A/N: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and I hope if you don't you at least have some time off and are enjoying life! This chapter is late and the chapters will soon be growing shorter, I'm afraid... I wasn't able to catch up on writing due to finals. There's still a bit pre-written before I'm at risk of dropping the monthly schedule. I hope I'll still be able to update regularly, but I still have dozens of pages of thesis left to write! Please bear with me!

Devil's Food

Chapter Five: Cheesecake

Just how many groceries did a family of three need?

Yuuri stared at the head of cabbage resting in his palm as if it would provide the answer. He had been dragged out shopping with his mother just the other day, and they had practically bought out the vegetable aisle already. Nevertheless, she had asked him to stop by the local shrine's market day to pick up some more. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that this most likely meant that Curry Day was on the horizon. Even Shouri loved Curry Day. No one could say no to it.

His contemplation of the cabbage didn't leave him quite so distracted as to fail to notice a sudden blur of motion to his side. He glanced away at last to see a small girl with a head positively bursting with curls. She was wearing a white dress dotted with sunflowers. While appreciating the cute sight, he couldn't help but notice the apple she was holding, obscured by her other elbow. A hint of suspicion nagging at him, Yuuri looked to the shopkeeper. He appeared completely absorbed in conversation with one of the elderly ladies Yuuri recognized from around the neighborhood.

No sooner had Yuuri realized this than the girl disappeared from his peripheral vision.

"Hey!" he called out before he could stop himself, glancing desperately back to the shop keeper. The girl barely twitched in response before continuing to flee.

In moments like this one, rational thought had a tendency to prove too slow to prevent Yuuri from action. His legs moved much faster than his brain could hope to. And so, he found himself running off in pursuit of this presumably nefarious apple thief. His mind all too quickly took on the focus he felt while running on the baseball field, and before he knew it he couldn't see the little girl as anything but the opposing team's runner trying to make a turn-about home run. Okay, so maybe the metaphor didn't quite hold, but he went with it.

She was fast, despite her size, but they'd only run for about half a block before Yuuri could reach out and grab her shoulder.

"Hey, hold up," he called again, trying to get her to turn to him without jerking her too harshly. After all, nefarious apple thief or not, she was simply an adorable young girl. He could almost relate to Shouri's brother complex if he imagined having a little sister like her.

Much to his surprise, said adorable young girl whipped her head, bouncy little curls and all, around to glare at him with a ferocity that rivaled even Wolfram. She shook herself, but Yuuri simply adjusted his grip.

"Stealing is bad!" Yuuri exclaimed before anything else could happen. Even the girl looked somewhat shocked out of her defiance by the simple proclamation. "In the first place, you can't take something that isn't yours! But most importantly, you have to realize that the economy relies on give and take! Even just one apple disappearing could mean the collapse of the locally based economy over time! Didn't your parents ever..."

He trailed off, not because his one-sided argument had run out of steam, but rather because of the stunned and confused look the girl had pointed at his other hand. As he spoke, he had been making impassioned gestures to emphasize his points, but only now did he actually bother to look at said hand. It was still gripping tightly the cabbage he'd been evaluating earlier. His mouth hung open as he stared in disbelief.

"You didn't pay for that, did you?" the girl asked quietly, her mouth twisted into a little frown.

Yuuri swallowed, and nearly dropped the offensive cabbage in question. "N- no, this is...! Well, I mean, I didn't, but I didn't mean to..."

A heavy silence followed as the girl glared at him.

Heaving a sigh, Yuuri dropped his hand from her shoulder. "Fine, you're right. I guess I stole, too."

The girl looked up at him, her already big eyes exceptionally wide. She had apparently forgotten her earlier hurry to get away.

"We all make mistakes," Yuuri looked down at her with an abashed smile. "So let's go apologize, together."

The returning silence as the girl simply blinked at Yuuri's outstretched hand, which slowly began to twitch uncomfortably from the suspense, was broken by a faint rumbling. It was only when the girl reluctantly placed a hand over her stomach that it struck Yuuri that her tummy was growling. She suddenly refused to meet his eyes, but her feet remained planted on the cement of the sidewalk.

"Hungry, huh?" Yuuri smiled warmly, shifting the cabbage from one hand to the other as he looked around to gain his bearings. His jaw almost dropped when he realized that they were only a few storefronts away from his work place. "Tell you what, I'll treat you to something nice, if you promise to go back to the market with me."

The slightly narrowed glance the girl shot him positively screamed of apprehension.

Undeterred, Yuuri slowly walked off, determined to lead her to the cafe. "Come on," he entreated softly, "they have the best sweets around, right here on this street."

He thought he heard the faint sound of her stomach complaining again, but it was quickly overtaken by little, rushed footsteps. Yuuri's smile widened. The walk would be short, but he was determined to make the most out of it. For her to be stealing a single apple despite being so well dressed, there must have been something else going on with this girl. She was a total stranger, but his conscience wouldn't rest easy if he just left her on her own.

"So," he started as casually as he could manage, "what's your name?"

Although she didn't pause in her shuffling after him, the girl remained silent for such a long minute that Yuuri almost thought she was just going to leave him hanging. As a matter of fact, they had already reached the cafe's storefront, and he was just about to give up and push open the door when he heard a quiet voice from behind him answer, "...Greta."

Yuuri spun around to look at her, outright beaming. "Greta, huh? What a pretty name!"

Fortunately, he was no longer surprised at meeting foreigners living here after the cafe crew. Still, looking at her olive skin and big brown eyes, he couldn't help but think that Greta could be a big hit as a child actress or something. Her Japanese sounded perfect, too. Not that he'd actually heard much of it, though.

He eventually realized that she was busily staring at her own feet and waiting for him to stop blocking the way while he was busy admiring her shining future. Ever so slightly embarrassed, he spun around and opened the door at last. The familiar bell announced his entrance, but for the first time he stopped to hold the door open for his little companion. She scampered in after him as quickly as she could, muttering something he could hardly make out but assumed to be a "thank you."

As the door swung back shut, Yuuri looked up to find Conrad smiling despite his otherwise slightly wide eyed look. "Hey, Conrad," he waved a little as he headed over to the counter.

"Hello, Yuuri," Conrad answered, his eyes narrowing with a look Yuuri suspected could be defined as mischievous. His suspicions were confirmed as his boss continued. "Your daughter is absolutely lovely."

Yuuri was left in stunned silence. Fortunately, a loud crash from the back room spoke adequately for his emotions.

"Ah, no, she's not my..." He began, just as the door behind the counter came flying open.

"What?" Wolfram came bursting through, his hand still posed dramatically against the door. His face was pure red.

Conrad was already chuckling. The alleged daughter in question was herself quite a bit red, looking in confusion between all the strangers who were making such a fuss. Yuuri, alas, froze up into a shocked silence.

This left Wolfram to approach the counter, eyes narrowed as they darted from Yuuri to their little guest. "Just how much of a philanderer do you have to be to have a child at our age? I should have known someone with your looks would be... and just what are you doing with that... cabbage?"

"Someone with my looks? What is that even supposed to mean!?" Yuuri cried aloud before he could stop himself. He was distracted from his attempted analysis of Wolfram's rant, however, by the realization that he had started clutching the cabbage in a death grip at some point during this latest lecture. With an abashed laugh, he let it plop down on a nearby table. A stray leaf he'd partially severed with his nails came floating down onto the tabletop. His laughter grew strained. "There... there is a good reason for this..."

He was distracted from his desperate attempt at saving himself by a precious, clear ring of laughter. He turned back to see the little girl, suddenly dubbed his daughter, giggling hard enough that her shoulders shook slightly. It was the first time he'd seen her smile-okay, perhaps they had just met, so it wasn't that surprising. When she noticed everyone looking to her in surprise (maybe Wolfram was still glaring a little, regardless), she immediately hushed herself, shyly covering her mouth with her hand.

"I apologize, Yuuri," Conrad began again, finally taking responsibility for the mess he'd created. "Who is your friend?"

Yuuri glanced somewhat nervously at Greta before smiling widely. "Her name's Greta. We met at the market this morning."

Although he seemed to have calmed down about the daughter scandal, Wolfram still snorted. "And you brought her here?"

"I don't see what's wrong with taking my friend out for some sweets," Yuuri muttered, approaching the counter and looking into the glass case. He tried to scout out how Greta was feeling from the reflection, but he could only see her head turned down and her hands tugging at the hem of her dress. Poor thing! I won't let that wolf antagonize you!

Conrad chuckled softly. Yuuri couldn't claim to know exactly why, but then again, he rarely did. He felt the weight of Wolfram's skeptical gaze on him. It kind of frightened him that he could already distinctly identify it.

"How about," Yuuri hummed thoughtfully, "Two slices of cheesecake?"

He had no way of knowing what Greta wanted, of course, but he knew he sure loved cheesecake as a kid. And it certainly had a European vibe, and probably, maybe, there was a chance Greta was European. Okay, so maybe he had no clue. He was so lost in thought as he absently watched Conrad preparing and wrapping their slices of cheesecake, carefully avoiding smudging the delicate threads of caramel draped over the top, that the sound of the bell over the doorway chiming gave him a jolt.

Much to his surprise, he turned around to find the floor behind him empty-with the exception of his tattered cabbage sitting on the table.

Wolfram had smiled at him a minimum of three times today.

Yuuri kept glancing over at his coworker, only to confirm that he was still washing down the coffee brewer with a somewhat perky air. Alright, perhaps that part was only Yuuri's imagination, but he could swear he saw a certain saunter in his movements. He looked away so as not to be discovered before he could be sure. Now, it wasn't that he wasn't happy about the sudden change of heart in Wolfram (if three smiles or so could count as such). As a matter of fact, he'd thought ever since they'd first met that smiling would suit him so much better. It would turn out that he had been correct. And now here he was, trying to take inventory with butterflies in his stomach.

Shortcakes... Three, so we sold two since I started... Cheesecakes... Still five, maybe the strawberry drip isn't very popular?

He had just given up on trying to understand the fickle hearts of the pastry starved masses and moved on to counting the apple danishes when it hit him. Cheesecake! It had to be the cheesecake!

Before he could stop himself, his head whipped around to look back to Wolfram. He did indeed seem fairly cheery, and fortunately he had yet to notice the increased scrutiny he was under. This merry mood, Yuuri thought, had to be related to the cheesecake. It was the only thing he'd done recently that Wolfram had not criticized, and he had seemed somewhat pleased to receive the extra slice of the rich delight he'd ordered for Greta before she'd up and disappeared. He'd thought his smirk seemed more like a sincere smile, but had assumed he was imagining things. Yuuri continued his observation, mystified despite his glimmer of understanding. So, Wolfram liked sweets that much, then?

Mysterious beauties... One, like every day...

Was he doing Conrad a disservice? He hummed to himself and was about to return to counting the pastries while contemplating the fine distinction between "beautiful" and "handsome" when the bell chimed.

"Welcome!" Yuuri started, looking up with a smile immediately on his face. When it was only him and Wolfram on the floor, there was a wordless arrangement that as much customer service as possible fell on him. He didn't particularly mind-he'd always liked talking to people.

The smile, however, fell straight off of his face when his brain processed what he saw before him. There, standing grinning in the doorway, was a familiarly slightly scruffy kid in his school uniform and huge circle frame glasses.

"M- Murata!" he cried, arms flailing slightly as if he were searching for a way to hide his identity. Perhaps he could pretend to just be a particularly pushy customer who had weaseled his way behind the counter? ...And into the uniform?

"Hey, Shibuya," Murata smiled, not displaying a hint of surprise as he made his way over to the counter. "You guys do espresso, don't you?"

Yuuri heard a snort to his side, which he recognized by now as expressing distaste bordering on outright disgust. Ah, there went Wolfram's good mood, it would seem. "Of course we do," his co-worker answered as he set the cloth he'd been using down with just the slightest excess of force. "We're a café."

"Of course," Murata echoed, again failing to show any upset at Wolfram's atrocious idea of customer service. "I'll take a café mocha, then."

Yuuri laughed sheepishly as the sound of the espresso machine heating up took over the cafe.

"You know," his friend interjected, leaning an elbow on the counter and bending over slightly. "His Excellency here's workplace is practically the talk of the school! I just had to come check it out for myself."

Yuuri swore he heard Wolfram outright growl, but he chose to pretend it was just the espresso machine grinding some beans. It struck him that he should have known he couldn't have escaped this encounter ever since meeting Wolfram at the school festival. He'd said too much! "So you knew," he acquiesced with a sigh.

"Uh-huh," Murata answered with just a hint of smugness. "You could have just told me."

Yuuri gave him a blank look.

A coffee mug came sailing down the counter. The café mocha certainly smelled as appetizing as ever, but the mocha drizzle was a mess of jagged lines. He regretted not looking over to see how violently Wolfram must have been pouring the sweet stuff onto the poor, innocent drink. It must have been quite the sight.

"My gratitude, Your Excellency," Murata drawled.

This time, there was no denying that Wolfram growled. "I hear enough of that foolish nickname at school!"

"I apologize," Murata paused, and Yuuri looked anxiously between them as the unspoken "Your Excellency" hung in the air. "It's simply a habit at this point."

For a seemingly endless moment, no one spoke. Yuuri listened intently to the sound of Murata sipping his coffee, which he opted to do while still brazenly leaning on the counter. If the odd twitch his eyes had taken on was any indication, this seemed to bother Wolfram immensely.

"C'mon, Wolf," Yuuri started, in his best "I'm the peace-maker please don't kill me" tone, "It's a compliment, at least! You should have heard what they called me back in elementary school!"

The look Wolfram shot him spoke volumes as to his disagreement with that sentiment. The smile Murata suddenly wrapped around the rim of his coffee mug, however, didn't seem willing to share anything with Yuuri's confused mind.

"He's right," Murata mused. "In any case, if that nickname's no good, what about 'Wolf'?"

Yuuri stood up straight, his eyes wide. He hadn't been thinking enough before speaking lately, but this was bad. Okay, he didn't normally do that enough, either, but regardless. He had firmly intended not to pick up on the brothers' nickname for Wolfram.

Fortunately, Wolfram's ire seemed focused on his friend at the moment. "Absolutely not," he barked, crossing his arms over his chest. "And get your elbows off of our counter. I'll need to clean it again now."

"Now, now," Murata chided, but nevertheless promptly removed himself from the counter, cradling his mug in both hands. "That's no attitude to show your classmate who kindly came to visit you... unless you forgot already?"

Feeling more than a tad helpless, Yuuri watched as Murata grinned and Wolfram visibly bristled. "Oh, you're in the same class?" he cut in, trying to force as much mindless pleasantry as he could into his voice.

"It's only an elective," Wolfram groaned.

"Our school prince here," Murata explained with a gesture, "didn't even notice my humble self in his art class... until he saw you and me together."

Yuuri couldn't help but smile at that. Himself, he could remember all of his classmate's names back to probably middle school, but it was all too easy to imagine Wolfram not bothering to remember anyone's name or face. If the tint of red to his cheeks was any indicator, however, Wolfram did not find it quite so amusing. "Well, he didn't move here all that long ago, to be fair..."

"Right," Murata nodded, dropping his now empty mug down on the counter with a solid clunk. "In any case, I didn't just stop by to say hello to you two. You see, I ran into Mama at the store the other day..."

Before he could stop it, a groan escaped Yuuri's lips. "My mom was at the store again?" There was a chance this was an event of greater scale than even Curry Day. He heard some rustling and footsteps from the back room. Well, they certainly had had the floor to themselves for long enough. He only hoped it wasn't Gwendal coming to yell at them for chatting on the job. The resident baker had never done nor threatened to do anything of the sort, but Yuuri just could imagine how terrifying it would be if he did.

"Mama...?" Wolfram muttered, his narrowed glance passing between Yuuri and Murata.

"She told me we were all welcome to stop by for dinner next week. Especially your co-workers. I believe she said 'the devilishly handsome man behind the counter'?" Murata finished with an all too wide grin.

Yuuri groaned just as the door to the back opened. He could see now that it was only Conrad, who looked perfectly calm despite their illicit chatting, but he was lost in thought about the upcoming ordeal next week. Of course, that was why the preparations for Curry Day had gotten so out of hand. His mother was planning on gathering Murata and the cafe crew... using her delicious curry as a ploy to trap her son in endless humiliation... He could already see the sneer of amusement and disgust sure to twist Wolfram's pretty face when he saw those photos of him as a child wearing frilly dresses... He could hear the endless bad jokes Conrad would surely make about it for weeks to come... And, worst of all, he couldn't even imagine how Gwendal would react...

When Yuuri tuned back in to the real world, he heard Conrad asking warmly, "...A friend of Yuuri's, I presume?"

"Ah, yeah," Yuuri answered, still somewhat distracted by Murata's silent smile. He wanted to describe it as a "knowing" smile, but he couldn't even begin to guess what would warrant that. And, looking at his friend again, the smile seemed just about as innocent as his usual one. It was really the glasses sheen you had to look out for.

"I couldn't help but overhear," Conrad admitted, smiling serenely nevertheless. "Please, Yuuri, simply let us know the time and we would be positively honored to join your family for dinner. Your mother is all too kind. Right, Wolf?"

If he didn't know any better, Yuuri would have described Wolfram as looking slightly proud as he nodded. "Of course."

"Great," Yuuri said through the most forced smile he could remember making in recent history. "I guess it's decided, then."

And so, no matter how valiantly Yuuri had fought, Murata had not only wormed his way into the cafe, but also managed to arrange the meeting of all the dangerous people in his life in his home in not much more than a week's time. It may not seem like the end of the world-but the real issue stood unanswered. After all, his co-worker and bosses had already met the firestorm that was his mother... but they remained blissfully ignorant as to his older brother.

There was no longer anything to do but to resign himself.