Disclaimer: Nothing Murata says or does is intended to reflect any actual practices or truths.

Devil's Food

Chapter Four: Cafè Mocha

It's a sea of skirts.

Before finding himself in this situation, Yuuri might have thought that would be positively ideal. Actually being surrounded by skirts, and of course the girls in them, however, proved not quite so exciting as it was overwhelming. He was, after all, only here to search for his friend, who had gone out of his way to invite him to the school festival without so much as telling him his class number. Thus Yuuri had been milling about for the past ten minutes or so among the first year classrooms, despite having rushed all the way here from his own school so as not to have seemed like he was trying to skip out on his promise.

So much for that, he sighed to himself. Way to go, Murata!

This room had seemed promising, if anything, for the sheer number of people. It was positively packed. It had only been since entering that he'd realized it seemed to be exclusively girls. Not that this revelation would exclude the possibility that Murata was in here. He tended to drift towards wherever skirted beings could be found. As Yuuri peered around helplessly, he failed to notice the crowd shifting all at once, and remained firmly planted directly in their path.

"I- I'm sorry!" he yelped as he was unabashedly jostled by a disgruntled girl in a pristinely ironed blazer. His apology was probably lost under the chatter, as she intently turned back towards the center of the room. Now that he took a closer look, the crowd seemed to actually be an enormous, somewhat disorganized line, which he had unintentionally attempted to force his way into. He belatedly felt the heat of a good number of gazes turning to him. Flushed bright red, he turned on one foot and was about to flee to safety when he heard something suspiciously familiar.

"Yuuri!"

It even sounded like his name, although he couldn't make it out for sure over the din of the crowd. But, there was no way that could actually be...

Before he could escape, or finish his thought, a hand clasped down on his shoulder and turned him around. "Yuuri!" Surely enough, no one else yelled out his first name so much, and with so much irritation. There Wolfram stood. Yuuri's eyes bugged out when he saw the beret perched at an angle over his hair, making it just a bit more wavy than usual, and the little frock draped over what appeared to be the school uniform here. "How many times do I need to call for you? Are you deaf, or are you avoiding me?"

"Wh- what?" he breathed, immensely taken aback by the sudden situation. He felt the stares of nearly everyone else in the room all centered on the two of them. "No, I'm not avoiding you or anything, I just... Wait, but why are you here? Why are you wearing their uniform!?"

Wolfram looked at him with a mixture of confusion and disgust, squinting at him almost as if to evaluate if something was wrong with him. "Why wouldn't I be wearing the uniform? What would you expect me to be wearing?"

Oh, god, was all Yuuri could think as the revelation truly sank in. Wolfram and Murata go to the same school. His dream of separating the craziness of his life at work from his eccentric friend crumbled before his eyes.

"Are you just going to stand there gaping forever?"

Wolfram's irritated inquiry jolted Yuuri out of his sudden bout of despair. He had already been envisioning the team dynamic Wolfram and Murata would have if they ever ganged up against him. He shivered in horror before his brain caught up with what Wolfram had actually said. "I'm not gaping!" he exclaimed, feeling just a tad defensive. It wasn't like there wasn't anything to gape at, however, with the cute little hat and frock his co-worker was sporting. He'd been distracted by the school uniform, however. Just because of its implications, of course.

"If you say so," Wolfram snorted. "You didn't just come in here to flirt with girls, now did you?"

"How did that turn around so fast!?" Yuuri clenched his eyes shut and shook his head in frustration. "Of course I didn't! I'm just here because... because..."

He suffered under an intense stare from Wolfram for a moment as he fumbled, trying to find a suitable answer. He didn't want to put his own head under the chopping block by mentioning Murata.

"Well, in any case," Wolfram eventually seemed to take pity on him and cut him off, although his slight glare implied that the topic was not forgotten, "I can't be away for any longer. Come on."

Before Yuuri could answer, "And what does that have to do with me!?" as he'd imagined, he found himself being pulled through the crowd by his arm. To his surprise, the crowd parted for them this time. It only figured that the pretty boy got special treatment.

Upon reaching their destination, he realized that this was because said pretty boy had been the center of attention all along. Wolfram released Yuuri's arm only to take a seat behind the easel propped up in the center of the room. He promptly picked up his paint brush and palette, only to look up and find Yuuri still simply standing and staring dumbly. "What are you waiting for? Take a seat," he said, sounding impatient from dealing with all of Yuuri's delays as he gestured with the brush to the seat across from him.

Not one to refuse an offer (although perhaps that only qualified as a demand), Yuuri plopped down into the seat before he was finished processing the situation. He noticed Wolfram peering intensely at him for a good minute before he began marking the paper in front of him with a look of deep concentration. "Wait, what? What are you doing?" Yuuri leaned forward as if to get up and take a look at the paper.

"Don't move around!" Wolfram snapped before he could make heads or tails of anything. "Isn't it obvious? I'm painting your portrait! What did you think I was here for?"

The gears turned furiously in Yuuri's head. He looked around the room one last time before it clicked. "Oh my god! That's what this is! And I just skipped the line!?"

"Honestly," Wolfram sighed as if this was all a great trial for him. He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure no one minds."

Yuuri wasn't so sure after peeking back at the girl at the front of the line. Everyone seemed to be awfully antsy, but nobody was stepping forward about it. Great, he'd just made an entire room's worth of enemies. He'd have to think twice before accepting any more invitations to this school. He apologized profusely in his heart for his unwitting crime. The more he thought about it, the less he understood about the whole situation. Commanded not to move, he found himself twitching under the stares of not only the spectators but also Wolfram, who was busily making strangely dramatic strokes on the paper before him. Well, not that Yuuri knew anything about art. It could be a perfectly normal part of portraiture. Does the cute little hat really help any, though?

"Do you usually, um..." he struggled for words, resisting the urge to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. "...Do art?"

Wolfram rolled his eyes without stopping his brush. That worried Yuuri a little. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I'm the representative for the art club!"

"Wow," Yuuri nodded, sincerely impressed. "Already? Didn't you just get here?"

There was undeniably a note of pride in the snort Wolfram answered with. He really shouldn't have considered that an answer, but even just a week or so of knowing Wolfram had changed that.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, only a few moments of painting passed undisturbed before a voice calling out, "Shibuya! Shibuya!" became audible over the crowd. Yuuri turned to see a suitably toussled Murata emerging from the throng, who looked significantly more disgruntled this time to have an uninvited interloper cutting ahead.

"Murata!" Yuuri called, smiling before he could help it. He had, after all, been searching for his friend this whole time. Not that getting his portrait done really qualified as searching, but he hadn't been given a proper choice in that matter, the way he saw it.

"Shibuya," Murata breathed as he eyed the situation from behind his spectacles. Yuuri never quite knew what to think when he did that. It usually meant he was calculating something... which rarely fared well for him. "I've been looking all over for you."

Yuuri had just enough time to say, "Then that makes two of us," before the person in front of him cleared his throat. It was only when he looked back to see Wolfram's disgruntled expression that he realized he'd been caught exactly where he hadn't wanted to be. He'd managed to unwittingly arrange the meeting of his friend and his co-worker. There was no hope. His job would be uncovered, and he would be teased for time immemorial.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Yuuri?" Wolfram asked, a single eyebrow raised in indignation. Yuuri couldn't help but wonder if it was a grave offense in Europe not to immediately introduce someone every time they walked into a room. It sure seemed to bother Wolfram an awful lot.

"Um," he started eloquently before reluctantly gesturing to Murata, who moved forward a bit to separate himself from the line. "This is Murata Ken, my friend from middle school. Murata, this is..."

"Oh, I know," Murata stopped him with a suspiciously wide smile before he could (politely, he presumed) introduce Wolfram. "I don't think there's a single person on this campus who doesn't know about the new transfer student. My question is, how have you and the school celebrity already gotten on first name basis?"

Yuuri froze completely under Murata's stare, suggestively raised eyebrow and all. As he had thought, Murata's calculating look never meant anything good for him. "Uh..."

With Yuuri remaining silent, Wolfram must have grown irritated as he exclaimed, "What, are you ashamed of our-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Yuuri shouted before he could finish, waving his arms wildly. "We just work together!"

It only occurred to him after he had spoken that Wolfram was only going to say "cafè," and he had possibly made the matter worse by leaving it ambiguous.

"I see," Murata continued to smile as he adjusted his glasses.

Yuuri groaned. That never meant anything good. At least he had somehow gotten through the question without revealing his exact workplace. He'd have to take his victories where he could, with both of these two around.

"In any case," Wolfram grumbled, pouting just slightly as he set down his brush, "I finished your portrait."

"Oh!" Yuuri perked up, excited not only to see Wolfram's artwork but to move around freely again. "Let me see!"

"Well, of course," Wolfram scoffed, but failed to hide the slight glow of pride at the interest in his work. "What would be the point of painting your portrait without showing you?"

He may have had a point this time, but Yuuri opted to ignore Wolfram's words as he took the paper the artist carefully removed from the easel. He stared. He could do nothing but stare for a good minute or so. No words came to him. Not much thought at all came to him, as a matter of fact. The page was completely covered from corner to corner with bright colors and daring shapes, with the exception of some black spots. Oh, I think I found my hair! ...Wait, this is supposed to be me!?

"Well?" Wolfram crossed his arms, a proud little smile on his face.

Yuuri looked between the painter and the portrait (was that even the right word for this?) in confused dismay. He didn't want to disappoint the hopeful look Wolfram was giving him, despite the somehow bratty way he expressed it, as if of course his work deserved praise. "Ehe," Yuuri chuckled awkwardly. "It's... nice!"

Wolfram frowned, brows slanted in suspicion. He seemed about ready to explode into a complaint when Murata, who had been peering over Yuuri's shoulder at the artwork, chimed in, "You really captured your subject," with a wide smile.

It was Yuuri's turn to feel indignant. But, Wolfram looked immensely pleased, so he decided to let it slide. "Of course," Wolfram nodded with satisfaction.

"Well, then," Yuuri yawned and stretched his arms out wide, despite only having remained still for a handful of minutes, "I should get out of your way. It seems busy in here."

"And you haven't seen my class' booth yet!" Murata piped in.

"Fine," Wolfram snapped. "If you're so eager to leave, go ahead!"

Yuuri cringed at that, but got up nonetheless. "R... Right. Good luck with your painting!"

"Bye-bye, Your Excellency!" Murata called out with a wave as he led Yuuri out of the room.

Over the chatter of the crowd, Yuuri could distinctly hear Wolfram's enraged shout of, "If I ever hear you call me that again...!"

Yuuri looked to his friend with an expression wavering between surprise and sympathy. "What was that?"

"He's gained that nickname around here," Murata chuckled. "I'm sure you can imagine why."

Yuuri had to laugh. He could certainly imagine Wolfram as a prince of some sort, haughtily ordering everyone around and wearing a big silly crown. His eyes fell to the portrait, which he had still unfolded in his hand. He looked to Murata with a conspiratory gaze and whispered, "But really... how did he get to be the representative of the art club when he paints like... this? Was it his looks, after all?" in a low tone, as if Wolfram could be behind him just listening in and waiting for a chance to be further offended.

"Who knows?" Murata shook his head, his shoulders still shaking from suppressed laughter. "His looks, huh? So he's got you already?"

"What!" Yuuri exploded, so taken aback he almost fell over. "Nothing like that! I was just stating a fact!"

"Beauty is always subjective," Murata said completely evenly, as if he were sharing a precious pearl of wisdom.

"Whatever," Yuuri frowned, shooting an irritated look at his friend. He had anticipated teasing about serving pastries part-time, but not about this! Not when there wasn't even anything to be teased about! He felt the weight of Murata's hand on his shoulder. The patronizing look of sympathy there only made his frown deepen.

"And here we are!" Murata announced before Yuuri had realized they'd even gone very far down the hallway. "The main event!"

What he found inside hardly qualified as the main event to Yuuri. A few boys and girls sat scattered around the room, looking unimaginably bored. A few of them were lethargically playing a card game in the back, even. In the center of the room stood a makeshift tent attached to the ceiling, which was decorated with a hodgepodge assortment of ornaments and lights, some of which appeared to have been taken directly out of Christmas storage. A sign hanging near the flap of the tent declared in an attempt at fancy script: Come and marvel at the mysterious powers of times past!

Yuuri blinked in confusion as a few of the students raised their heads to survey the new-comers.

"Oh, you're back," one of the girls near the front broke the silence. "I almost thought we had a customer."

"Ah, but I brought a customer!" Murata cheerfully indicated Yuuri, who looked around in further confusion at being put on the spot in such a way. There was a general cry of both delight and reluctant disbelief.

Yuuri laughed, just a tad uncomfortable. He certainly couldn't back out, despite not having even the faintest clue what he had been signed up for. "Um... Sure!"

"Great!" Murata slapped him on the back heartily, unable to contain his wide smile of mirth, before striding to the center of the room. He kneeled down, shuffling through a small pile of things before standing back up with what looked to Yuuri like a really wrinkly towel. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Murata dashed into the tent, calling over his shoulder, "Just a moment!"

All Yuuri could do was to peer around at the other students, who didn't seem to be reacting at all. He took a few hesitant steps towards the tent. "Murata...?"

"You may enter," he heard his friend's voice declare after a good minute of awkward silence. He sounded suitably dramatic and grave.

An eyebrow raised, Yuuri lifted the flap of the tent and poked his head inside. It was dark within, the only exception being a small orb which was giving off light. In the faint illumination he could see his friend seated at a table, his hands folded primly. What Yuuri now recognized as a make-shift turban, costume gem affixed to the front and all, was firmly secured over his toussled hair. Yuuri couldn't help but snort at the sight as he stepped fully into the tent.

Ignoring the audience participation, or lack thereof, Murata exclaimed, "Welcome, traveler, to this mysterious realm where the bindings of everyday life are forgotten, and anything becomes possible! Yes... even foreseeing the future!"

Yuuri suddenly understood the emptiness of the room outside. Isn't 'foreseeing the future' redundant, in the first place?

"A fortune-telling booth?" He let out an exasperated sigh.

Murata nodded, finally giving up his act and smiling. "I'm afraid it came up somehow that I knew how to do tarot readings when we were debating what to do for our booth... I couldn't really get out of it."

"They couldn't just do the stereotypical cafe or haunted house set-up?"

"That would have required effort on everyone's part," Murata explained with a strained smile.

You seemed pretty into it a second ago, Yuuri couldn't help but think. "I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff," he mused as he finally gave up and took his seat on the rickety stool positioned across the table from Murata.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Murata laughed, wiggling his eyebrows. Yuuri just rolled his eyes, but it was probably true. "I don't really do it that often. It's not good to rely on methods like this... but they certainly have worth. Particularly for someone like you, Shibuya."

Looking at Murata's pleased smile, Yuuri didn't know if he should feel gravely offended about that or not. "I mean, sure, thinking about the future isn't my favorite thing..." he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Tarot isn't only about the future. As a matter of fact..." Murata trailed off only to focus on the deck of cards Yuuri had failed to notice he'd been dutifully shuffling as they spoke, removing three of them and placing them face down in a line in front of him. He indicated the first in the row. "This card will tell us about your past."

Yuuri couldn't help but swallow uncertiainly during the pause as Murata revealed the card, undoubtedly extended for increased dramatic effect. He flipped it over to reveal a drawing of a man suspended upside down on a gallows. Yuuri frowned, not liking it one bit, although he almost wanted to laugh at the funny crook of the poor guy's leg. "At least he has the good humor to strike a pose in that situation," he mused.

"The Hanged Man," Murata explained, although the words were written on the card as well. The only indication that he had heard Yuuri's interruption was the faint curve to his lips. "He represents passivity, inactivity... a halt in progress."

The grumpy look remained planted firmly on Yuuri's face. "Are you trying to say something about me?"

"The cards," Murata chuckled. "The cards are trying to say something about you. About the past you, in any case... It's not necessarily a bad thing. We can't afford to press blindly forward all the time, Shibuya."

"A little bit of laziness is perfectly normal going into your teenage years," Yuuri grumbled an uncalled for defense, as if practiced. Not that he'd gained a sore spot from constant beratement at the (proverbial) hands of his brother. Certainly not.

"No one is saying otherwise," Murata acknowledged with a knowing (and only slightly amused) glance. "Now, shall we see about your present?"

Yuuri scoffed. "I guess."

Smiling, Murata turned the middle card to reveal an illustration of a fat baby riding a horse under an enormously massive sun.

"It definitely isn't safe to put a baby on a horse like that," was all Yuuri had to say about the revelation.

Again opting to ignore Yuuri's interpretations of the age-old cards, Murata continued the reading. "The Sun card represents joy and optimism, a new start that brings hope for the future. Hmm, anything new in your life recently, Shibuya?"

Yuuri frowned at the suspiciously bright smile his friend flashed him. "I... I guess..." He seemed to be saying that a lot. He scratched his elbow uncertainly. He had to admit that was a little eerie coming just a week or so after he'd started his first job, but he wasn't willing to subscribe to these slips of paper or anything.

"It could be anything," Murata mused. "An opportunity... a person..."

Now he understood the suspicious vibe he'd gotten from that smile. Certainly not! He shook his head, but refused to take the bate for once. To be fair, he had met one legitimately kind and somewhat sane person lately, but somehow Conrad hadn't been the first one to pop into his mind. It meant his job, anyways! Clearly! If it meant anything at all. It was still just a card.

"Well, I think you have the idea," Murata chuckled, seeing Yuuri's troubled face.

"Let's just move on," Yuuri huffed.

"Interested all of a sudden, are you, Shibuya?" Murata raised his eyebrows as he flipped the final card. "And, as for your future..."

This time the picture was of a lady reclining on a big red couch, lifting up a sceptre dramatically despite her impassive expression. Yuuri just blinked down at the card.

"No comment this time?" Murata wondered.

Yuuri shot him a baleful glance.

"Anyways," the divinator continued with a victorious smile, "the Empress represents fertility and pleasure. She usually has to do with successful romantic desire..."

Under Murata's unabashed gaze of suggestive glee, Yuuri could only glower. "As if..." He didn't even have a crush on anyone!

"You know," Murata started, and he immediately knew it was going to be bad, "both this and the Sun card can mean... the gift of a new life into the world..."

Yuuri didn't even bother being surprised. He just groaned. "That's not even funny. No girlfriend in my whole fifteen years, and then you want to tell me my love life progresses that quickly!?"

Chuckling, Murata shook his head as he shuffled the cards back into the deck. "It doesn't necessarily indicate the immediate future. I imagine you'll see what it means in time."

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "I mean, not that I'd complain if I suddenly stumble into a beautiful girlfriend, but..."

"It never hurts to start thinking about how to be a good parent, Shibuya," Murata sang, tapping the deck against the table to straighten it out. Yuuri only sighed. "In any case, I'm only an amateur, and each card has a plethora of meanings... You don't really need to worry about it. Just enjoy the spring time of your youth!"

Yuuri remained highly skeptical.

"Fine, you don't need to believe it at all," Murata answered his silence. "After all, it only cost you 200 yen..."

"What!" Yuuri jumped up out of his seat. "I'm paying for this!?"

"Well, of course." Murata had the gall to look just a bit indignant. "What did you think I meant by 'customer'? Accruing funds is the point of a school festival, after all... We're experiencing a sad drought, and so the price has doubled in recent times. We can't all be as popular as His Excellency's class, you see."

It took Yuuri a second of grumbling to himself about how he'd been swindled for the realization to sink in. He waved the bizarre portrait he'd been carrying around all this time wildly. "I was supposed to pay for this!?"

"Oh, you didn't?" Murata's smile gave him a knowing vibe he didn't quite like. "That's strange. I seem to recall it was 500 yen for a five-minute portrait..."

They're making a killing! For these ugly things! Yuuri managed to think while still freaking out. His shoulders slumped. "I... I didn't just skip the line, I even stole my portrait..."

This news made the episode even less sensible to his already confused brain. And yet, the unique portrait found its way into the top drawer of his desk at home.

-Sunday Morning-

Yuuri's legs felt a little creaky still as he jogged down the side street where Devil's Food stood, looking as out of place as ever. He'd decided to skip his morning run in order to make it in earlier for his shift than he technically had to. He felt just the tiniest bit guilty about taking the day off all of a sudden yesterday. And no, he no longer felt guilty even the slightest about making off with a free "portrait" from Wolfram, not after the rest of the school festival! Honestly, just because he'd been roped into advertising for the fortune telling booth by Murata, and had tried out advertising it to the girls in line, didn't give Wolfram any right to yell at him like that... It wasn't like his dedicated admirers were going to abandon their places in line to get their fortune told by Murata in a turban. And he had most certainly not been flirting. Not that that should have anything to do with Wolfram! He must have gotten possessive over his fans already. Beautiful people must not understand the struggles of the rest of the world... But bickering with Wolfram had been the last of his troubles. No, Murata had wiggled his way into coming back home to the Shibuya residence for dinner. And that meant nothing other than the completely killer team-up getting together again... His mother and her dear Muraken had wreaked havoc like none other.

And so, Yuuri was positively exhausted even after his usually invigorating morning run. Nevertheless, he flung the now familiar doors to the cafè open with a smile, despite the "Closed" sign still hanging in the window. "Good morning!"

Conrad, the one currently in the main room, looked up from where he was stationed over the register, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Good morning, Yuuri. You're early."

Yuuri nodded, just a little proud of himself. "Yeah! I thought I'd try to make up for missing yesterday."

Looking a little sheepish, Conrad smiled. "Ah, yes. I'll admit it was quite hectic with just Gwendal and I..."

As he trailed off, Yuuri's mouth hung open. It took his tired brain just a few seconds to catch up with the conversation. Wolfram had been at the school festival, too... "Oh my god! We both took the day off!" No wonder Conrad had hesitated to give it to him. "I'm so sorry!"

"There's nothing to apologize for," Conrad smiled, as usual.

That wasn't particularly comforting to the frenzied new hire. "How on Earth did that even work? You were the only employee out on the floor?"

"Actually," Conrad chuckled softly, "I wasn't."

Yuuri gaped. "It can't be...!"

"Yes, Gwen helped out during the rushes in between batches."

Yuuri's mouth open and closed a few times before he broke out into laughter. He could just imagine Gwendal's fearsome face as he carefully packaged a perfectly decorated little cake and handed it to some trembling customer who was probably half his size. He and the constantly smiling Conrad must have made quite a sight behind the counter together. "I think I'm all the more sorry, though."

"In that case," Conrad grinned at him, "You should just put extra effort into the promise you made in exchange."

It wasn't that promises weren't important to him, but it took Yuuri a moment to remember deal he'd made with Conrad. "Oh," he breathed.

Conrad raised an eyebrow. "Are things not going well?"

"Well," Yuuri hummed. "It's more like... it's hard to tell with him."

And that was the truth. Despite Conrad's advice, he still couldn't read Wolfram most of the time. Maybe he should have asked Murata to use his cards to help him with that. ...Fortune-telling worked that way, didn't it?

Before Conrad could respond, the door to the back opened. It was so subdued that Yuuri was afraid it was Gwendal, but he distinctly heard, "Big bro-..." before the door closed and he met eyes with Wolfram. Much to his surprise, his co-worker actually visibly brightened upon seeing him. "Yuuri! You're early!"

Is it that much of a surprise to everyone that I'm a little early? "Yeah!" he cheered, feeling a little embarrassed for a reason he couldn't name.

"Perfect," Wolfram smiled, indeed looking pleased. Yuuri was completely mystified. "I've been thinking about it, and where did you hang the portrait?"

Yuuri froze. He looked to Conrad. Conrad only smiled his usual smile, although perhaps with somewhat more mirth than normal. He looked to his feet. They provided no answers, although perhaps he could have made a run for it. But that would have ruined the entire point of coming in early. He finally looked back to Wolfram, who still seemed to be eagerly awaiting his answer. No one must have had the heart to tell him he's an awful artist...

"Um," Yuuri began, his gaze shifting down and to the side. "Well, you see, I put it in my drawer at home..."

As expected, Wolfram did not look happy. But he hadn't had the heart to lie to that face, either. His first sign of danger was Wolfram's crossed arms. "What!" he shouted, leaving no hint of a question in the word. "I went out of my way and put so much thought into capturing your likeness, and you just shut it up in a drawer! Art needs to be out in the open to truly be alive!"

My likeness!? Yuuri reeled back. What must he think of me? Putting aside his horror, which he could deal with later, he returned to the matter at hand. He didn't need any more than the first sign of danger-this was clearly a Perilous Situation. Fortunately, over the past week he felt he'd gained a few tools in dealing with such circumstances. "No, no, I appreciate it, really!" Although the slight cringe on his face as he raised his hands in surrender probably didn't help his case. "I just... I just didn't want to stick a pin through it, you know? And I didn't really have any other way to hang it up!"

A heart-pounding moment passed as Wolfram considered his excuse. It seemed somewhat brittle even to Yuuri himself, but for some reason it did seem to pacify the enraged artist. Eventually, he nodded thoughtfully. "For a wimp, you actually have a surprisingly good appreciation for art," he mused with a hint of approval.

"Ehe," Yuuri laughed awkwardly, completely abashed and indeed ashamed for being praised for his excuse for his own carelessness. Now, he had absolutely no chance to let Wolfram know his art could use improvement. If he found out that he had put it in the drawer because it would have been downright eerie having it up on his wall, Yuuri wouldn't stand a chance. He'd never be able to enter the cafè again.

"Alright," Wolfram exclaimed, breaking him out of his fearsome reverie. "In that case, I'll just have to paint you a proper portrait some time. Only because you liked that one so much, of course!"

"Wh- what...!" Yuuri gasped before he could stop himself. Wolfram had his eyes closed and his chin turned upwards, his arms still crossed. There was just a slight dusting of pink across his cheeks. He must have felt really happy about his artwork being appreciated. Yuuri felt immensely guilty all of a sudden. As he hesitated, Wolfram cracked one eye open to evaluate the cause of the silence. "W, wow!" He immediately piped up. "You don't have to... really!"

Wolfram snorted. "Just accept my kindness with gratitude!"

Yuuri was completely defeated. "Right... Thanks."

Maybe Wolfram was the forgetful type, and they could all just completely move on from this whole portraiture affair. Even Yuuri could see how unlikely that was, however.

Just as Conrad, who had remained pointedly silent throughout their exchange (or so it seemed to Yuuri), cleared his throat, the bell chimed indicating the door opening. Yuuri immediately turned and backed out of the way. He had forgotten to actually move into the store with all of the commotion since he'd come in, despite the great effort he'd made to arrive early. No one else seemed quite so anxious over the sudden entrance into the cafè. Perhaps the brothers were expecting someone, but once Yuuri saw the early customers he couldn't imagine they were usual visitors who could stroll right in before opening.

The first to enter was a man with wavy blonde hair that was really astonishingly similar to Wolfram's. As a matter of fact, Yuuri couldn't help but wonder for a second if this stranger was his father. He was a truly impressive sight, although Yuuri soon realized that this guy actually wasn't much taller than he was. He couldn't actually see much of his face due to the rather over-sized pair of sunglasses he was sporting. Beside those, he was wearing entirely white. Combined with his hair, it made him just a bit too dazzling in the morning sun pouring in through the open door, which he was graciously holding for the lady entering after him. She was rather lanky and had some of the longest, straightest black hair he'd ever seen. Unfortunately, she also had a similar pair of dark sunglasses covering her eyes. Yuuri imagined she'd be quite pretty. She was wearing a black Winter coat-as a matter of fact, everything on her was black other than the long, white scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. Yuuri frowned at that. He imagined they were one of those couples who went around together dressed to match. On top of that, they looked like mega-celebrities in disguise from the paparazzi, despite being in a local cafè on a side-street before opening. He suspected there weren't any cameramen looming on the corner of his block, just waiting to spot them.

"Um," he started with much less refined manners than he'd imagined, "We actually haven't opened yet, so if you would just kindly wait..."

Hearing that, both Wolfram and Conrad looked over in surprise. Wolfram simply looked irritated and huffed, "Could you not read the sign?"

Conrad, on the other hand, straightened up and cut his brother off as quickly as possible. "Please, pardon us!" he broke in with a surprising amount of urgency. He hastily dropped the bills he'd been counting for the register and abandoned the counter to approach the guests. He bowed-and kept bowing lower and lower as Yuuri watched in amazement. "We're truly honored that you've come to visit. We owe you so much."

Stunned, Yuuri looked between all of the people in the room before settling on Wolfram, who looked possibly more bewildered than he did. At least he wasn't the only one completely left behind.

"Don't concern yourself over it," the one with the long hair answered, flashing Conrad a tiny, polite smile.

Yuuri tried not to be too visibly shocked that this was actually an adult male, judging from his voice. He looked at the still silent party, the blonde man, only to find that he was grinning widely. His aura positively exuded confidence. Yuuri cringed. So he and Wolfram just insulted some really important guys? He bowed just a bit shallowly in apology, despite having no clue who they could be. Wolfram showed no sign of following suit.

"Who is this?" the blonde stranger spoke for the first time, indicating Yuuri with a wave of his hand.

"Allow me to introduce you," Conrad straightened up with a smile, dropping a hand on Yuuri's shoulder. "This is Shibuya Yuuri, our only new hire so far. And, I'm sure you've guessed, but that's Wolfram back there."

Yuuri peeked behind him to see that Wolfram had reeled back in surprise. He looked kind of offended. Well, it must be strange to find out some strangers randomly know you.

"Hmm," the shorter man answered thoughtfully. He couldn't really tell, what with the sunglasses at all, but Yuuri thougt he felt the weight of his gaze on him.

"Yuuri, Wolfram, this is..." Conrad dragged off uncertainly, glancing at the guests.

"Don't bother," the blonde man waved his hand dismissively. "We only came here to discuss something with you and Gwendal."

"Of course," Conrad promptly dropped the introduction. "If you'd just follow me, then..."

Yuuri watched in silence as the glamorous strangers followed Conrad into the back room. So they really were mega-celebs? With concealed identities and all? He looked to Wolfram again to confirm that he was, indeed, just as clueless as he was.

Right, they were supposed to be preparing the cafe for opening. He'd have to forget the mega-celebs, as he'd dubbed them, for now.

And forget he did.