Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Forgotten ❯ Morning after ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Wolfram and Yuuri, others mentioned.

A/N: The reason why Greta referred to herself in third person: It’s a part of how young Japanese children talk. I was attempting to stay in character, a bit. If you listen to the subtitled version, you’ll notice that Greta will do so. As before, this story is for shit and giggles and fun. I keep telling myself that it’s not a masterwork, and I think it’s funny that when I go for a very popular pairing, I get a lot more reviews.

For the sake of argument, Yuuri was unconscious about three days before he woke up, and Wolfram was up some time beforehand.

Yuuri didn’t sleep at all that night, staring up at the stars from his bedroom.

“Why did he do that for me?” he muttered, wanting to rant at something, someone, but his usual rant person was not in the room.

No, Wolfram had his own room again, not even knowing that he usually slept in the same bed as his king.

His king grunted.

He felt bad that part of him was happy to have his room to himself again, even if the quiet was unnerving. The knowledge of the reason that Wolfram had saved him was because he loved him… Yuuri had known the blond boy had cared but this was ridiculous!

Getting up, he turned toward the door, and found his shoes. He was Maou; he could very well run around in his pajamas if he wanted to…

He found a bench in one of the recently repaired courtyards and sat down, swinging his feet.

“Oooh… I don’t like guys like that! I mean, he’s pretty and all but he’s a guy!”

“Ah, I would think you’d be a little more honest with yourself than that,” someone interrupted his reverie. Head shooting up, he saw Murata.

“Eh?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re very discreet with your crush on Weller-kyo.”

“HUH?”

“You weren’t?” Murata blinked. “You were so worried about him, the soft glances, the pregnant silences…”

Yuuri felt his face flame. “I- I,” he stuttered, stomach twisting.

“I thought this would give you a chance to clear up your little sexuality problem,” Murata said, sticking his tongue out. “Of course, considering Julia’s feelings for Conrad…”

Yuuri winced.

“Though that would mean you also had feelings for Aldebert…”

Yuuri winced again. He would not admit the bizarre soft spot he had for the tall blond giant, that had shown itself after Aldebert had kidnapped him.

“Are you saying I like guys because Julia did?”

“So you do like them?”

Yuuri whimpered. “That was not fair and you know it.”

Murata laughed, and then turned away. “Our past lives affect us even if we don’t want it. But you can pick him now, if you want. There is utterly nothing holding you back. You can find a woman; you could court Weller-kyo… You could probably date a Bear Bee but that might be pushing it…”

“But that’s not fair to-“

“Wolfram doesn’t remember what happened.” Murata sighed. “He will never remember most of the time since he met you. You would not be honoring his sacrifice if you lived your life pining for his lost memories.”

“But I don’t love him!” Yuuri stood up, tugging his hair.

“Methinks he doth protest too much,” Murata smirked. “Really… the fact that Wolfram is amazingly beautiful never crossed your mind?”

Yuuri’s eyes bulged and his face turned even redder. “That has nothing to do with this!”

“Oh-ho! So you had noticed.” Murata’s smile was positively evil now.

“I’m not like that! It’s weird!”

“You are in a different world. Its perfectly acceptable here, if rare.”

“But it’s so weird!”

“You’re the one who says a person should be able to love who they want, if I recall your speeches about letting Mazoku and humans marry is correct. That taboo was as strident as the one about homosexuality in our world… And let’s face this as well: Even if it’s not talked about, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen there. It’s weird. So?”

“But I LIKE GIRLS!” Yuuri was pulling out his hair.

“You can like girls all you want. There is nothing wrong with that. Just don’t shut out the possibility of a being able to love a guy. If you really feel nothing for any of the guys here, that’s okay.” Murata flicked a finger against the side of Yuuri’s head.

“Ouch!”

“But get rid of those stupid blinders.” His tone was ancient and sad. “If you do the “right thing” and aren’t with the person who has your heart, you’ll regret it not just in this life, but in the next, too.”

Yuuri stared, and looked down at his hands. “Stupid Wolfram…”

“Well, maybe this is a kindness for him.” The Great Sage looked thoughtful. “You will get to follow your heart without restraint, and he can be free to love someone else. It was really pathetic, even if it was cute. Following you around even when being on water made him so sick he couldn’t stand. Following you and risking his brother’s wrath, helping humans even when he was told his whole life they were below him. Even adopting Greta in spirit, if not legally.” Murata shrugged, and snapped his fingers. “Poof, it’s all gone. There’s nothing to feel guilty about, you know. You didn’t love him, so all he’s done is free himself of his fixation on you.”

Yuuri’s fists clenched. “All he’s done is put me in his debt!”

“No, all he did was save the one thing that mattered most to him.”

The king couldn’t take it anymore- he sprinted away, tears streaming down his face.

He couldn’t think. Stupid Murata! Stupid Wolfram! Stupid ME! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Morning came quickly, waking Wolfram von Bielefeld from his sleep, and wondered why the dimensions of the room seemed wrong.

The bed was the one he could remember since walking up from his long sickness, blinking slowly into the light.

The light was coming in from the wrong side of the room. The bed was a shade too soft. It was most definitely too cold.

“I’ll have to ask the maids to warm it for me tonight,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes. He was sleeping as he always had in the past- in the nude. Yet it felt very odd to feel cloth rubbing against skin as it was, like he should have been wearing more clothes.

“We have a new Maou,” he muttered, stretching and looking at himself in his mirror. The man who looked back was different from what he remembered; though nothing drastic. Aging like Weller would not make him physically that much older than he was now, but he was more than a shade taller, his chest and shoulders wider, his face having lost some of its baby roundness.

He shook his head. He didn’t feel older.

He just felt strange. Or maybe he just thought he should feel strange…

Getting dressed took a few minutes, because he had to find something that fit him comfortably. He still had command over his troops, who seemed to care not a whit that he was handicapped now, but he wanted to improve his sword work. Weller could compete with full Mazoku easily…

Maybe his brother would help? He winced at the thought. Weller had been as much father as brother to him growing up, and when he had learned that his hero was actually half human… Would grow old and die so long before him, would- he stopped that line of thought. The ruts on that mental road would catch him later, but he had other things to do.

He sighed heavily, forgoing his blue coat and lacing up a large white shirt, and finding a very old blue vest of Weller’s, at the bottom of his wardrobe. It would do for now.

Dressed for practice, he grabbed his sword and yawned, heading downstairs. Weller was already there, talking to the new Maou that had appeared when Wolfram was ill.

He’s pretty, was the first thing that had popped into his head yesterday. The Great Sage, another figure to mysteriously appear while he was ill, had told him that this Maou had come from another world, and not only that, he was “different”.

He was a pacifist. Wolfram had more than a little trouble wrapping his mind around it.

The Maou was smiling and nodding at the people, and Wolfram realized with a bit of a jolt that his stomach had butterflies in it. The people of the palace seemed to truly love this Maou…

Unlike his mother…

“Wolfram?”

He was still staring at the Maou when he realized his brother was calling his name.

“Ah,” he said, acknowledging him, “Yes?”

“We should start practice,” his older half brother said, smiling slightly and following Wolfram’s eyes. The Maou was looking back at him warily, his huge black eyes sad.

What was his problem?

“Ready!” The two soldiers drew, and began.

Wolfram grunted. His muscles were still watery from his illness, and his balance and reaction time were all off as they fought. Yet the King was watching-

-He couldn’t let himself do badly in front of that wimp-

The unbidden thought threw off his timing, and the young prince found himself planted in the dirt and kissing steel.

“What’s wrong? You’re distracted,” Weller-kyo asked, peering at him. The King was running forward.

“Wolfram!”

The blond tried to stand, but damn. Weller pulled it but that love tap had hurt.

“Are you all right, Wolfram? Conrad, tell me he’s not hurt, please?” The king was dancing back and forth, and it was making him dizzy.

“Stop it, Heika,” he said, feeling green. “A king shouldn’t do that!” Bobbing around like that only made his stomach lurch.

“I think he’s fine, just bruised his ego,” Weller said, a smile dancing on his lips. “I also believe he means to say you jumping around like that makes his head hurt.”

“Like hell, how can anyone respect a king who acts like he’s got a bug down his pants?”

The new Maou was shocked, standing dead still. “Wolfram?”

Green eyes went huge, and he stood managed to stand and bowed deeply. “Forgive me, Heika.” He had no idea where that had come from. This man was clearly powerful and respected, even if he was a- was a-

Something. The words just weren’t coming to him today. Yet he was the king…

“I don’t know what got into me.”

He was painfully aware that he was a half breed now. Any power he had once held in the past, no matter who his brothers were… He was just a half breed…

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it!” The Maou waved it off. Wolfram peered up through his lashes to see an unexpected smile on his face of relief. It made the blond demon’s stomach flip over. “You’re always calling me names!”

Wolfram straightened. “Heika, I- I what?” He was appalled. He had no reservations at all at being bratty with his family, or anyone under him, but- to the Maou?

“Stop calling me that!” The Maou had resumed his buggy dance. “You’ve never called me Heika! You’ve always called me Yuuri! Or wimp! It’s not right for you to be respectful, call me a wimp!”

“Hu- what?” He felt dizzy at those words, as he searched his memory for that. Calling the new King by his first name, even if he was a- ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

Yuuri yelped when Wolfram jolted like he’d stuck his finger in a plug, the sword in his hand dropping to the ground with a clatter.

“Wolfram!” he shrieked, diving under him and staggering under his weight. The boy’s head rested against Yuuri’s shoulder, completely dead weight.

“I should have told you this before, Yuuri,” Conrad said, sounding tired. “When he first woke up, we didn’t know about his memory being gone… And we asked him questions. At first he denied knowing what we were talking about, and then when we pressed… He would go into a daze, and forget what we had said to him. I guess this time he truly tried hard to remember.”

Yuuri felt Wolfram’s breathing against his shoulder, and he lowered them both to the ground, arms still locked around his shoulders.

“You mean any time we try to remind him of anything, this will happen?”

“Yes- if he ever tries to recover his memories, if ever tries to remember on his own, he’ll just… stop. Turn off like he’s been short circuited.”

“Nnnn…” A groan interrupted their conversation. Heads whipped back to the blond boy, who groaned again, and sat up.

“Dammit, Weller,” he said, rubbing his head. “Were you trying to give me a concussion? What was I saying?” He put a finger to his chin, looking confused, and then craned his head around to look at the king who was holding him.

“Ah!” He jumped to his feet. “I apologize, Heika!”

Yuuri’s blood went cold. “It’s all right, Wolfram. And… I’m a very informal king. You can call me Yuuri.” He paused, licking dry lips and trying to find words that wouldn’t spark his memory. “You saved the kingdom, so you have the right to call me that.”

“I don’t remember it,” Wolfram said, honestly. “I don’t really deserve an honor I don’t remember.”

Yuuri wondered how so few words could make him feel so sick. “Nonetheless- It will make me very happy if you do so. Your brother here,” he said, and pointed at Conrad with his chin. “Will only call me that when I order him or I’m in mortal peril. Come on…” He gave Wolfram puppy eyes, and was gratified (not that he would admit it) to see Wolfram blushing.

“A- all right, Yuuri.”

For some reason Yuuri felt immensely better. Then he remembered that Wolfram had never been able to say ‘no’ to him…

Yet the feeling of hope did not diminish. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

Wolfram met the new Ma- Ah, Yuuri’s- eyes, and wondered if he was going to drown. It had been a long time since he had felt anything like this. He trusted this man, wanted his respect more than anything, even if some part of him was yelling “Wuss! You’re too nice to rule!”

Then again, he remembered his uncle’s reign over their kingdom… It went utterly against everything he was used to, to have this cuteness incarnate person as their Maou. For that matter, he knew nothing about him. Yet as the son of the former Maou, it was his duty to protect him and…

His head spun, and he felt his knees go weak, slumping into the dirt again.

The Ma-, no, no, it was Yuuri- was standing in front of him, shaking his shoulder, and he tried to pick out his words.

“I’m okay,” he said thickly, finally able to hear him. “Dammit, Weller, did you try to give me a concussion?”

The two men with him looked at each other, Conrad’s eyes actually surprised, and Yuuri looking like he wanted to cry. That expression was bad. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to think about it.

“Hei- ah, Yuuri,” Wolfram coughed, and shook his head to clear it. It was so much easier to not think of the time before his illness. It was like slogging through mud, because it hurt so much.

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” his brother said, and both helped him to his feet.

“It’s okay… I was thinking about something and… and I think I must be relapsing.” He wasn’t the type to slap on a fake smile and hope no one noticed, but that was exactly what he did. He tried to stay away from those strange thoughts, and took a deep breath, leaning over to retrieve his sword.

“Weller, I want to keep practicing,” he said, but his tone made it a request. He really had no rank over his brother now, but his pride was still sore.

Yuuri shook his head. “You need rest! Let’s go get a bath and we can get some breakfast and-“

Whatever else Yuuri was going to say was cut off as Gunter jogged out, white robes flapping. “Heika! We need to start on your paperwork!”

The king bristled, eyes wide as a deer before an archer. Squaring his shoulders, he whimpered, before following the pale man into the palace.

Wolfram didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry when Yuuri left.

“Are you all right?” Weller asked. Wolfram laughed weakly. He was still staring in the direction Yuuri had gone in.

“I think so… My head just keeps ringing.”

Conrad nodded then waved for him to sheathe his sword. “We really haven’t talked much, since you’ve gotten better.”

There was a tone in Weller’s voice set Wolfram’s nerves on edge. “What did you want to talk about?” he snapped. Funny, he was feeling better now that Yuuri wasn’t there. Well, his head did.

He felt as cold now as he did when he had gotten up this morning.

“I was wondering how you had taken to your… new status.” There was that odd note again.

“If you mean that I’ve somehow become a half breed?” Wolfram sighed, and looked away. There was quiet for several moments as the two brothers stood there.

Conrad remained silent, but Wolfram could feel him radiating “concerned big brother”.

“I can’t make myself feel sad about it.”

Looking up, he wondered if the look of shock on Conrad’s face made it all worth while.

“I should feel depressed. I should hate myself for becoming what I had always derided you for… but I can’t.” His expression was soft. “I feel like it was worth it. Whatever it was for.”

Conrad put his hand on Wolfram’s shoulder.

“And,” Wolfram turned to his brother, with a closed eyed smile. “I hope whatever it was I did, it was brave enough that I…” He flushed. “I can be worthy of being your brother.”

Conrad’s eyes went wide, before he pulled Wolfram to his chest, hugging him tightly.

“You always were. You’ve always been my precious little brother.”

To be continued.

A/N: I figured half the reason Wolfram was so hateful to Conrad was because he felt weak. During the war, he’d had to sit most of it out, and for that matter, he’d all the crap about half breeds fed to him by Stoffel… I think that’s part of why Wolfram had so many issues with his brother. ^_^ Fixed now!