Chapter 8
"We have trouble," Yozak said, coming through the door and dragging the spirit along behind him.
"I know that," Yuuri said back with a slight shrug.
Yozak looked at the hand he was holding, which was pale, followed the arm up to the shoulder and then the face. He did a double take. Wolfram's blond features and fair face smiled back at him. "When did you change into Wolfram?" he asked and got a puzzled look from everyone else in the room.
"It takes a bit of effort to show my true form," the spirit said forcing the smile to remain, "so, I just switched back when you weren't looking." It was followed by a wink.
"I don't follow," Murata said, his expression stern. As he expected, Tra'va's cheerfulness melted away, as did her girlish enthusiasm.
"Two jerks were following us," the spirit said, rubbing her glassy eyes for a second. "So, Yozak and I tricked them into thinking we were someone else. But, to do that, I had to show my true form." Wolfram's pale face glanced across at Murata. "They hadn't seen what I really look like. So, they didn't recognize us, and we gave them the slip."
"True form?" Conrad said with a hint of worry. It didn't sound good.
"I'm a girl!" Tra'va said with a pinkish blush and tucked a blond strand of Wolfram's hair behind an ear. There was a sudden feminine wiggle to the hips, too.
"A…girl…?" Conrad parroted and gave a quick glance to Yozak, who nodded back to him, if only reluctantly. "I can solemnly swear," Yozak said while praying that a guilty expression wasn't coming to him, "that Trouble's a girl."
"In Wolfram's body…?" Conrad murmured.
"Wanna see?" Tra'va tilted Wolfram's head to one side and gave a smirk.
"I don't think so," Yuuri cut in, tugging at his collar nervously. And what I have seen was half naked and wrapped around Murata tightly. Not that he minded at all… A frown was directed at the sage, who looked away just as quickly.
Trouble, who could feel Yuuri's tension growing, turned from the others and raked fingers through a mop of damp, blond hair.
"Tell us more about those men who were following you," Conrad said, placing a brotherly hand on Wolfram's shoulder. Pink eyes turned to emerald green at the touch. Conrad's eyes widened for a second, surprised. Then, he smiled a real smile, not one of the practiced smiles that he saved for just about everyone else except Yuuri. It was like a secret only the two of them shared. Yes, Wolfram was inside, "buried" but still inside, and watching them when he wanted to.
All too soon, the green color faded away and Trouble said, "They're human. Their auras are black—which means they're hiding something deadly. But, at times, I can see a kind of 'muddy red' in their auras as well. And there's a bloodlust to them. But they're cowards deep down. They're relying too much on those red rocks to save them when a situation goes sour."
"What do they want?" the sage asked.
There was a shrug at that. The spirit didn't want to answer, but decided it was probably for the best to tell it all because the question was asked by Murata. "I-I don't…know."
Murata raised a skeptical eyebrow. The piercing black eyes told her that he wasn't buying it all. Maybe, it was the unexpected stutter. But she was still debating within herself how to answer.
It's easier, this time, to be honest. "Husband, I truly don't know." The words were sincere and the sage felt almost satisfied. Do it now in front of everyone, I suppose. "You see," Tra'va continued with a bit of fatigue, "I would have to touch them to read their intentions."
"Wait… Can you do that to everyone you touch?" Yozak asked, now getting a much better picture of his so called "wife's" magical gifts.
He got a nod. "I can see more than just Wolfram's heart. If I touch you, I can learn anything that I want." It was blunt, honest, and true. But, to the spirit's chagrin, it also flared sparks of uncertainty and fear in everyone around her. She could feel the agitation without even trying. I suppose I could have phrased that better. But, then again, maybe I'm growing too attached to these guys. She studied Murata's face for a second. He was definitely trying to hide his feelings even though he knew far more than the rest of them. No, this is good, she told herself, it reminds me of where I stand with them.
Downstairs, music started blaring and a small chorus began singing a rowdy pub song. Feet stomped and the rhythm was picked up by the other patrons.
Trouble stared a hole into the floor. "I see the bachelor party has started. I overheard someone in the hall bathroom talking about it on his way out." There was a wry smile from Wolfram's lips that made Yuuri uncomfortable. He wanted to take a step back but forced himself to stay.
"It doesn't concern us, though," the spirit finished. There was a far away look in pinkish eyes, and Murata frowned a little at that. "Here's another question…" the sage said in an effort to get Trouble back on track, "Can you trace their auras?"
"Yes," Tra'va said, "but I don't know why you'd want me to. We can just leave."
"If I knew where they're hiding, I could keep an eye on them and learn more about what they're up to," Yozak said, happy with the idea of having some real work to do. He'd been with this little traveling group too long and the overwhelming urge to be on his own was coming back to him.
The sage took his glasses off and polished them against his chest. "It would be helpful to see if they're after Morgif, the way the other two were," Murata said, putting his glasses back on his face again.
At the mention of his name, Morgif moaned from under the bed. Yuuri knelt down to discover that the sword had a significant dust bunny collection sticking to him. Morgif tried to blow them away, but the bunnies only laughed at him and rolled onto the sheath with chibi glee.
"I've seen their faces and their auras are unique," Trouble said without a shred of enthusiasm. "I could track them down even in the dark."
The music and dancing downstairs spiked up again—creating a joyful cacophony of men's voices, some old and some young, some on key and some not, and all horribly out of sync—but mirthful nonetheless. It only dampened the spirit's mood even more.
"So, what are you not telling us?" Yuuri asked pointedly, doing his best to ignore the stomping match going on below their room. Tra'va's dour expression was annoying him more than the glib and snotty Trouble that he'd grown used to.
Pink eyes rolled at the question. "I don't have much time left and the shrine is not that far from here." And my energy is low thanks to using magic and getting burned in the chest. Wolfram's lithe form went to the window and drew the curtain back. "I think the holy place is just over the border and I can feel the pull even now."
"We still have a few days, though…right?" Murata said, trying to sound cheerful so that she'd go along with the plan. "So, I'll book this room for another night. At dusk, why don't you and Yozak try to do some tracking?"
"As you say," Trouble answered as a sigh, looking at him. "I can refuse you nothing."
The words were hollow and, for the first time, Murata realized that he was forcing her. He felt a little guilty at that. But if he could know what the enemy was up to, he could prepare a way out. Besides, if he didn't push for an investigation, Yuuri certainly would.
Morgif could possibly be on the line here. It was necessary to at least look into the situation.
The blond turned back to the window and watched the street below. I can understand why Wolfram feels so lonely with these guys. Going out of the way for a stupid adventure can get them killed. They just don't see it…or don't want to see it. Yuuri is the king! They should be protecting him. Instead, they want to investigate everything without considering the consequences of doing it. More importantly, I have no say in what goes on. This isn't fun anymore.
"Trouble?" Yuuri said, watching her. Some part of him felt worried. He didn't know why.
"I'll do it," Tra'va said bitterly, "but don't ask me to like it."
The group broke up. Conrad and Yozak went downstairs to get something to snack on if they could just get past the crazy bachelor party going on. But, Trouble wasn't tricked by it at all. Their auras quickly reappeared in the hallway. They were probably chatting about her right now.
Pink eyes turned to the paper bag that suddenly materialized in front of her.
"I think this was supposed to be your breakfast. Sorry about that," he said with a smile. The bag dangled in one hand while Murata scratched his raven hair sheepishly with the other.
"Thank you." Wolfram's voice responded but with an animalistic growl behind it. Trouble decided to stop sounding human when it wasn't necessary. Conserving as much energy as possible was the next goal.
The spirit turned away from them and took off the cape one handed. With a flair, it was draped against the chair next to the bed. And Wolfram's body sat down on the bed nearest the window and opened the bag lethargically.
Just staring at the figure, Yuuri felt himself missing Wolfram all over again. The form on the bed was cute—very cute. And, when a bite was taken out of the green pear, the blond's jaw moved slowly. It was a sensuous movement without ever meaning to be. Blond locks spilled to one side. The eyes closed with the next bite and, if only for a second, Yuuri imagined Trouble gone and Wolfram back—sitting there, just the two of them again. The double black felt drawn to it.
"I'm sorry that you're not happy about the plan, Tra'va," Murata said, interrupting Yuuri's thoughts. The sage hoped to engage the blond in conversation. It would lower the stress in the room and make things better.
"I'll do as you say," the spirit repeated with a sigh. "I think I'll take another nap, though."
"You've been sleeping a lot," Yuuri observed and, for the first time, Murata started to grow concerned at that. The sage gave Tra'va a closer look. The skin was damp as was the hair. The fever blush was back with the glassy, pinkish eyes. The body seemed slack, tired.
"Fine, I'll stay awake," the spirit said and forced the body up again, taking another bite of the pear before dropping the half eaten fruit back into the bag with disinterest.
"No, that's not what I mean," Yuuri said, his hands waving in front of him defensively. He tried smiling the same kind of sheepish smile that usually irritated Wolfram. Like Murata, he was certain that something was wrong but decided to keep his mouth closed about it in the short-term. "Sleep if you need to."
"Thank you," Trouble said quietly and curled up on top of the bed covers in kittenish fashion. "Could someone come back and wake me in a few hours?"
Murata's eyes narrowed at that. Hmmm… 'Translation: Leave me alone while I sleep.' Tra'va's probably going to use Wolfram's magic to get rid of the fever again. But, what was that purple light that I saw? It was definitely not healing magic. It seemed almost…destructive and painful.
"I'll stay with you," Murata said and got an instant frown from Yuuri. Deciding to push Yuuri a little, he said, "Is there a problem with that, Shibuya?"
"Ummm…no," Yuuri said, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the question. He glanced at the blond on the bed. "I just think that it's best to let someone rest. That's all."
Pinkish eyes opened at that. There was a look of victory. The eyes closed again.
"This way," Murata said, taking Yuuri by the arm. Before the double black could say anything, the sage escorted him out the door and shut it smartly.
"Finally," Trouble groaned. She sat up with some effort while she tried to ignore the nagging aches all over that could have used a good massage. A palm made a green light across the forehead and the spirit sighed in relief. "Okay, fever…stop spiking… This skin feels like a blast furnace." The cooling green light felt great and the spirit slumped back down on her right side with her back to the door. Wolfram's now pasty face turned in the direction of the cool breeze floating in from the window.
The spirit raised the left hand in the air and lowered the index, middle, and ring fingers—making a "y." Then, the hand was pressed against Wolfram's chest with a purple glow spilling out. "Ouch-ch-ch," Tra'va complained. The muscles tightened and pulled. A strong cramp in the middle of the chest latched on. "Damn!"
"What are you doing?" Murata demanded, walking briskly to the bed. "What is that purple light?"
Caught in a haze of pain, Trouble simply stared at him. "I thought…I felt you on the other side of the door. I was an idiot for not looking."
The sage ignored it and sat on the edge of the bed that bed Yuuri slept in. Murata leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. "This isn't the first time I've seen you use that purple light on Wolfram's chest. So, are you going to answer or not?"
Trouble thought about it—becoming defensive with arms folded across the chest. It was also a convenient way to put pressure on the muscles that were tight and aching.
Black eyes stared deeply into pink ones.
Seeing that her answers were not forthcoming, Murata added, "Aren't you going to tell me, my husband…or is it 'wife,' now?"
"Would gender really matter?" There was pain in the voice.
"I suppose not."
"Gender matters to some people." Murata frowned at the reference to Yuuri. The sage began to suspect that Trouble wasn't just peeking into Wolfram's heart from time to time, but had actually read through it—knowing everything about all of them from the blond's perspective.
Then a slight, fanged smile was shot at him and Murata features went blank. The spirit said, "If I tell you…then, as my spouse, you cannot tell anyone else. That's the spousal contract. You can't testify against me…and Yuuri Heika…is your law among the Mazoku."
Black eyes widened. "It's that bad, isn't it?"
The look was ambivalent. "Let's just say 'good' and 'bad' can often be defined according to context and perspective."
"I'm not going to have a philosophical argument with you," the sage said with a hint of pride. "I'd win that one."
"Maybe…maybe, you should have tried to have one with Wolfram…to let him see the situation more clearly."
"What do you mean?" Murata said, eyebrows pushed together.
"Then, tell me this, husband…" Tra'va said with a face that looked like anger was boiling blow the surface. "Why do you think that it was so easy for me to get this body?"
Murata gave a confused shrug.
"Husband, why could I simply reach out and take what I was so desperate for?"
"If you didn't, you wouldn't be able to journey. You'd, in essence, fail in your quest and your spirit would die."
"I'd be sent to the void, yes." Blond hair nodded at that. But it was an angry nod. "Still, this body was easy to take, Murata," she said. "In fact, it was the easiest." And the sage's anxiety went up. "It was so simple! All I had to do was take hold of Wolfram's heart. I grabbed it and searched for the most painful memories I could find. And, do you know what I found?"
The sage's mouth felt dry. He had a very good idea of what Trouble found.
"I found Yuuri Heika—his face, first glimpses of him, little moments that would mean nothing to anybody else. I found pain and torment…despair and hope…" Tra'va laughed bitterly at that, pushing a fist against Wolfram's chest again because the agony had returned, but not physical agony alone. "False hope is a torment all its own. How else could I have learned about Kumiko?"
With the doubled up a fist, the spirit continued to keep up pressure in the center of Wolfram's chest. It only diminished the pain a little. The blond head fell forward weakly. "I'm tired of feeling like this. I can't wait to get to the shrine," Tra'va confessed. Wolfram's face was turning white as a sheet.
Murata moved to the same bed with the spirit, now slumped over even more. "Tra'va?" he said and stroked the damp hair. "Is that purple light supposed to stop the pain you're going through?"
"No," she rasped.
The sage's eyes widened again. He leaned down to make eye contact. Carefully, he asked, "Are you actually…causing the pain?"
The spirit raised Wolfram's head in what she had hoped would be an act of defiance. It was her way, after all. But, inside, Wolfram betrayed that and a single tear spilled out of the right eye. Tra'va felt its warmth and she caved in. "It feels like knives being raked into me…and the muscles pull and tighten." The blond head rested on Murata's shoulder. Shocked, he still managed to put an arm around the narrow shoulders.
"I want…" she hissed with the next waive of pain "…to stop…but I can't."
"Why?" Murata asked, folding her in his arms.
"It's the price I had to pay to use this body…the price Wolfram requested." The spirit was breathing hard, breathing through the pain. "But, it's so difficult to do this with precision and still shield Wolfram from the agony so that he only feels numb."
"Then, stop," Murata ordered.
"I'm half way done," Tra'va said. "I just…"
The sage shook his head. "As your husband, I'm ordering you to stop." He raised Wolfram's face and wiped the warm, salty path that shined from Wolfram's eye. "I'm telling you to do as I say."
"But he needs this… I have to repay."
The sage gripped her. "I think you've done enough to repay Wolfram. It was a crazy idea to begin with. I think punishing him…or maybe 'self-torture' would be more accurate…for being a fool and loving Shibuya isn't going to help—ever. Just because someone doesn't love you back…it doesn't mean that you can hurt yourself." He held Tra'va closer.
"That's not what I'm doing," Tra'va said. The head pounding was brief and the cramped muscles were beginning to relax.
"Then, what are you doing?" Yuuri demanded, swinging the door open. "And I suppose, if you thought Murata was on the other side of the door with me, then it should be no surprise that I'm still here."
Trouble buried a tired face into Murata's shoulder. "Damn…" Tra'va took a shaky breath and let it out. "I'm sorry, Wolfram. I really am." I just can't think straight feeling this way.
"Tell me," Yuuri repeated, approaching the bed. He knelt down beside it but had a furious expression on his face. "What was the deal you made with Wolfram? Obviously, he was weak and in pain. You took advantage of that so that you could have a host. So, what was the deal?"
Angry eyes, turning a dark shade of red wine, regarded him. Teeth gritted into a smile. Even though Murata had his arms around the spirit, he wondered what he'd do if Trouble got any angrier. Wolfram's whole body was shaking.
"Ah…the question…" Wolfram hideous smile changed, sharp little fangs grew longer. "Wolfram said that I couldn't tell anyone but you…but that you wouldn't bother to ask unless you were busy trying to play 'hero' again." The face had a cold anger which didn't make Yuuri back down at all. Instead, he could feel The Maou inside him, stirring.
"If I do my job right, you'll have everything you want, Yuuri Heika. You can have Kumiko every night if you like…in the maou's bed." The spirit taunted in Wolfram's voice. "And you'll have Wolfram, a loyal tin soldier, standing by your side when it's convenient for you. Then again, his love and loyalty were always conveniences, right Yuuri Heika?"
"The deal," he spat angrily.
Feet pounded. The dancing below got wilder. The party, roaring into life. Men were singing, half drunk.
"Answer!" Yuuri shouted.
"To kill all feelings for you…piece by piece…until there's nothing left."
It knocked the wind out of him. Yuuri's black eyes widened in shock and disbelief.
"It was Wolfram's request!"
"No," the double black said, stunned. Then, his memory flashed back to Trouble in "shadow-man" form. Wolfram was in the spirit's arms, sobbing piteously. At the time, he thought it was because the blond couldn't get away.
A toothy smile grinned at Yuuri. "If I do my job right, when this is all over with…" the blond glared defiantly "Wolfram will be able to look deeply into your eyes…and feel…nothing."
"And you can do that…permanently? I won't allow it!" Yuuri roared back, he could feel his eyes wanting to turn into dark slits. His voice was deepening.
"I've been doing it for awhile now!" Trouble bellowed and immediately threw up a shield, palms flat pressing it in place. A blast of blue light hit the purple barrier and ricocheted into the wall, blasting a hole into it. Still in the hallway, Conrad and Yozak peeked hesitantly into the hole only to be met with the sight of a room, swirling with magic winds. Yuuri was kneeling down in Maou Mode, and a livid female flying fox spirit was perched on the bed with Murata who was covering his face with his bent arm.
"There is nothing 'just' in what you have done to Wolfram!" the Maou bellowed, black eyes dangerous.
"That should be my line!" the spirit spat back. Her body begged to lunge forward aggressively. Only the barrier was keeping her in place.
Black, shoulder length hair shifted restlessly against The Maou's shoulders. "He's my inamorato! You had no right!"
The flying fox woman dressed in Wolfram's clothing clinched her fists in frustration. "I had every right. And you should have treated him better than this!" she yelled through the barrier.
The air crackled with electricity and the blue bands of light searched the room. Tra'va pulled the shield into a circle making a barrier to protect herself and Murata.
"Yuuri has to make his own decisions…and live with them!" The Maou fumed.
Foxish features grew angry all over again. A lip curled. "He's half of you! Wolfram has shown me this. So, skip the 'holier than thou' crap." Hot, angry tears were coming. "If you loved Wolfram so much, which I don't believe—by the way—then, why did you let Yuuri destroy the only shot at happiness that you've got?"
The Maou glared and stood up rigidly. "In time, he would have seen Wolfram for what he was to us."
Her jaw fell. The Demon King got an incredulous stare. "Huh? 'For what he was?' Do you even listen to yourself? You said 'was.' It would be too late. No one chooses to be treated this way. Or, did you want him to be like the other maou's spouses? Wolfram knows the history of Shin Makoku. He knows how they were treated—cheated on, ignored, abandoned…lonely. Is that the future you had planned? Or did you allow this as a test of Wolfram's loyalty? How much would he be willing to take before he walked away?"
Eyes with black slits narrowed. Slowly, a fist pushed its way through Tra'va's purple barrier. "You're weakening, fox."
It was true. The spirit was using too much energy to defend herself against The Maou. But she had to get one more shot in. "Oh, why don't you spout off more 'As the 27th Maou of Shin Makoku' crap to me? Maybe, I'll be impressed this time…" Then, before she knew it, he'd broken through. Thick fingers found the fox woman's neck and he latched on.
Instantly, the shield disappeared and Tra'va's winged form was pulled forward off the bed, almost into The Maou. The fingers tightened. She had to stand on her toes to breathe.
"Damn," she gritted out.
Tra'va?
Wolfram?
Let me handle this.
He's so angry right now…you shouldn't…
It's Yuuri…I've faced him before…like this…in a duel.
But…Wolfram!
The words "stay back" echoed in Trouble's mind as she found her soul being pushed away into a far, dark corner in Wolfram's heart. She called to Wolfram, but knew that he wouldn't answer her.
Wolfram's bright blond features slowly emerged. The skin whitened and the body shifted to something slightly smaller than the fox form that it had just seconds ago. The face tilted up and green eyes stared into black ones.
"Yuuri?" Wolfram said quietly, he gasped for a breath, but it was almost impossible. Thin arms hung down loosely.
The Maou's face fell at that, as did Wolfram from his grip. But in the next moment, the blond felt strong arms around him, bringing him in.
Murata, seeing his chance, rolled off the bed and made a hasty exit to the bedroom door where Yozak and Conrad were standing.
With the blond ragdoll pressed against his side, The Maou grabbed one edge of the thin curtain, shoved it back, opened the window, and looked down to the city below. There was a rain barrel across the street. It was perfect. With one finger pointed at the barrel, a water dragon appeared. The skies darkened and a light rain fell with a sleepy 'patting' sound. The dragon grew in size and approached the window. It wrapped itself around the couple, and took Wolfram and the Demon King down to the street below.
Murata, Yozak, and Conrad walked briskly to the open window and looked out to see the figures move between two buildings and off to the small piney woods beyond.
"I think they want to be alone," Yozak said, making eye contact with Conrad while the skies outside began to clear.
"Yes, I know." He folded his arms and told himself not to worry. But he did anyway.
The Maou's strides went forward and with great purpose. Wolfram's body, being weak, had a hard time keeping up. He stumbled more than once and cursed quietly when he tripped over a clump of weeds. With a steely side glance, The Demon King simply stopped, picked up Wolfram bridal style, and kept going.
The blond leaned against his chest, hair splayed against the black material. The legs dangled over the king's right arm. Wolfram glanced up at the well set jaw and sharp features of the man carrying him. The king was smoldering inside. Wolfram knew it, but couldn't bring himself to care.
The Demon King didn't stop until he found a quiet spot away from everyone. The town they'd just walked away from was within viewing distance. It had that quaint, storybook look to it.
Gently, he put Wolfram beneath a pine tree and sat down next to him, feeling the cool breeze wash over them both.
"You're different now," The Maou said, eyeing Wolfram's body in a way that didn't make the blond feel very comfortable. But he reminded himself that this was Yuuri—an older, wiser part—a spirit that was strong like Tra'va—no, stronger. But, underneath it all, it was his former fiancé.
Weakly, Wolfram leaned against the tree and felt the bark bite into his tender back. "I suppose…I am," he answered honestly.
"I can see it," he said with a disapproving tone, placing a finger against Wolfram's chest and then moving it left and right. He traced the finger down the side of Wolfram's neck, which was beginning to show signs of bruising from when he'd grabbed Tra'va, and followed a path straight to the blond's heart. "Your soul feels different. It is different." The king's hand pressed against Wolfram's forehead and he frowned deeply.
Dull, green eyes the color of old glass blinked back at The Maou. With lethargic motions, he touched The Demon King's hand, wrapped his fingers around it, and peeled it away. "She didn't do anything that I didn't ask for." He thought back on the deal that they'd made. "I saw an opportunity and I took it." The blond gave the hand a soft squeeze before releasing it.
The Maou's black eyes radiated ire. "You should not have done that." A larger, much firmer hand, rested on the blond's shoulder.
Wolfram looked up and watched a low cloud melt away in the sky. "It's for the greater good. It's what you deserve and what I can live with." The disapproving fingers gripped into a narrow shoulder. The blond ignored it. "You should be happy, Yuuri. Once I leave Tra'va at the shrine, everything will start over. You'll have your life, and I'll have mine."
The hand grabbed Wolfram and tugged him closer. He was off balance and his body was leaning into The Maou.
"What do you feel for me now?" It was an honest question, but an awkward one coming from the person who ruled the kingdom. And, to make matters worse, the dull green eyes deeply worried the man. If this change was permanent, he wasn't sure who to blame.
"Truthfully…it's…." He regarded Yuuri for a second. Even in Maou mode, he was handsome and was once his thanks to a slap. The look was unmistakable—regret. "A soft ache…"
"I'm keeping you by my side," The Maou said. His voice was stern and his decision final.
Wolfram's lips turned up in a slight smile. "Of course, I would be more than pleased to stay by your side. I'm still a good swordsman—though, not as good as Conrad—and my fire wielding is better than most. I can protect you in your other form." Then, he tilted his chin up to see dark eyes that were still burning. "My mother, Gwendal, and I have been deciding what to do with me. When this is all over, I mean. Once our engagement is ended, I'll have a loss of status. It means nothing to you, but I'll feel the impact of it. That's why we're retraining my private guard to become a specialized light infantry."
A deep voice answered, "And why would you think I would allow you to do that? The light infantry goes in first with very little armor. On the battlefield, they engage and antagonize the enemy."
"I'll be Gwendal's eyes and ears on the battlefield."
"I won't allow it."
Wolfram almost smiled at that. "Mother didn't want to, either. But, then, she remembered that Yuuri Heika didn't want to have wars. So, in time, she agreed."
A warm hand stroked Wolfram's cheek. He stared back dully and slowly congratulated himself. The "old Wolfram" would have blushed and been secretly thrilled for any affection from Yuuri. Any. Instead, he allowed the touch but looked on with only slight curiosity.
"I never intended to hurt you." He traced the soft curve of Wolfram's cheek. The hand reached the shoulder and rested on the upper arm.
"It won't hurt for much longer. It's best to just let these things go. I want you to be happy, I mean."
Dark, passionate eyes bore into him. "I'm not letting you go. You don't seem to understand that." He traced the outline of Wolfram's pink lips with his finger. It left a shimmering feeling behind. "Why is it that I haven't ended the engagement? Do you know why?"
Wolfram didn't answer. The blond's body was leaning heavily against the strong, well built form of The Demon King with his head, now, on the black clad shoulder. An arm curled around Wolfram's waist.
Instead of being thrilled, Wolfram sighed to himself. "Our engagement…whether it is ended or not…is a wasted effort. It's pointless. When you turn back into the 'other Yuuri,' this will all be forgotten." Wolfram lifted his ashen face to make eye contact. "…As will your affection…" He could see the turmoil in black eyes. It wasn't a good thing. He should have kept that to himself. With a slight shrug, backing down, he continued, "It's all right, though. I'll stay with you for as long as you want me."
The Demon King shook his head. Wolfram's intensity, his drive, was gone. That part of him he loved so well—the passion, with all of its fire and brilliance, was put out.
Their moment together was going badly, he knew. And, in spite of everything, Wolfram decided to comply with his king's wishes. He would stay until he was no longer wanted—again. It was only a matter of time. But he could endure it because he was different now and because he was prepared.
The blond tugged at Yuuri's clothing to get his attention. "You can kiss me…if you like." There was no blush, no embarrassment…no smile. It was said quietly and with an even, almost businesslike, tone.
With confidence, The Maou tilted Wolfram's chin up with a finger. He leaned in, whispered "You belong to me," and pressed their lips together.
Wolfram closed his eyes and wondered what this feeling was. The dull ache was gone and replaced with something else. But it was only a flicker of feeling—of something.
In the next kiss, The Maou turned his head slightly and pressed harder. The hand stroked a soft, pale face again. But, this time, the touch grew smaller, and with a lighter stroke. The Demon King's shoulder length hair shortened and his features rounded, more boyish. The irises with slits disappeared.
Yuuri's eyes fluttered open and, to his surprise, he realized that he was kissing Wolfram under a tree. His face looked confused as he took everything in, but his mouth was still puckered. I was inside the room, and now…
The blond's chin turned away to break the kiss. "Welcome back," Wolfram said, looking at him with dull, green eyes. The ache returned.
"Ummm…thanks," Yuuri said awkwardly. Then, realizing that this was his chance, he took Wolfram's hands in his and shifted his own body so that he could look straight into green eyes. "It's good to see you again." His hands squeezed Wolfram's harder.
"Thank you," Wolfram said quietly. "Shall we go back now?"
"Ummm…well… Yeah." Yuuri's eyes trailed over the blond, taking everything in. "Wolfram, are you…okay…really?" The color of Wolfram's irises bothered him. They weren't his. They were like a stranger's.
The blond got to his feet and offered Yuuri his hand without complaint or criticism. "I'm fine…as usual," he said, helping his maou up. Without saying anything else, he began the lonely trek back to the town to find the others—only glancing occasionally to spy the double black's shadow to make sure Yuuri was following. Behind him, Yuuri's eyes were drawn to the back of Wolfram's shirt and the ripped holes where his leathery wings once were.