Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou and anything related to it are not mine. The story itself is, no one elsecan write as bad really.
I'm pissed, that's why I'm able to produce something as rubbish as this can be. Done in more than one sitting, so quite a big mess put together here. No beta, I didn't bother to check myself either. Would be in heaven if anyone understands what I'm writing. Flames are welcome, but I'd prefer constructive criticism to that. Thank you.
The Current
The rain poured on, the sky covered by gray clouds and the city was in blissful silence. Only a few colorful spots of people treading along home with their umbrellas showed motions in the entire city from the viewpoint of a teenage boy, up in the high levels of his room in the castle.
The boy sat beside the window stand, his chin upon his palm and his elbow upon the window-ledge, his eyelids dropped every now and then in the quietness of the day. At times like this, the energetic boy seemed motionless, much against his usual self. All he wanted to do was to do nothing, to blend into the still atmosphere and to become part of it himself.
A soft knock on the door broke his concentration on the scenery. He told whoever knocked to come in - he did not bother to ask who was outside; the person must be close enough to him to knock on his bedroom's door. Wolfram's knocks carried more authority, though strange it sounded, it was reflection of his nobility; Gunter's ones carry a rhythm and were as measured as the careful man that he was; as for Gwendal - he never put the country's matters into the Maou's bedroom, he was more than capable to solving them himself if the king's time for rest had come. It was his duty to spare the load on his king's shoulders, so the older Mazoku had always thought.
A tall figure came into the room. Yuuri had yet to turn to see who he was. He knew the person could be no one else.
"Heika," came a tender voice, the same manner as he put into his knocks. "Why didn't you join the breakfast?" There was a subtle frown marring his features, and Yuuri still did not turn to face him.
"I just slept in," Yuuri replied, his tone devoid of emotions. He tilted his head to rest it on the window, the coolness of the glass was comforting. "Wolfram didn't wake me up this morning. I wonder why."
"He had training early in the morning, he must've thought it was too early to wake you up." He slowly walked up to where his king was and stood beside him, joining him in the town observation. The older man did not hide his gaze on the younger boy. Yuuri just seemed not his usual self today; he was so quiet, lacking his usual cheerfulness, but he decided it was still too early to come to any conclusions. He could not see well the look on Yuuri's face as the ebony bangs were shielding his eyes.
Yuuri's head shifted to an untouched part of the glass to a cooler spot and closed his eyes.
Silence fell between them before some moments later when Yuuri finally spoke, "I thought things will forever be the same, Conrad."
Conrad was not surprised at his words, though they were a bit out of Yuuri's character - the side of character which he chose to put to surface when Conrad's around, at least. He waited for Yuuri's elaboration, only found there was none a moment later. The room was again filled with silence. Conrad was sure there was something running through the mind of his king, he was concerned about it since Yuuri seemed troubled. "…Yuuri…?" Was all he was able to say at the moment. He was at a loss of words. He finally moved across from the boy's back to his front to see his expression, but his face was lowered. "Yuuri… is something wrong? Yuuri, face me."
The younger boy looked up, his eyes open but not focused, a tender smile on his face. Conrad was frozen in place, he knew this expression too well, "You've been doing so great to defend this country, Conrad," he said very softly, his hand rose to touch the taller man's cheek. "Such a noble person that you are, I've always looked up to you." The hand moved gently across the man's cheek to his eyebrow, to the scar that marked his pride as Shin Makoku's soldier. The fingers lingered there for a long moment. "Do forgive yourself; you could not have done any better."
Conrad's heart was contented, a feeling buried deep inside he dared not wake. His eyes softened in the feeling of bliss and sweet pain as he stared into the pair ebony eyes, now in a grayish blue due to the dimness of the room. Gently, he took the boy's hand into his, touching it with his lips; the warmth in his heart a flow of fragrance current he missed so long. "I know," he exhaled tiredly into the hand, relieved at the words. But he knew the dagger perching in his heart in the last thirty years would forever be there – he would bear it until his last breath, and that was the way he wanted it be. "I know…"
Yuuri's eyes slowly slid close and leaned into Conrad's embrace. The stillness in the air was gone; the fragrance once again became nothing but a piece of Conrad's memory. People parted and passed in the current of time, leaving tender memories and bitter remorse to the ones still drifting within. Conrad held the unconscious youth; the thoughts of how long he could hold on to the ones still remain in the vigorous flow entwined in his mind.
