given up on you…it doesn't mean that I've given up on me." He straightened his shoulders a little, head held high. "And don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I've made it this far on my own…without your care or concern. All I have to do is keep walking forward, step by step, and, when things get tiring, I'll hold onto what's important."
Yuuri said, putting a hand in his pocket, "And that's…"
"You have Conrad, Gwendal, Günter, and others in the castle who will look out for you. You don't need to worry about being on your own or feeling lonesome." He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, "And should you need me…" Then, he shook his head. Yuuri was maou. He was The Maou. He didn't need him now and never would. "Well, at any rate, you'll always have a sword willing to fight by your side living in Bielefeld."
Wolfram turned on his heel, making his way for the door. "So, now, we really need to go to Gwendal's office."
"Wait, Wolf."
The blond half turned.
"I…uh mean…" Yuuri stood from his chair, putting a hand in his pocket. "I'll join you in a few minutes. Tell Gwendal for me, okay?"
Wolfram shrugged resignedly and walked away. "As you wish."
The young king waited to hear the sound of the library door being closed before he pulled out the contents of his pocket. The button landed on the desk, made a spiral, and fell flat with a metallic "clink." The note crinkled as he opened it hastily and poured over the contents. "Okay, okay! What happened and what do I do about it?" he asked himself as he went through the beginning line of hastily written Japanese. He had to know and he had to know now.
At the bottom, there was a final plea: "You stand at a crossroads in our life. Decide well-for both of us."
Yuuri shook his head, "You're asking me to make a decision. But, still… Is what you want what I'm ready for? If ever…"
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…FIVE YEARS LATER…
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Three black haired children were playing in the royal gardens outside of Yuuri's window. The screeches and shouts of laughter were enough to wake him from a dead sleep, even knowing—in the haze of waking—that it was far too early on that summer morning to go through the shock of that. Yozak's ringing laugh could be heard, too, along with wet, smacking sounds against what seemed to be the stonework of the castle.
"So, he's instigating it," Yuuri sighed into his pillow, wanting to roll over onto his back and doze but knowing that it wasn't going to happen.
"Nah! You missed me! You missed me!"
"That's Nathan," Yuuri grunted, getting up lethargically and padding over to the closet. He needed clothes.
"Stupid head!"
"And Jonathan," Yuuri groaned, "which means that our youngest is…"
"Big, bad meanie! Boo! Boo!"
"Is somewhere around, too," Yuuri went on, continuing his thought. "I guess, all three of my kids are a royal pain this morning," he grumbled, shedding his clothes and getting dressed for the day. He knew far too well that no one, with the exception of Nanny, would willingly step in and make the children stop their game of…well, whatever it was. "Where is Nanny anyway?" he wondered out loud while going over to the bed and putting his socks on. "I hope they haven't tied her up to the apple tree again. She complained for a week after that last time because standing for so long made her gout bad."
The double black stepped into his shoes and made his way to the garden in the hopes that he could manage the chaos that was going on. But, once he got outside, he was stunned—standing rooted to the spot.
Dripping wet, Yozak emerged from his hiding place behind the tall, flowering shrub. His muddy tunic was plastered against his well-sculpted body, revealing every curve and muscle. Drops of water were clinging to his orange hair as he brushed it back with a single flip, enjoying the attention that Yuuri was giving him and enjoying, even more, the huge blush that came to the young king's face. Looking down at himself, even Yozak had to admit that his wet breeches left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Then again, with his physique, there was nothing to be ashamed about, either.
A well-built man was a well built man.
Yozak winked at him. So cheeky.
Yuuri found his way to the stone bench nearby and sat down. And then his jaw fell when...
Splat!
"Uncle Yozak! Did I do good, huh? Did I?" came the voice. Apparently, Nathan had been hiding behind the shrub with the castle spy. Yozak looked down to the middle prince and agreed, "Yes, you got your older brother good… Just, next time, don't put a rock in the center of that mud ball."
"But brothers are like that," Conrad chimed in behind the double black, startling him. How silently his godfather moved could still astound him sometimes. But, there was really no time to be appreciating such things. With his eyes, he gave Conrad the "make Yozak behave" vibe and the older man understood instantly.
"Yozak, can I speak with you for a moment?"
With a broad grin, and shaking off muddy water like a puppy, the castle spy happily jumped out of the ever expanding field of muck he'd made with the boys.
"Oh, this is not good. Definitely not good," Yuuri moaned softly to himself. "I mean, what if…?" A sound behind him caught his attention and he turned his head toward the heavy castle doors. There was Wolfram standing on the top step leading in. He was wearing faun trousers, a white shirt with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a navy vest. The black steel hoop earring in his left ear shined softly as did his gold wedding ring, from him, and a Maou's Tear ring on the forefinger, given to him by The Maou on their wedding night three years ago.
Oh, no!
"Wolf!" Yuuri said, standing up abruptly. He knew how the blond felt about dirt and the boys getting dirty. But, mud!
"What…the hell…" The Royal Consort's tone rose in pitch and volume, taking in the sight of his precious children in their new clothes. Rolling around in…thoroughly caked in… Then, his burning eyes flicked to the right.
Wet.
Spy.
Using a towel to dry off…
"Yozak! You did this to them, didn't you?"
"Just a little bit of fun!" he returned but allowed Conrad to steer him in another direction entirely to escape the wrath of Wolfram—including stray fireballs which may or may not have been so "stray."
Not a good thing for the boys to see.
The children laughed anyway—mud covered hands over their faces.
Wolfram approached his three children—covered head to toe in Shin Makoku's rich, black soil. It was impossible to see their natural hair color. Only their eyes—all indigo—peeped out impishly.
This was too much.
The blond stomped over to the bench and plopped himself down. "I can't believe this, Yuuri! What a mess! And where is Nanny?" He scanned the surroundings but there was no sign of her. Her absence put a sour feeling in his stomach. They might have to send out another search party for the middle aged woman.
"Calm down," the double black returned with a slight laugh—the kind his father always gave his mother when she was upset. "It's only mud. And they are boys, after all. So, let's not make this a big deal." Then, in a lower voice, he reminded Wolfram. "Remember all they've been through…everything…before they came into our lives…"
With that, Wolfram softened. Yes, the boys had been through a lot before they'd been adopted. Wolfram remembered his hunting trip with Gwendal in the von Voltaire lands when a lightning strike set dry fields and an entire village on fire. These three little ones were the only survivors. And the youngest would always have burn scars on his back as a result. But Wolfram was there for them—every step of the way.
And always would be.
And, while they loved Yuuri, too, and admired their other father as "king," it was Wolfram who was wanted and needed most. He was the one they called out to in the night when they had nightmares and when boo-boos seemed impossible to bear alone.
A pudgy, grubby Mazoku hand reached out for Wolfram's. Taking it, he gave it a shake. "Papa?"
"Yes, Walther?"
After receiving a very broad hint, they had named the youngest one "Walther" after Wolfram's uncle—an honor that the older Mazoku took to heart. Now, Yuuri and Wolfram's only problem was that "Uncle Walt" and "Little Walt" were thick as thieves, shared secrets, and had many adventures together. And to make sure that the other two boys didn't feel left out, enormous spice cakes, boxes of candy, toys, and other presents were constantly making their way from Bielefeld.
"Papa," Walther lisped, "… ya mad?"
Wolfram frowned, turning his face away. "Well…"
"We were just playing mud wielder!" Jonathan chimed in from behind his baby brother, so proud of himself.
"And I'm going to be the best!" Nathan bustled in, always competitive with his brother. For, Jonathan was, due to age, "the heir" and Nathan was called "the spare."
"Walt, too!" the little one insisted, not wanting to be left out. Even covered in mud, he still had a way about him—an elfin charm that Wolfram, himself, had when he was little. No wonder their youngest child was called "the debonair" and was favored by Waltorana.
"Mud wielder?" Wolfram shook his head incredulously at that. "Who told you of such a thing?"
"YOZAK!" All three boys pointed the way the castle spy had gone. He was their hero.
"Eh-h-h-h?" He blinked at it all and then Wolfram carefully gritted his teeth into a smile—furious. "Well, then… Yozak…who has never wielded an ounce of magic in his life…and I need to have a little talk."
"Um, Wolf?" Yuuri interrupted, fanning the air around them.
"Yes?" But it was barked out a little more than he'd like in front of the boys.
"You're smoking… I mean, literally…" Yuuri swallowed thickly. "You know, we agreed you wouldn't do that in front of the boys. It's not good for them." He leaned into Wolfram's ear and whispered, "Considering their past…and especially if any of them become fire wielders or something."
The blond leaned back and tried to relax the tension away. "They'll probably be earth wielders…coming from my brother's lands… And they have his coloring, too."
Another little shake from the pudgy hand. "Papa?"
"Yes, Walt?" Wolfram said, trying not to sigh the child's name. This was becoming a long day already and the morning wasn't even over with.
The child tugged at his trousers with a deepening pout, lower lip stuck out. "Got mud in my pants. Kinda feels like I got poopie plops in my underwear."
With that, Wolfram stood up, rod straight and took his child's hand. He said lowly, "Little princelings do not say 'poopie plops'. Now, let's go into the castle." He looked at the other boys and raised his voice, "BATH! Everyone takes a bath now!" He gestured with his head toward the castle. "Now! March, soldiers!"
Jonathan and Nathan saluted cutely. And, with that, the two older boys marched, then walked swiftly toward the baths. At first, they were just following Papa's orders. But, Nathan ran a little faster than Jonathan and the older brother didn't like it. Soon, it was an all out race with mud flying from their hair, shoes, and clothes.
Splatters and footprints.
Servants ducked away.
Wolfram covered his eyes with his hand. Did he really need to go through this? Really? A tug on his hand. Green eyes looked down. Muddy little Walt was smiling up at him with a full set of baby teeth.
"You, too. Off to the tub."
They walked swiftly toward the castle. Little Walt's legs scrambling to keep up with each of Wolfram's steps. And every once in awhile, he'd tug at his muddy britches with his free hand, doing a dance. "So, Papa… What do little princelings say when they've actually got poopie plops in their undies?"
Wolfram groaned a nonsensical answer.
And Yuuri laughed at him, following from behind.
And life was a wonderful thing.