the pursuit begins when this life ends » {Alice}

» roads

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 16:11:02 GMT

Title: Roads
Author: Alice
Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist (animeverse)
Spoilers: Spoilers for Conqueror of Shamballa.
Pairings/Characters: Winry Rockbell, Ed+Al+Winry friendship
Summary: Now all she had left of them was an album of old photographs and the hope that they would, someday, come back.
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is owned by Hiromu Arakawa, studio BONES, and uh SquareEnix. I think. Either way, Alice does not own it and that’s probably a very, very good thing.
Author’s Notes: After a period of writer’s block, I can write again! Whoot! \O/ This is my first attempt at a Fullmetal fic, so uh hopefully it doesn’t suck horribly. The song “Roads” by Portishead was an inspiration for this fic.

Roads

She hadn’t known about their plans to leave until the morning after they had already gone. The sight that greeted her when she woke was one that she’d somewhat expected, though perhaps not to this extreme. She knew they wouldn’t stay, and that pained her, but to see the remains of their house, it somehow hit a deeper cord inside her. When they’d gone away to train with Izumi Curtis, Winry could still walk past their house and remember the times they’d played together, and think of Trisha Elric and her kindness, her loving smile. Now all she had left of them was an album of old photographs and the hope that they would, someday, come back.

And they did, eventually, for a few days. She’d smiled at them, fixed them up, and gave Edward a stern lecture about his mistreatment of her automail, and it was just like old times, in almost too many ways. They stayed less than a week and then they were on the road again. Winry waved goodbye to them from the balcony and she noticed, through a haze of semi-consciousness in her half-awake state, that Ed really had grown, if only a little, both in height and in stature as he slowly transformed from a boy into a man. She hadn’t truly noticed before.

That was the only thing that ever changed. The image of them standing side by side as they walked away, backs facing her, was the clearest in her mind.

That always seemed so strange to her, even when they were very little, how when they’d play together the two brothers would always find it funny to run away from her and have her chase after them. Even when they weren’t playing (they could have just been walking down the street together,) they’d suddenly dart off, laughing and chortling as young boys do, and leave her standing there, staring after them. She was never a very fast runner; she knew she’d never catch up to them. She’d walk home and wait for them to return and sooner or later they’d show up, shifty eyed and apologetic. She’d scold them, and they’d know they were forgiven. She always did forgive them, somehow. She loved them too much not too.

She’d wait for them forever, but she wasn’t about to stand at the door, staring off down the road for a sign of them coming home. She carried on with her life while they were away and did her best not to think of them too often. Whenever she did she would slip into a melancholy state, reminiscing on the happier days before their mother died but it always, inevitably lead to a memory of them walking away from her, every single time. She did often wonder if they ever thought of her while on their travels and wondered if they ever regretted leaving her. She was, she always was, the one to get left behind. But she’d quickly push those thoughts far from her mind; thinking on them would just make her more upset and worried than she really needed to be. And it wasn’t like she needed them there. She wasn’t dependant on them, didn’t need them by her side to keep on living.

But that didn’t stop her from wanting them there.

So she’d smile happily at them when they finally did make their way back to her. She wouldn’t tell them of how much she’d really missed them, and how sad she was when they were gone; she figured they probably already knew and her confirming their beliefs, when they were already beaten and broken (because they always did seem to come back to her in the worst of states,) would only hurt them more and make it harder for them to leave. And they would leave, they had to leave. They still had a goal to reach and it was a dangerous one but they needed to achieve it. What else could she do but give them a little encourage and tell them to take care of themselves?

They remained on their journey with the knowledge that they had someone to return to, and she stayed behind knowing they needed her to be there for them when they did return.

And it was hard, not knowing where they were or whether they were safe, but nothing was worse than knowing that no one knew. And for two years that’s how it was, Winry and everyone else waiting just to know if Edward was even alive. She still had Alphonse, of course, but that made it all feel so much more wrong, more frightening. It was always Ed and Al. And he didn’t know, didn’t remember, what Edward must have sacrificed to return Al to his body, and Winry could never put into words how that made her feel. How could he not remember all they’d been through?

And suddenly Edward appeared before her again, only for awhile. A very short while. And just as suddenly as he’d come, he’d gone, this time taking Alphonse with him. The last thing Winry ever saw of him was, once again, the sight of his back fading into the distance as he ran away from her, alone. From a distance she saw the strange flying machine turn and head back to wherever it came from and she knew that Edward was on board and that he was leaving for good and that Al would go with him and they would be together and be gone and they never even said goodbye to her. It was absolute, final. They weren’t coming back this time.

She didn’t cry, though tears did gather in the corners of her eyes. She held them back. She had too. What was she crying for this time? They were together, even if she was left behind again. It amazed her sometimes how, no matter how many times they abandoned her, no matter how used to it she was by now, it still hurt.

When she returned home, she took some of the old pictures of the boys out of the photo album and put them in frames or pinned them to the wall before noticing that Den had a bit of a limp. Some screws in his automail leg were loose. She quickly got to work and carried on with her life. They would, she hoped and reasoned. She couldn’t… no, she wouldn’t sit around moping and waiting for them to come back when she knew without a doubt that they wouldn’t. She had a good life, a great job, and a small but loving family, and she wasn’t going to give up on all that just because the Elric brothers had gone away again. She had to keep moving forward in spite of the pain, because there was no point in ever denying that the pain was there.

Because she still didn’t need them. But she’d always, always want them.

FIN
________________________________________
Ughhhhhhh, that was bad. Well, not terrible, but certainly not my best. Still, I’m rather proud of it since it’s my first attempt at anything FMA and I actually finished it, which is saying a lot since I haven’t been able to write so much as a sentence for the last month or so. D8 It’s short, but still. It’s something.

Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, particularly concerning characterization. Characterization is a big thing with me. Flames, however, will be laughed at and openly mocked. If you must flame, at least do it well so I can get a good laugh. Thank you~ 8D

» why we fight

Fri, 30 May 2008 19:01:43 GMT

Prompt for mikagechan for a Günter meme; Günter training young Conrart.

Why We Fight

Günter von Kleist had a great many talents and, in his opinion, taking care of children was not one of them. Everyone around him seemed to disagree as he consistently was made to baby-sit, first his younger siblings, and now that he’d moved into Blood Pledge Castle, the three sons of the demon queen had become his charges. And unfortunately for Günter, there was really no way out of it. The three boys had latched onto him, each in their own way, and Günter had barely had a moment to himself in nearly four months. It had been the same way with his younger brother and sisters. It made no sense to Günter, it wasn’t as though he was a particularly fun person to be around, and yet he seemed to be a kid magnet. It was very confusing and somewhat alarming, especially when he went into his chambers for some time alone to read or just sit and stare at the ceiling and he’d find one of the three boys waiting for him there.

Gwendal had been the one from the very beginning to pester Günter to train him in the art of swordplay, ever since their first meeting in which Gwendal had boldly challenged Günter to a duel and had lost in under sixty seconds. Conrart had been content to just follow Günter around and observe, asking questions every now and then, but he was generally the quiet one. Wolfram was the youngest and had only recently even learned how to speak and now that he had started, Günter couldn’t get the kid to shut up. He followed Günter everywhere; alternatively holding on to his little big brother’s hand and clutching onto Günter’s pant leg (and often having to run in order to keep up with Günter’s long strides.) He would question anything and everything. He wanted to be taught how to fight, he wanted to be pampered, and he didn’t want to be more than five meters away from Günter for any long length of time. Günter suspected the boy was still a bit frightened by his memories of the week Günter and the princes spent lost in the forest the first month Günter had arrived at the castle and Wolfram probably figured he was safest when he was close to Günter. But Günter couldn’t be sure.

Günter has hiding in a bush outside the castle, contemplating this thought, when he heard Conrart’s gentle voice calling his name. He flinched and sunk lower into the bush. It wasn’t that he disliked Conrart, quite the opposite, he was quite fond of the kids (though he’d always deny it) but ten minutes. He just wanted ten minutes to himself! That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

Apparently it was, as a moment later there was a rustling above him and Günter looked up to see Conrart looking curiously down at him, having pushed the leaves and small branches back to find him. “Günter?”

Damnit. Foiled again.

Günter smiled gently up at Conrart, trying his best to keep the twitch in his eye under control, and stood, brushing the dirt and leaves off of his clothes. “Yes, Conrart?”

“What are you doing down there?” Conrart asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Ah. I dropped something. I found it now, though. Nothing to worry about. Did you want something, Conrart?”

Conrart nodded, his warm hazel eyes narrowing and Günter could see a strange determination there that he’d never seen in the boy before. “Lord von Bielefeld’s coming,” he said, coldly, and Günter’s eyes widened.

“Oh,” was all he could manage to say. He’d never met the man, personally, but he knew Gwendal and Conrart’s opinion of him and had heard enough stories that he was pretty confident that Gwendal and Conrart’s feelings were justified. “When?”

“In two weeks.”

“I see. Does Wolfram know?”

“Not yet. Mother said she’ll tell him later.”

“I see.” Günter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “And how do you feel about this?”

Conrart remained quiet and kicked aimlessly at the dirt. “Günter? I’ve been thinking… I know I’m not supposed to start for another year or so but I want… to start my training.”

Günter’s eyebrows rose. “You’re training has begun, Conrart.”

“Learning the proper stances and wielding only a wooden sword isn’t real training. I want to begin working with an actual sword, like Gwendal.”

“Gwendal’s older than you, Conrart,” Günter said gently, working to disentangle himself from the bush and stepping out next to Conrart. “You’re still too young.”

“I’ve never said this to you before, and I’ll probably never say it again, but I think you’re wrong, Günter,” Conrart said, staring defiantly up at the young-adult. “My father has said my stance is much better now and… and… I need to learn how to fight. We’ve already been attacked and if you hadn’t been there, Günter… we’d be dead now. I couldn’t do anything, neither could Gwendal… we were so useless…” Günter watched in fascination as the boy’s look slowly turned from defiance to pleading. “Please, Günter. I don’t want to be that helpless again.”

There was a pause, during which Günter seemed to size Conrart up and the young boy stood as straight and proud as he could, not backing down under the older man’s gaze. “I’m not… saying yes, yet, Conrart, but answer me this one question.”

Conrart blinked. “Alright.”

“Why is it that you fight?”

Conrart blinked again. “What?”

“Why is it that you fight, Conrart? What motivatesy you, what’s your purpose, your reason for wielding a blade and charging into battle? What is it you are fighting for?”

Conrart didn’t even have to pause to think before he answered. “Wolfram.”

It was Günter’s turn to blink before he smiled gently down at him. “Is that so?”

Conrart nodded, determinedly. “Always.”

Another pause. “If that’s truly how you feel then I can’t very well deny your request,” Günter said with a sigh. “You’re still too small to wield a proper sword. I’ll look and ask around, and try to locate a shorter sword that would be better for you so it may be at least two weeks before we properly begin.”

“That’s fine,” Conrart said and there was a brightness in his eyes that Günter rarely saw there, a twinkle of joy. “I can be patient. Just… thank you, Günter!”

“You do know, though, that if your mother protests there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

“I know. I’ll talk to her,” Conrart said, grinning widely.

“Alright. Is that all you wished to speak to me about?”

Conrart nodded in response and Günter internally sighed in relief. He began to slink away, still grinning at Conrart. “In that case, I shall have to bid you good day! I’m going to retire to my chambers until supper. Today is my day off, after all…”

Günter’s hopes and dreams of a few minutes to himself were instantly shattered by Gwendal, in his most commanding (but still distinctly unthreatening, at least in Günter’s view) voice shouting from right behind him, “Günter! You’re not busy? Excellent, we can get some extra training in today. Let’s go!”

Damnit! Foiled twice.
________________________________________
Günter met Conrart two weeks later in the courtyard, with a short sword he’d located that was just right for someone Conrart’s size. He’d instructed Conrart to assume the proper stance and go through some normal routine exercises to get used to the weight of the new blade.

Conrart was far more patient and calm than Gwendal, a fact that Günter repeatedly thanked Shinou for. Gwendal was a very pushy and frustrating student, hardly ever willing to listen to Günter and always thinking he knew best, and he seemed to enjoy being beaten as he continuously challenged Günter to duels. Conrart listened to Günter’s instructions and suggestions and he definitely had a special talent. Günter picked up on that quickly, despite the fact that the first time they dueled, Günter disarmed Conrart in less time than it took for him to do the same to Gwendal. He had high hopes for the second prince.

“Did you ever ask Gwendal that question?” Conrart asked him during one of their training sessions and Günter looked at him in confusion.

“Which question?”

“Did you ask Gwendal what he was fighting for?”

Günter smiled in understanding and nodded. “Indeed I did. It was during the week we were in the woods.” Conrart noticeably stiffened at the mention of that time.

“And what did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything. He just spent the rest of the night sitting much closer to you and Wolfram than before.”
________________________________________

Wolfram had been the sloppiest of Günter’s three main pupils, at least, during the time that Günter taught him. He was aggressive and impatient and above all else, he didn’t know what he was fighting for. Where Conrart and Gwendal both knew their reason from a young age, Wolfram didn’t find his until he was in his 80’s, and then Conrart and Günter could both see how he improved, how he focused and fought with purpose, and they never had to question what that reason was.
________________________________________

“I wonder…” Günter said to Conrart, once, as they watched out the window in Günter’s office as Wolfram and Yuuri practiced. “What is the reason you fight, Conrart?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

A pause. “Your feelings haven’t changed.”

“Not once.”

Günter smiled. “I thought so.”

Conrart returned the smile, his warm eyes following the movements of his brother and his godson down below. “Although,” he said after awhile, “now I have two things I fight for.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Günter replied, nodding in understanding.

“Günter?”

“Hmm?”

“Why is it that you fight?”

Günter turned to look at Conrart, startled, and found Conrart looking back at him intently. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Conrart said and Günter could see that same determination in the man’s eyes that he saw once in a young boy desperate to learn how to protect his family.

Damnit. Three times foiled.

Günter looked away from Conrart and turned his gaze upwards towards the sky. “Huh. Good question,” he said, quietly and Conrart’s eyes narrowed at him. “I suppose my reason has changed over time… now I believe my reason… I fight for… redemption. I suppose.”

“And before?”

“That’s a secret,” Günter said with a small chuckle. “But I can say… that you three brothers… all had far better reasons than I.”

“You taught us to fight for love. Did you?”

Günter remained silent and continued to stare out the window. “No,” he said thoughtfully after a bit.

“I see,” Conrart said, quietly, not looking at Günter.

Günter smiled towards the sky and laughed.

“Like I said. You three had far better reasons than I ever did.”

And in that sense, Günter thought to himself, you all surpassed me. Right from the very beginning.

» a room with no windows

Wed, 28 May 2008 21:46:18 GMT

Prompt for neocloud9 and batty_gal for a Günter meme; Günter and his family; abandonment + lose of a family member/comfort (Tragedy/Angst)

A Room With No Windows

He couldn’t begin to guess how long he’d been locked in this room, this bare and empty room with no windows and nothing but a bed with crisp white sheets to decorate it. Judging from how many times the assistant healer had been sent in to bring him meals, he’d estimate maybe he’d been in there for at least two days, but he couldn’t really remember. He didn’t even remember eating the food that was brought to him, though the empty soup bowl on the ground next to him indicated that he must have at some point. He had situated himself in the corner of the room, away from the bed – it looked so much like the bed she’d been laying on last he saw her, dripping and reeking with blood and other bodily fluids – and he had yet to move away from there. His mind had more or less been blank, only occasionally wondering when someone was going to come get him out and how funeral plans were going. He took a moment, during his time in silence, to notice that the bruises on his arms had faded, the healer having worked her magic when he wasn’t paying attention. He found it oddly interesting how none of them seemed to want to look at him. Really, now, he wasn’t that repulsive. The blood had been washed off and his clothes changed somewhere along the line.

Günter glanced around the room once again and felt a pang of bitterness that there were no windows. How could he watch the activity of the sky if he couldn’t see it?

The sound of the door being unlocked and opening made its way through the haze of his mind and Günter turned to see one of the healers shuffling into the room, her eyes averted, with a tray and another bowl of soup for him.

“Your supper, Your Excellency,” she said respectfully, not expecting him to reply. She jumped a little when he did.

“You’ve been outside recently, right?”

She froze mid-step and stared hard at the ground, seemingly frightened at being addressed by him. “Y-yes,” she said after a moment, still not willing to look at him.

“Tell me,” he said nonchalantly, “is the sky dark?”

That made her chuckle a little. “The sky is always dark, My Lord.”

“I mean, is it darker than usual?”

This put her off a bit and she tilted her head to the side, biting her lip as she thought. A strange habit, Günter thought. After a moment she said, slowly, as though not completely sure with her answer, “Maybe… maybe a little. Not… enough that I noticed but now that you ask… I suppose it is, yes.”

Günter sighed, leaning his head against the wall. “I thought so.”

“Is there something wrong, My Lord?” she asked, moving forward cautiously and bending down to place the tray next to him.

“No…” he said, listlessly. “No… not yet.” He sighed again and closed his eyes for a moment. “Now I have another question for you.”

“A-alright,” the poor girl said, nervously.

“Are you pregnant?”

She blinked, rapidly, and then blushed deeply. “O-oh no, is it showing already?! I mean, I wasn’t expecting…! I haven’t told anyone yet, I-I’m still, I just got the news myself, I-I…! How did you know?”

“Just a hunch,” Günter said, smiling a little at her reaction. “Don’t worry. How far along are you?”

“J-just a few weeks, My Lord,” she said, calming down from her outburst.

“I see. Congratulations.”

“T-thank you, Your Excellency.”

“You may go now.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

She nodded and stood, quickly shuffling out of the room, locking the door behind her, seemingly highly alarmed by their interaction. Günter glanced after her a moment and sighed. So the sky was getting darker. That spelled trouble. Not that he expected anything less; in fact, he was surprised she hadn’t already made some sort of move, some sort of retaliation. The fact that she hadn’t was somewhat worrying. Her business was with Günter personally and if she hadn’t already tried to deal with it… chances were something big was up. She was planning something and Günter didn’t even want to begin to imagine what that woman had in mind.

His train of thought was cut off by the sound of the door being unlocked and opened yet again and he turned to look at it with narrowed eyes. No one came into this room unless it was to feed him or inspect him to see if he was physically still well. They’d stopped trying to talk to him after the first day. So who could it be now?

His eyes widened in shock as his father entered the room, escorted by a higher level healer. Klaus von Kleist looked very disheveled, as though he hadn’t slept in days – and the more Günter thought about, the more he thought that was probably the case – his clothes and hair a mess, his face pale with dark bags under his eyes. It was not a state Günter had ever seen his father in before, and the sight would have probably frightened him a few days ago, but he wasn’t in a state now that fear was even possible and certainly not of something such as this.

There was a long stretch of silence as Günter examined his father and his father examined him, and Günter noted how his father seemed less than thrilled with the environment his son had been placed in. Good, Günter thought, maybe he’ll get me out.

Klaus slowly crossed the room and sat down beside his son. The healer stood by the door, acting as a chaperone of sorts. Günter was slightly offended by that but he chose not to comment on it. There were other, more important issues at hand.

“Günter,” his father said, softly, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I haven’t come.”

“It’s alright,” Günter said. “I’m not… all that surprised. I mean… it’s expected. She was your wife and the head of the family… one of the aristocrats, I’m sure you had so much to attend to.”

“Actually,” Klaus said, biting his lip, “we made a promise, your mother and I, that if anything ever happened to one of us, our first priority would be to make sure you kids were alright. I’ve spent the last few days looking for some kind of loophole… to get you out of here and out of this… whole situation.”

“What situation? The one where they can’t seem to decide whether I belong in jail or in with the loonies?”

Klaus shook his head. “You do… realize, don’t you? In your mother’s will was the order of succession for becoming the head of the family, the next aristocrat in the von Kleist line… and you’re first, Günter.”

Günter stared at his father as though he’d gone completely mad. “I… me? I mean, I knew that I was first and all, but I mean… considering the circumstances… I’m hardly qualified, I’m hardly ready! I’m not… I can’t deal with this right now!”

“I know,” Klaus said with a sigh. “Hence why I’m looking for a loophole of some sort. Some way to maybe put Leberecht or Adelinde in charge… I can’t take over, obviously, since I’m only a von Kleist by marriage and the head of the family needs to be a von Kleist by blood, but since your mother’s will clearly stated you were to succeed her… and there’s no way for her to change it now…” He drifted off here and Günter could see the pain flash briefly in his eyes before he gathered himself and continued. “There’s just… no way around it that I can see, unless you formally give it up and Her Majesty forces you out of your position.”

“I’ll give it up, then!”

“It’s not that easy, Günter. The people aren’t aware that you’re here, they don’t know anything that’s happened, or at least, that it was your fau-“ he quickly shut his mouth, realizing he was saying and trying to cover it up. “That don’t know you were involved. They’ve always known and assumed you would take over after Aleit passed away… Her death was so… so sudden and it’s left the people uneasy, restless, a bit paranoid what with the rumors going around that she was murdered-“

“Is there any basis for that rumor?” Günter demanded, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

“No,” Klaus said, frowning, “but with sudden deaths like this, everyone’s eager to blame someone. The point is, though… you know how these people are, how they can get. They like stability and like order, but they don’t like change, not at all. Imagine how they might react to you stepping down and handing over the position to someone else. You should remember… better than most… how the people of Kleist get when someone gets power that they know does not belong to them. With everyone so on edge and afraid right now… it’s not a good idea, Günter.”

“So what am I supposed to do, then?”

“I’ve been looking primarily to see if there’s a way I can at least act as the head of the family until you’re better, until you’re able to take on the role yourself, just a year or so, but it doesn’t look like that’ll really be possible.”

“So what do I do?” Günter stared hard at his father. “I can’t do this. You know I can’t.”

“I know…” Klaus said, quietly. “But I think… I think you have to.”

Günter let out a bitter laugh. “Right, I feel bad for the people of Kleist, then, putting a mad man at the head of their government. Brilliant.”

“Don’t say that, Günter.”

“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it? Although,” he said, thoughtfully, “I suppose… at least now I know it’s all a dream. Before I drove myself up the wall just trying to figure out what was real and what was all in my head but…” His lips curled back in an uncharacteristic smirk and Klaus flinched at the sight of it. “He’s gone now. He can’t bother me anymore. So from now on, it’s all a dream.”

A silence settled between them, broken when Günter sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. “What’s her name?” he asked.

“Irmalinda,” Klaus said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Your mother told me awhile back. ‘If it’s a boy, let’s name him after my father. If it’s a girl, my mother.’ So. Irmalinda.”

“That’s a nice name. I’d like to see her, I only got a quick look at her before, you know, I got arrested and all that.”

“She’s quite darling,” his father said, perking up at the thought of his new baby girl. “I mentioned your name to her and it was the first thing to make her smile, a real big smile, none of the rest of you lot ever smiled like that so young. She cried when I mentioned the fountain to her, though.”

“Why in the world would you talk to her about that thing?”

“I was telling her my life story.”

“That must have put her right to sleep.”

“Oh hush, my life is fascinating.”

Günter chuckled, bowing his head and bringing his knees up to his chest, small tremors running through his body. “Franz told me that he thinks that someone should write a book about my life,” he informed his father, who nodded. “And I told him no one would want to read it; it’s such a sham, a tragedy at its best. And you know what he told me? He told me, ‘it doesn’t matter how tragic it is, it’d still be beautiful.’ I asked him why and he just smiled that dumb smile of his and said, ‘you’re in it, Günter. So it’s beautiful.’” Tears were leaking out of the corner of Günter’s eyes and he placed his chin on top of his knees. “And people say,” he said, his voice trembling as he spoke and Günter let out a small sob, “that I’m the crazy one?”

Klaus leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Günter’s shoulders and pulled him close, letting him cry into his chest. Günter completely broke down then, clutching tightly to the front of his father’s already ruffled shirt and wept. Klaus continued to rub Günter’s back soothingly, muttering calming words to him every now and then. He had never comforted Günter before, he’d never had to, it was always Aleit’s place. Klaus never could comfort Günter even if he tried, his third child such a mystery to him, a source of confusion and constant anger and drama and sorrow and regret, but now, for the first time that Günter could remember, his father was able to do something right for him. He let him cry in silence.

And later, much later, when Klaus had to leave with the promise that he’d have Günter out by the end of the next day, Günter warned his father to keep a close watch on the skies. “It’s moving,” he said to Klaus, quietly, not wanting the healer in the room to hear, and Klaus nodded in understanding and departed, leaving Günter alone once more with his thoughts and his daze and his memories, in the small room with a white bed and no windows.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

» what a wonderful world (chapter three)

Sat, 24 May 2008 00:58:00 GMT

Title: What a Wonderful World
Author: Alice
Fandom(s): Kyou Kara Maou!
Spoilers: Spoilers through to the end of the second season; some hints at the events from the OVAs but not in great detail.
Pairings/Characters: Yuuri/Wolfram, Conrad + Wolfram
Summary: After an assassination attempt on Wolfram leaves the denizens of Blood Pledge Castle in shock, Yuuri takes it upon himself to assign Wolfram a lone personal knight who’ll place Wolfram’s wellbeing above even the king’s safety.
Part: 3/(?)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence and gay; the best combination in the world. 8’)
Disclaimer: Alice does not own Kyou Kara Maou. And you all should be very, very thankful for that.
Author’s Notes: Okay so, in between the release of this chapter and the previous chapter, two things have occurred. First off, two new OVAs. Oh my. I still have no clue what the hell was going on in the 4th one and the 5th one was just hardxcore. Moving on to the point, another big event that has happened is the start of the third season. And uh, I’ll try to avoid giving specific spoilers but it looks like we’ll be getting at least a bit more of a look at Wolfram’s family this season, which sort of renders the bit of back-story and family for him portrayed in this fic wrong. Which was obvious, but I’m just letting you guys know that since I started this before the new season came out; I’m flat-out ignoring the third season. Like, everything. Wolfram’s family, Anissina’s family, events, so on and so forth. We’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen and carry on. Now I think I understand how fans who were writing fic while the original series was still airing must of felt. Oh, canon. 8’)
Anyway, thank you guys for the excellent response~ ♥
I hope this chapter lives up to our expectations.

« Previous
Chapter Three: Departure

Wolfram was somewhat surprised that Yuuri invited him. It thrilled him, certainly, but it wasn’t what he was expecting from the king. He naturally agreed; the last day in the castle before setting out on a long journey should be spent with one’s family. Or in the case, the people Wolfram considered to be his family.

Greta was the one who set it up, rummaging around with one of the maids to find a big, comfortable blanket, setting it up in the gardens, and asking the maids to bring the food. All Yuuri and Wolfram had to do was be there. How their daughter had managed to convince the others to give them their time alone was beyond them, but Yuuri was beyond grateful.

“Although,” he admitted, taking a bite of an unusually colored apple, “Günter has been letting me skive off of lessons a bit more recently.” This earned him a glare from Wolfram and he raised his hands in defense. “I-it’s not my fault! He says he has other work to do and runs off! I don’t even ask to be let go, he just… sends me off!” Wolfram’s eyes narrowed at him. “I’m being honest!” Yuuri insisted.

“I think he’s telling the truth, papa Wolfram,” Greta said, looking up at him, curiously. “I saw Günter in the library earlier with a huge stack of books he was going through… I think he might be researching that strange magic from the ball.”

“Ah,” Wolfram said, still frowning at Yuuri. “Have you at least been doing something productive with your time to make up for lost lessons? Have you gotten any work with Gwendal done?”

“Some!” Yuuri said, nodding. “He’s been lightening the load, though. He says that some of the documents need… follow-up? Or something like that. Anyway, he says that some of them will need lots of time to look over so it would be better to hold them off until after we return from Bordelais.”

Greta pouted at the mention of the foreign kingdom her two fathers would be leaving for the next day. “Do you really have to go?”

Yuuri raised his hand to stroke her hair and gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, we do… It would be rude not to. But you don’t have to worry, Greta, we’ll be back soon!”

“Your father’s right,” Wolfram added. “Anissina will be back tomorrow, and the maids will be here, and mother. Günter’s staying behind, too. You’ll have lots of people to play with and entertain you while we’re away and then, before you know it, we’ll be back.”

Greta nibbled on a piece of bread and looked between the two boys. “You’ll be alright? What if something happens to you and you don’t… come back to Greta!”

Her father gathered the young girl up in his arms and held her tightly to his chest. “Don’t worry, Greta,” he muttered to her, soothingly. “Nothing’s going to happen to us. Wolfram and I will protect each other, and Conrad will be there, and Gwendal. Even if someone tries something, we’re fully prepared to fight!”

Greta was quiet for a moment, her gaze lingering on Wolfram, who was smiling at her reassuringly. “You weren’t… prepared for the ball.”

Wolfram’s eyes widened at Greta’s words and he and Yuuri exchanged worried glances. “That was… different, Greta. That was a surprise attack. We’re going into enemy territory; we’ll be fully prepared for any sort of confrontation.” He scooted forward to sit next to Yuuri and reached out to place a hand on her smaller one. “We’ll be alright, Greta. You don’t have to worry.”

She blinked up at him, then at Yuuri, and a small smile spread across her face. “I guess you guys are right… Yuuri and papa Wolfram will look after each other!”

“That’s right,” Wolfram said, nodding. He glanced at Yuuri, who shot him a sheepish grin, and Wolfram’s cheeks turned just a bit pink.

“Günter isn’t going to be happy about being left behind again,” Greta commented and Yuuri let out a nervous laugh.

“You… you’d think! But he actually volunteered to stay behind. It was bizarre.”

“Günter has been acting weird since the night of the attack,” Wolfram said, glancing towards the castle.

“Do you think something’s wrong with him?” Yuuri asked.

“Something’s always been wrong with Günter,” Wolfram replied, rolling his eyes in annoyance at the currently-not-present advisor. “But I’m not sure… what’s wrong with him now.”

“He seems very determined to learn more about that strange magic that attacked you, Wolfram,” Greta added, sliding out of Yuuri’s grasp to snatch a sandwich from the basket of food she had had the maids prepare.

“Yeah, that’s true… Not only that, though, but he’s also just seemed very out-of-it in lessons. Like, there were times when his voice would trail off mid-sentence and he’d stand there looking out the window with a weird expression on his face. I’d have to go snap my fingers by his ear to get him to respond to me!” Yuuri frowned as he recalled these memories of the past few weeks. It was something he’d noticed, subconsciously, but didn’t really think on or find truly strange until he said it out loud. “Could he be sick or something?”

“I have no idea,” Wolfram said, accepting a purple fruit offered to him by Greta. “You know…” he said, taking a small bite and looking around the gardens with a small smile on his face. “I’m glad the weather’s nice today.”

Greta giggled and nodded, following Wolfram’s gaze. “Definitely!” she said, excited, all thoughts of Günter pushed from her mind in an instant. “This is a great way to spend the day with my two favorite people.” She took another bite while Yuuri and Wolfram exchanged grins before they both followed Greta’s example and carried on with their meal.
________________________________________
There were few things in the world that truly made Günter von Kleist angry. One of those things was people snooping around in his personal business. He liked to keep his private life private and some people seemed to lack respect for that and it frustrated and angered him. He particularly hated it when people went into his private chambers, announced or unannounced, but especially unannounced for obvious reasons. But above all else he hated it when people snooped in his personal business in his private chambers while Günter was in there trying to work, as he was when there was a sharp knock at his door that pulled him from his deep thought.

Günter glanced towards the door and let out a sigh. “Who is it?” he said, doing his best to maintain his calm demeanor.

“I need to speak to you,” came Gwendal’s voice from the other side of the door.

Günter sighed a second time and called to Gwendal, “It’s open; you may enter.”

Gwendal opened the door and walked in, eyes darting around the unfamiliar area, taking in the pile of books, some so worn from use that pages were falling out and they were everywhere, just stacks of books and little else. He rarely came in to Günter’s room, he could only recall one or two instances over the course of Günter’s time at the castle that he’d needed to and it always amazed him how untidy and cluttered the advisor’s room was.

“What is it you need, Gwendal?” Günter asked, attention directed back towards the book on the desk in front of him.

“Have you found any information concerning the magic used to attack my brother?” Gwendal asked, getting straight to the point.

“Not yet,” Günter said, sadly, “but I’m still researching diligently. But is that all? I think that that question could have waited until tomorrow…”

Gwendal was silent and Günter’s eyes narrowed a bit but he didn’t raise his gaze to meet the younger man’s. “Gwendal?”

Gwendal let out an exasperated sigh and raised his hand to massage his temple, more and more wrinkles creasing his brow. “Five times, Ulrike said, was how many times that that different magic was used. Only five.”

“Is this strange to you?”

“Four times it was the person who attacked Wolfram, correct? And it was during the actual attack. The fifth was another person interfering.”

Günter nodded. “Go on.”

“They used magic to transport out. So how did they get in?”

Günter raised his head, slowly, to look at Gwendal, eyebrows raised. “You think… someone helped them enter the castle?”

“How else could they have gotten in without someone noticing?!”

“Have you spoken to any of the guards about this? They could have snuck in.”

“No one saw anything,” Gwendal ground out, clearly fuming. “Yozak scouted the area and there’s no evidence anywhere that that person forced entry. The only other option was if they were smuggled in.”

“Someone would have noticed.”

“There were a lot of people at that party that I didn’t recognize. Guests, consorts, concubines, a whole slew of people who were invited by nobles.”

Günter blinked. “Gwendal, are you suggesting… you think that one of the nobles plotted to have Wolfram killed?”

Gwendal nodded.

“That’s a very bold accusation, Gwendal. To even suspect treason!” Günter blinked a few times before he continued to speak, quietly, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Have you… told anyone else about your suspicions? Besides Yozak?”

“No.”

Günter nodded and took in a deep breath. “This is something that must be handled with great care, Gwendal. Be sure to only relay this information to people you absolutely trust.”

“I would send Yozak out to investigate further but he’ll be accompanying His Majesty on the voyage to Bordelais,” Gwendal said, frowning. “So for the time being it’ll just be the two of us. We’ll have to keep our wits about us and pay extra close attention for any signs of suspicious activity.”

“Indeed,” Günter said softly, shutting his eyes tightly as though he thought it would make all the stress vanish into thin air, “If that’s all you wish to tell me, Gwendal, then you may leave now. I should continue researching for any information on Wolfram’s attackers.”

“Of course,” Gwendal said and he turned to leave but something caught his eye and he turned back, eyes narrowing. “Günter?”

“Yes?”

“That book is blank. There’s nothing written in it.”

There was a pause in which Günter looked from Gwendal to the book and back at Gwendal and smiled at him. “Indeed it is.”

Gwendal opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and with a last look at Günter’s book and a quick bow, he exited the room.

Günter stared at the door a moment longer before turning back to look at his book. He sighed and shook his head, slowly. “I have my suspicions too, Gwendal…” he said, leaning forward and pressing his palm against the page of the book. Words suddenly began swirling across the page, glowing an eerie black and blue and they floated, drifting on and off the page, disappearing into thin air and reappearing again and Günter watched them, eyes darting back and forth as though he were reading a normal book and absorbing all which he read. “And I hope that they are not true… but if they are… then we have far more than just a traitor in our midst.”
________________________________________
They left at dawn to begin their journey to the sea. Yuuri and Wolfram said goodbye to Greta, who had cried just a little, and they comforted her, telling her not to worry, they’d be back soon, and just like that they were on their way.

They’re first few days of traveling were relatively uneventful. Some days they were able to make it to a town and stay in inns but there were some days when they found the sun setting while they were in the forest and had to set up camp there. Conversation on the road was fairly dull, mostly complaining from Yuuri about why Bordelais had to be so far away, talk of Greta, and horror stories of what Anissina was up to. Stories of home. Yuuri questioned now and then what life in Bordelais was like and what he could expect and if there were any certain customs he needed to know (“Don’t want to end up accidentally engaged to someone else… Ow, Wolfram! What was that for?!”) Murata was surprisingly unhelpful.

“In all my years,” he said, “I’ve never once actually visited the country and it is far away so news of it rarely reached my ears…” Yozak and the others were equally clueless. It was a completely new place, a new experience, for all of them, and though none of them said it aloud, it was clear that this was making all of them a bit nervous and Yuuri found himself starting to wish that he’d denied the offer to visit in the first place.
________________________________________
“Captain!”

Conrad’s ears perked up at the sound of Yozak calling to him from across the make-shift camp and he stood, slowly and moved to join his friend, who was staring intently out into the dark forest. He moved carefully so as not to awaken any of the boys who were currently sleeping peacefully. “What is it? Did you see something?” he asked as he reached Yozak’s side and he glanced in the direction Yozak was looking for any sign of movement.

Yozak nodded his head and jerked it towards the woods. “Something… or someone was perched in that tree over there…”

“Watching us?”

“Not quite.”

Conrad’s eyes narrowed at this. “What do you mean?”

“They were watching you. The entire time they’re focus was completely on you… and… Captain, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen them.”

“What?!” Conrad had to fight to keep his voice quiet. “This person has been following us and you didn’t see fit to tell me this?”

“Quite honestly,” Yozak said, sheepishly, “I thought you’d noticed already.”

“I hadn’t.”

“Obviously.” Yozak sighed and ran his hand through his orange hair. “I didn’t want to alarm His Majesty and them without cause and this person has done nothing but watch you this entire time.”

“What did they look like?”

“I haven’t been able to see clearly. Too dark. I’ve just seen their silhouette. They’re fairly small, I’d say only a bit taller than His Majesty and lithe, but that’s all I can make out. They say me watching them watching you for the first time tonight and ran for it.”

Conrad glared into the woods as though he thought the stalker in question was just outside his line of vision. “Do you get the impression that this person poses a threat?”

“I’m not sure… but do we really want to run the risk that they could be?”

Conrad nodded in understanding and slowly drew his sword. “Which way did they go?” Yozak gestured in the direction the person had fled and Conrad nodded. “Look after His Majesty and them while I’m gone.”

“What should I tell them if they wake up?” Yozak asked, casting a glance over his shoulder at the boys.

“Make something up,” Conrad said, rolling his eyes. Yozak grinned widely and nodded and watched as Conrad walked away into the woods and before long he was gone, his shape no longer illuminated by the light of the fire.

Conrad was never the best tracker in the dark but here, in the dead silence of the dark forest, he found it much more difficult. At the slightest sound, the smallest crack of a twig, he’d jump, whirl around, sword raised and prepared to strike only to find it was nothing but a harmless squirrel. This carried on for quite some time and Conrad was getting more and more frustrated and began to think that the person Yozak had seen was long gone when he heard something moving above him, as though someone was walking along the branches of the tree. He turned and stared up into the darkness where he thought he heard the sound and followed it and realized quickly that the person was literally walking in circles around him.

“What kind of game is this?” Conrad said, quietly, more to himself than anyone else but it earned him a laugh from the person above, a musical laugh that sounded strange in the dark of the forest.

“It’s a very fun game!” the person above said gleefully. “A very fun game indeed! Even more fun because you came alone! I was worried for a bit that when you came you’d bring that strawberry friend of yours.”

“Who are you?” Conrad said, mentally loathing the fact that he couldn’t see who he was speaking to. “Why are you following us?”

“Not ‘us.’ You!”

Conrad frowned. So Yozak was right. This person had a fixation on him. “Why me? What do you want?”

“Ohhhh, I can’t say! That’d be telling and if I tell then the game is over and what fun would that be?”

“I don’t have the patience to play you’re little game!” Conrad yelled, clutching the hilt of his sword tightly. “My little brother was attacked recently. The King’s fiancé. Tell me, did you have something to do with it?”

“Oh, no, no! Of course not. Not at all.”

Conrad scowled. This person spoke in such a way that it was hard to tell his sarcasm from his normal tone. “Show yourself to me. Come down here and face me with honor.”

There was a pause.

“Mmmm, okay!” And suddenly behind Conrad, the person dropped down from the trees and landed gracefully and Conrad whirled around, stunned. He thought he’d been facing the person, how had he appeared behind him? Conrad’s sword was pointed at him instantly and he took a few steps back and surveyed the person in front of him. Yozak had been correct about their build for he was only a few inches taller than Yuuri and he was lean and pale with short strawberry blond hair that stood out in the darkness. What also jumped out at Conrad and made him raise his eyebrows was the person’s attire. A pale yellow undershirt with long sleeves underneath a black vest, and he wore black pants and a black hat and he was smiling Conrad as though he knew exactly what Conrad was thinking and was highly amused by it. “They say black is a royal color, one made for kings and queens… I think that’s pretty silly, it’s just a color after all!” His grin grew wider here. “And it’s a color I like so I wear it! I think I work it well. It’s a good thing you’re little brother isn’t here to see me, though, he’d think I was stealing his king away, wouldn’t he?”

“He’d think you were disrespecting His Majesty, which you are,” Conrad said forcefully.

The boy shrugged, clearly uninterested in the matter and so Conrad continued. “What business do you have with me? And tell me truthfully, did you have any involvement with the attack on Wolfram von Bielefeld!”

The boy shook his head. “I told you, no. I don’t. I have no reason to attack him, it doesn’t benefit me in anyway.”

“If you aren’t involved, do you know who is behind it?”

“I have an idea.”

“Tell me!”

The boy took a moment to ponder this over before he grinned again and winked at Conrad. “It’s a secret!”

Conrad’s patience was growing very, very thin. “Alright, then,” he said through gritted teeth, “if you weren’t involved in Wolfram’s attack and you aren’t here to harm His Majesty, then what is it you’re after?”

“I already told you!” he said with exasperation, throwing up his arms. “I’m here for you!”

“What do you mean, here for me?! Why?”

“Because I’m on,” he lowered his voice suddenly, “a secret mission. And for the first time,” he said normally, “my mission coincides with yours so I thought to myself, ‘why not go see what Conrart is doing?’ And here I am.”

Conrad blinked. “A mission? For what?”

“I’m looking for something.”

“Looking for what?”

“Something important.”

“I figured that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I was hoping for specifics.”

“Oh. Well. Too bad, it’s a secret!”

“Right then, fine. I still don’t see what this has to do with me? I don’t even know you! Tell me you’re name!”

“My name…?” The boy tilted his head to the side and blinked as though he didn’t understand what was being asked of him. “My name. Yes. My name, name, what’s in a name?”

“Tell me.”

“Really, Master,” came a voice suddenly from behind Conrad, up in the trees and he spun around, sword raised once more. Where had another person come from?! “You should just humor him, the poor man seems so confused and fidgety.”

“Yeaaaaaah, I guess so,” the boy said.

“Show yourself!” Conrad called to the person in the tree and he quickly had to step back as not a person but an animal leapt down and stood before him. It was a fox, a regular looking red fox. But the moment Conrad made eye-contact with the creature he knew it wasn’t normal at all because the thing smiled at him, almost apologetically.

“Please forgive me,” the creature said, “but this is my master’s will.”

“Oh, don’t apologize, Anselm!” The boy called but Conrad barely heard it.

“You’ve got a fox as your familiar,” he said, lamely, looking between the animal and its master. “A talking fox.”

“Anselm isn’t a familiar!” The boy said, placing his hands on his hips. “He’s my best friend! And stop calling me master,” he added to the fox who only shook his head.

“I’ve never seen such a thing. Are you not from this country?”

“No, I’m a Mazoku from Shin Makoku,” the boy said, blinking at Conrad as though he thought that was the dumbest question in the universe.

“Then what do you want with me?!” Conrad said once again, mentally promising that if this blond person didn’t give him a proper answer this time he’d hit something. Preferably the boy in question but he’d settle for a tree. Maybe.

“Make up your mind, do you want my name or what do you want from me?”

“I WANT YOUR NAME and I’d like to know what you want with me!” Conrad yelled, half a second away from just slicing the boy where he stood.

“Oh, well, then.”

And suddenly Conrad felt a blade being pressed to his back. “Let’s get on with it then,” the boy whispered and Conrad was suddenly thrown forward and he turned quickly to find the boy had a sword drawn and seemed to be prepared to duel him. “Good job, Anselm!” he called to the fox, who moved away to stand amongst the trees to watch from a safe distance. “You distracted him perfectly!”

Conrad blinked quickly, trying to figure out what had just happened. How had this person gotten so close to him without him noticing?

And he was fast, too, for Conrad barely had time to register hat he had even moved before he had to bring his sword up to block the assault. And it continued on, the blond striking and Conrad defending. Every now and then there was an opening and Conrad make a lunge but the younger always managed to twist away. The way he moved, it was like he was dancing and Conrad saw it as nothing more than a mockery. He just wouldn’t hold still! But he was also, Conrad noticed, very repetitive. His movements very rarely were varied, it was just the same routine over and over again and the more he did it the more Conrad was able to counter and soon they were equal, one neither having the upper hand over the other and they came to a standstill.

“You’re finished,” Conrad growled as he pushed his blade against that of the blond, who was grinning at him over their locked weapons. “There’s nothing you can do to surprise me now.”

“Oh, is that so?” he replied and before Conrad even knew what was happening, the smaller one had swung his sword out wide, sending Conrad reeling back but the boy reached forward and grabbed him by his arm, pushing forward to keep the weapon away from himself for a moment. And then he let go of Conrad’s arm and gave Conrad quite a surprise.

He threw his arms around Conrad’s neck and kissed him full on the mouth.

Conrad froze, his mind going blank and his body going numb as the blond pressed forward, deepening the one-sided kiss and Conrad could hear a faint buzzing in the back of his head as he tried to register just what was going on.

Blond boy with pet fox had been stalking him. Okay, got that.
Conrad smartly went to investigate. Check.
Blond boy had infuriated Conrad. Check, check, and check.
They fought. Alright, Conrad was still following for the most part.
Blond boy kissed Conrad out of the blue.

Nope, that last one was still not making any sense in the grand scheme of things.

And just as suddenly as the kiss had started it was over and Conrad blinked rapidly. He looked up and saw the boy standing, perfectly balanced (how was that even possible?) on a tree branch, Anselm the fox at his side. “Well, then, I’ve gotten what I came here for. Best get back to work,” he said, grinning at Conrad, who just stared blankly back at him. “And since you asked,” the boy added, “you can call me Basil.”

And then he was gone.

Several minutes later Conrad returned to camp and ignored Yozak when he questioned him about what had happened. Instead, he just positioned himself back into his place on guard duty and stared off into the distance for a few minutes before he stood and shot a glare at Yozak and informed him that he was going to bed. And he went to sleep knowing that that obnoxious smile would haunt him in his dreams but at the same time, his mind was racing.

After all, that person – or Basil, rather – had said he hadn’t been involved in the attack on Wolfram.

And yet there had been something distinctly… magical about him. In the way he moved, in his speed, it wasn’t normal, it wasn’t natural, and it wasn’t something that normal Mazoku could do.

Which may or may not mean, Conrad thought as he settled down for sleep, that we have more than just one enemy who possess this strange magic that even Ulrike and the Great Sage don’t know…

And that certainly wasn’t a comforting thought to fall asleep to.

End chapter three.
________________________________________
So I lied, this chapter ended up being shorter than the last. Oh well. I decided that I wanted this was the best place to end it. If I continued on with the next scene this chapter would have been like… ridiculous. This was really the best place to end, yes.

On that note, Basil… was not originally intended to be introduced this early. But I changed my mind last minute and decided to bring him in sooner so I could play with him more. He’ll appear sporadically throughout the story.

Anyway, sorry for the wait on this chapter! I’m sure it certainly doesn’t live up to the expectations people had and I apologize for that. I enjoyed writing it, though (especially the Conrad v. Basil sequence, which was fun.) So I hope you guys still like it and I promise the wait for the next chapter won’t be this long. And hopefully it’ll be a longer chapter; I feel lame writing short chapters like this one. :[

ANYWAY.
Chapter four: The Sirens’ Song of the Sea

As far as criticism goes; I’m looking mainly at characterization here. How did I do on keeping them in-character? That, to me, is my biggest concern and any help and hints would be greatly appreciated.
Comments are loved, constructive criticism appreciated, and flames will be laughed at. If you must flame me, at least put some effort into it. I need a good laugh. 8D

» hide and seek

Thu, 08 May 2008 19:12:21 GMT

Title: Hide and Seek
Author: Alice
Fandom(s): Kyou Kara Maou!
Spoilers: None.
Pairings/Characters: Günter, Günter’s parents
Summary: It took Günter twenty minutes to find her.
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Alice does not own Kyou Kara Maou. And you all should be very, very thankful for that. Alice does, however, own the OCs that appear in this story, in this case, Günter's parents. Or at least, this interpertation of them. XD
Author’s Notes: Chibi!Günter is chibi! 8D Written for 50scenes, prompt table 5, #22: hide.

Hide and Seek

It took him twenty minutes to find her. He wandered around the manor, keeping to the shadows of the walls, peeking around corners for any sight of his mother. He heard the music first, the quiet, gentle music drifting down the hall from a small room that he’d passed many times but had never really paid attention to. He crept towards it and peeked around the partially opened door and saw her. She was sitting before their family’s grand piano, sheet music laid out in front of her, her face framed by the soft curls of her long, blonde hair. A small smile on his face, he stayed behind the door, and listened to her play, her nimble fingers moving across the keyboard with such grace that he’d swear she was an angel. And she didn’t see him and that was how he wanted it to be.

“Come on in and join me instead of peeking around the door. I’d love the company.”

Günter bristled and mentally let out a cry of despair. Never mind, he’d been found! And here he was, thinking he was so stealthy and secret, quiet as a mouse, and no one would ever notice him. He should have realized that she would. She always noticed him no matter how well he hid.

Head bowed in slight shame, Günter stepped out from behind the door and approached her. She watched him with a smile. She patted the vacant place on the seat next to her and held out her arms to help him up. He felt a bit embarrassed that he was still too small to climb up on his own and his cheeks were tinted pink as he raised his little arms for her to pick him up. She placed him on her lap so that he could see the keyboard and ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “Now,” she said soothingly, “why were you hiding over there?”

Günter shook his head, keeping his mouth shut.

“Did you do something bad?”

He shook his head again, fiercer. He was good child, he didn’t do anything bad!
Well, alright, there was the one time he took a cookie from his sister but she hadn’t complained about it and his mother didn’t know so clearly that didn’t count. Clearly.

“Were you… playing a game?”

He shook his head.

“Did you just want to hear me play?”

He nodded, his cheeks going redder.

She laughed, lightly, leaning down to press a small kiss to the top of his head. “There’s nothing at all wrong with that! Music is a wonderful thing, do you like it?”

He nodded again, eyes scanning the keyboard and the notes written across the sheets lying on top of it.

“I’m not surprised at all. Music has always been important to this family. Your grandfather and grandmother used to always sing lullabies to your uncle and I. In their younger days, before I was born, they’d entertain other noble men and merchants and the like who came to call on them by singing. Did I ever tell you that?”

Günter shook his, eyes wide as he took this information in. His memory of his grandmother was hazy but it was hard to imagine her and his grandfather having ever had a pleasant singing voice. Now that she mentioned it, though, Günter could vaguely recall his uncle and a few other people having mentioned from time to time that, once upon a time, they had.

“Your brother and sister are both rather gifted in music as well,” his mother continued, stroking his hair gently. “Though they like to hide it. That seems to be a common trait amongst you three, hiding. I wonder if this one will like to hide, too.” Günter twisted around a bit and reached out tentatively to touch the slight swell of his mother’s tummy. He ran his hand over the fabric covering the bulge and tried to imagine what kind of person was growing inside of it and it baffled him, how he’d come from that small bulge, how his big brother and sister had as well, all started out so tiny and how, according to their mother, they’d all grow to be just as big as she and their father. It made no sense to him but it fascinated him.

She chuckled at him, amused by the look of wonder on his young face. “You love things like this, don’t you?” He nodded and leaned forward to press his ear to the bulge of her tummy, hoping to hear some sign of life there. “You won’t hear the baby yet,” she informed him, frowning a bit. “It’s still a bit too early for that. But soon, very soon. And you’ll be a good big brother, right?”

He grinned up at her, giving yet another nod. She paused for a moment, watching him intently, before she leaned down to whisper in Günter’s ear. “You know, I’ve heard a most strange tale from the maids… they say they can hear you speaking to yourself when you’re alone in your room. And yet, you never speak to anyone. I’ve never heard you utter a single word. If you can talk, why don’t you talk to me?”

His eyes widened in shock and she spoke. He’d been heard? Günter pulled away from her, pouting. This was clearly not his day. “So is it true?” she asked him, tilting her head to the side and pouting right back at him. “You can talk but you won’t talk to me?” He nodded, sadly, his eyes lowered. “Why is that?” He shrugged, still keeping his gaze down. “No real reason, you just don’t want to?” He nodded. “That’s very upsetting… I want to hear your voice. I’m sure you have an adorable voice!”

He blushed deeply and shook his head quickly. “Well, promise me something,” she said. Günter looked up at her again, blinking. “When you do feel like speaking to people… promise me I’ll be the first person you speak to, alright?” He blinked again and then nodded, slowly, a smile spreading across his face. She seemed to glow in joy at his response.

She opened her mouth to speak again but was cut off before a single word could escape her lips.

“ALEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!”

She flinched, and Günter covered his ears with his hands, and they both glanced to the door. “Well, someone’s excited,” she said with a forced smile. Günter nodded solemnly.

They stared at the door for a moment before a man turned the corner to enter the room and as he did, he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground with a loud thud. Günter flailed and tried to escape his mother’s grasp to go to his aid but she set him down on the bench and stood, heading over to the man with her hands on her hips, looking both very concerned and highly annoyed. Günter wrung his hands anxiously as he watched. He’d seen his father take many great tumbles, some worse than this one, but it always worried him just the same.

He watched his mother bend down and grab on to his father’s arm and hoist him upright. He blinked rapidly, trying to regain his senses, and once he did, he turned towards his wife, grinning widely. “Aleit, ohohoho, Aleit! You should have seen it, it was fantastic! Years and years, me and that fountain, and it’s always come out of our entanglements the victor! BUT NOT TODAY! Oho, no, not today, today, Aleit, I was victorious. Did you hear that, Günter?” He turned to look past his wife and grinned at his son. “You’re father is a genius. The villainous fountain has been conquered.”

Günter blinked. His mother blinked twice. His father continued to grin broadly as though he was the most amazing thing in the universe. “You… conquered the fountain? How did you… manage to do that, Klaus?”

“Oh, well, it was quite easy!”

“You’ve been battling that… thing for years.”

“Minor technicality.”

Günter rolled his eyes and turned away, already having lost interest in his father’s crazy antics. His eyes scanned the piano in front of him. Standing up on the bench, he could just reach over to the keys, but he couldn’t reach the sheet music. Still, though, the more he looked at the keys, the more he wanted to play. In the back of his mind, he could still hear his parents talking.

“…and so then, when the fountain tried to jump into my path and engage me in battle once more, I saw it coming! So, the fountain was at a disadvantage. It couldn’t catch me by surprise. AND THUSLY! When I would have normally tumbled over the side of the fountain into its watery depths of doom, I instead leapt up onto its side and daringly walked along its side, and I laughed at the water in mockery, and it bowed in shame at my splendor! And I made it all the way to the other side and leapt down gracefully and carried on my way, the fountain left behind in despair over its defeat! And that, my dear wife, is how I conquered the fountain.”

There was a pause in their conversation as they listened to the shaky music resounding throughout the room, and Aleit von Kleist took in the story that he husband had just recounted, while the man in question continued to grin. “Klaus… it… the fountain is an inanimate object, Klaus. You can’t defeat something that isn’t alive.”

“Why must you burst my bubble, dear?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Klaus. You are absolutely right, you are fabulous, and you’ve done beautifully, I am so proud to be married to a man as brave and courageous and wonderful as you. There, that better?”

“…not really.”

“Oh, well. Tough.”

“…you still love me, though, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Good! Oh, and Aleit?”

“Yes?”

“If you’re here talking to me, who’s playing the piano?”

They both looked, quickly, towards the instrument. Günter was standing on his tip-toes, pressing keys slowly, tentatively, listening to what two notes sounded good together and once he’d found a good combination, he’d go back and play it straight through without hesitation. And it sounded beautiful. Shaky, disjointed, but oddly pretty in its uniqueness.

Günter seemed to notice that the voices of his parents had stopped and he froze, looking slowly over his shoulder to see them staring at him in shock. He blinked at them and they blinked back and Günter moved away from the keyboard. He sat down, eyes wide, on the edge of the bench, swinging his tiny legs over the side. He buried his face in his hands, hoping this would get them to stop looking at him. After a few seconds he peeked out through his fingers to find them still staring at him. He threw his arms up and flailed for a moment before leaping down from the chair and attempted to scamper past his parents but was caught all too quickly and lifted up into his father’s arms. He buried his small head into his father’s shoulder, embarrassed. His father patted his head.

“Now, now, what are you all shy about? That was brilliant!”

Günter shook his head against his father’s shoulder and Klaus rolled his eyes. “Really, Günter, that was amazing! Not… really normal… rather alarming, actually, but still fantastic!”

Günter pushed himself away from his father a bit and frowned at him, confused. Klaus’s train of thought was not one that was easily followed.

“People don’t… generally do that,” his father tried to explain to him. “It takes years and years to be able to play anything somewhat decently, unless you’re just insanely talented, but you, oh you, you are ridiculously talented. You did it in, what? Twenty minutes. Given, that wasn’t an actual song or anything like that, but the fact that you could pull that off at all is fantastic!”

“We have a genius child,” Aleit said calmly, stepping forward and stroking Günter’s hair tenderly. “Our prodigy.” Günter blinked at her, eyes wide. He glanced between the two, taking in their looks of pride at his work and felt a grin spread across his face. They were proud of him! His mother… she was proud of him.

And suddenly, Günter knew what he was going to do. He would learn (he’d already begun to teach himself how to read and he had a great memory, he could recall almost everything he’d read word for word) and soon, once he was a much better reader, he’d read everything, and learn all about history, the world around him, politics, art, music, everything, and he’d keep it all to himself. Hide his voice away from the world. For now.

And in the end he’d show them and relish in the smiles and praise they gave him and it would all be worth the effort, every single second, if it meant he could see his mother smile at him like that again.

FIN
________________________________________
Günter is supposed to be roughly around the equivalent to a human child between two and three years old. So he’s tiny and chubby and cute. 8D

I have an entire past and family scripted out for Günter (since canon deals with it so little). He has a pretty big family in my version, though in this scene we only see his mother and father, who I sadly wasn’t able to develop all that well here since it is just one scene, but I hope to write a few more scenes for this prompt table with Günter and his parents, and his brothers and sisters, and just… deal with his childhood, essentially. This is probably the fluffiest piece of all the ones I plan to do about Günter’s past. The rest will most likely be dark. Not all super-insane dark but this scene is, in the grand scheme of things, the calm before the storm of Günter’s life, so. Yeaaaaaaaaaaah.

Enjoy. 8D

Comments are loved, constructive criticism appreciated, and flames will be laughed at. If you must flame me, at least put some effort into it. I need a good laugh. ♥

» 50scenes prompt table

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 18:57:10 GMT

001.	Twilight.	002.	Burn.	003.	Silence.	004.	Secrets.	005.	Blankets.
006.	Linger.	007.	Clouds.	008.	Liar.	009.	Remember.	010.	Writer's Choice.
011.	Hand.	012.	Distance.	013.	February.	014.	Fill.	015.	Hold.
016.	Fire.	017.	Tomorrow.	018.	Closer.	019.	Heed.	020.	Writer's Choice.
021.	Underneath.	022.	Hide.	023.	Flash.	024.	Anger.	025.	Shame.
026.	Adoration.	027.	Waves.	028.	Apologise.	029.	Waiting.	030.	Writer's Choice.
031.	Watch.	032.	Regret.	033.	Plain.	034.	Shy.	035.	Moonlight.
036.	Melt.	037.	Half.	038.	Leave.	039.	Neutral.	040.	Writer's Choice.
041.	Winter.	042.	Flowers.	043.	Gentle.	044.	Speak.	045.	Last.
046.	Dew.	047.	Night.	048.	Footsteps.	049.	End.	050.	Writer's Choice.

» reprise

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 19:30:32 GMT

Title: Reprise
Author: Alice
Fandom(s): Kyou Kara Maou!
Spoilers: None, really.
Pairings/Characters: Yuuri/Wolfram
Summary: And it was the most beautiful sound Yuuri had ever heard.
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied sex. Very vague.
Disclaimer: Alice does not own Kyou Kara Maou. And you all should be very, very thankful for that.
Author’s Notes: I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile but I hadn’t really had the motivation to get up and do it. And then I was bored one day in English class and thought, “Why don’t I finally write that story?” So I did. And hear it is. ♥

Reprise

Yuuri had always liked music. It was the one thing in the world, he thought, that really connected people. Music crossed oceans and surpassed language barriers, spreading thoughts and ideas and beautiful notes to every reach of the universe. And everyone could hear it and feel and appreciate it and love it, even if they maybe didn’t understand the words. Yuuri himself was a fan of some foreign bands, bands singing in languages he didn’t speak a word of, but he loved them all the same because he could hear it in their voices, hear their passion, their depth, and it moved him just as much as if he really could understand.

The same, he learned, was true across dimensions. There was one time when he brought Wolfram to Earth with him and let him listen to his CD collection. Wolfram didn’t understand a single word being said but he listened almost obsessively and when Yuuri later asked him what he thought, Wolfram replied with wide eyes, “It’s beautiful.”

They themselves were like music.

When Yuuri slapped Wolfram’s cheek and defeated him in the duel the following day, sealing their fate, it was as though they’d been handed a piece of sheet music, a long and difficult duet, and had been left to learn it on their own. It was the most difficult task either of them had ever faced. Neither were good at singing and they didn’t understand what all the symbols and words and letters meant, the placement on the bars, anything. One would sing too loudly, the other too softly, and they just kept missing each other.

Wolfram wasn’t one to give up and he’d be damned if he let Yuuri do so either. He tried, over and over, practicing to get the perfect pitch and observed Yuuri and learned how to approach him and when to let his voice go softer to match Yuuri’s. He stumbled over the words in some places, sometimes going too fast, or forgetting what he was supposed to say, and one or two times he forgot the meaning, but it soon all flooded back to him and he understood.

Yuuri took a bit longer to catch on. At times he felt intimidated by Wolfram and backed down, letting Wolfram’s voice drown him out. At others he felt defensive and frustrated and would sing loudly and angrily, hoping for Wolfram to back down. He sometimes wondered if maybe Wolfram wouldn’t be better off singing with someone else (their voices sounded horrible together, how could they possibly pull of a good duet?) and occasionally he thought about how Wolfram was the last person he wanted to be with. The more time they spent rehearsing together, however, it became more and more clear to Yuuri that despite how incredibly mismatched they were, and how fierce and passionate Wolfram could be, he realized that he was glad it was Wolfram. Wolfram pushed him and didn’t sugarcoat anything and believed in him and Yuuri trusted him. Wolfram gave him the confidence and the will to strive to be a truly fantastic king, in the moments when Yuuri felt weak and inferior and worthless. And for Wolfram’s sake, Yuuri promised, he’d get stronger. Get better. And he’d sing in tune.

Their song started out wild and aggressive, the two clashing head on, ugly. Before long it mellowed out into a very strange pop melody, fast and reckless and in ways hilarious, the two rising and falling together. As it progressed they began to fall in time with each other, the melody becoming slower, far gentler. Towards the end they reached a crescendo, the climax of the story, Wolfram’s voice fading out and Yuuri’s ringing out alone, anguished, desperate, confused and he reached out, finally beginning to make the connection and bridge the gap so they could move forward, together, as one, instead of one in front of the other. And at the end they were together, calm, in perfect harmony, the words that seemed so strange and frightening before now making sense and sounding right, and concluding on a loving note, left quavering in the air long after they were through.

The final stage of their learning in the art of music was to learn to the reprise, an instrumental piece of the same song they’d spent years mastering. It was the most complicated part but in ways the most satisfying to perfect.

Yuuri had never played an instrument before, not really, just learned to play the recorder in school, and he played it badly. Günter had once tried to teach Wolfram how to play the piano but he’d never caught on. So it was comforting for both of them to know they weren’t in it alone and they could learn together.

Yuuri played Wolfram’s body like an instrument, figuring out where to touch, where to press down, where to stroke, and how hard to press, to hear Wolfram make the most beautiful sounds. It took a few tries – he could hardly get it right the first time – but Wolfram helped him, showed him how to play, and before long they set a rhythm between them and their song rang out in the night.

And when it was over, and the last resonating notes fading ceased to ring in their ears, Wolfram moved close to Yuuri and whispered in Yuuri’s ear, his warm breath sending shivers down the king’s spine.

“I love you, Yuuri.”

And it was the most beautiful sound Yuuri had ever heard.

FIN
_______________________________________
This is a shorter story compared to most of mine but I’m pleased with it. I really don’t think it needs to be a whole lot longer than this.

Comments are loved, constructive criticism appreciated, and flames will be laughed at. If you must flame me, at least put some effort into it. I need a good laugh. 8D ♥

» a billion points of light

Fri, 21 Mar 2008 01:53:17 GMT

Title: A Billion Points of Light
Author: Alice
Fandom(s): Kyou Kara Maou!
Spoilers: The end of season two.
Pairings: Yuuri/Wolfram
Summary: It never ceased to amaze Yuuri how different Earth and Shin Makoku, and yet how they are so similar all at once.
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG
Warnings: Is there a warning for fluff? I don’t know. They never kiss or anything of that sort. Does that require a warning? XD
Disclaimer: Alice does not own Kyou Kara Maou. And you all should be very, very thankful for that.
Author’s Notes: IS IT APRIL YET? Sioghsoghosg want season three now *A*

A Billion Points of Light

Earth, Wolfram had come to decide, was not a terribly unpleasant place to stay. He wouldn’t want to live there, absolutely not, but visit for brief periods of time was acceptable (and by brief he generally meant less than two weeks. Not being able to properly communicate with people put a damper on his spirits rather quickly.)

Not that he could admit this to Yuuri. At least, not in a way that might give Yuuri the impression that it was okay to come to Earth often. Still, it was hard to deny the sheer beauty of the place when he was surrounded by it on all sides. He hadn’t really been given the chance to admire it on his first few trips to Earth, but now without any threats or evil (unless those cute schoolgirls Wolfram saw Yuuri admiring counted), he had the opportunity to really look and observe and admire what was around him.

The city wasn’t all that spectacular, far too industrialized for Wolfram’s taste, though Yuuri constantly pointed out that it was one of the less advanced cities in Japan. He did enjoy the trees a great deal, the ones with the small pink and white flowers (“cherry blossoms,” Yuuri had called them.)

“We have trees similar to this in Shin Makoku,” he’d informed Yuuri the first time he saw them. “Not exactly like this, the flowers are a bit bigger and they’re blue instead of pink and white. They’re lovely, but they only grow in the outer most areas of the country so I haven’t seen one since I was really little.”

He didn’t mention to Yuuri that he found these trees to be far more beautiful.

“It’s strange,” Wolfram commented to Yuuri one day when the young king returned home from school, “I was thinking today of how I would describe them – the cherry blossoms I mean – to Gwendal, mother, and Günter when we get back, since I’m sure they’re something they would have liked to have seen, something they’d appreciate, but I can’t seem to find the right words.”

Yuuri blinked at Wolfram, fidgeting a bit as the blond boy set his gaze on him. “That’s… a bit ironic, actually. A week or so ago, we were asked in school to write a paper describing what we considered to be the most beautiful thing in the world… and I couldn’t do it.” He let out a nervous laugh and tugged at his collar, seemingly very uncomfortable. “It’s strange how it’s so easy sometimes to take a very simple object, an object that isn’t generally viewed as something beautiful, and with words you can make it beautiful. However, when presented with something that’s truly, completely breathtaking and asked to describe it… it can’t be done.”

“Maybe,” Wolfram said, running his hands through his hair and looking down at the table, where a few pictures Yuuri had taken of the cherry blossoms for him were littered about, “maybe it’s because no amount of words could possibly do it justice. No matter how skilled a writer you are, there are some things that simply can’t be captured and live up to the real thing.”

Yuuri watched Wolfram, silently, his head tilted to the side as he examined the boy in front of him, taking in every detail of his figure, his posture, how he parted his hair, the folds of his clothes. Everything. “That’s true,” he said, a smile gracing his lips. “Some things are just too beautiful to ever be done justice with words.” He had one such thing – or rather, one such person – but he lapsed into silence and watched Wolfram admire the photos and kept his thoughts to himself.

________________________________________________________

I have to wonder sometimes,” Yuuri said one day, looking at Wolfram with a dazed look on his face, as though he wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, let alone why he was saying it. “I have to wonder… why someone like you would love someone like me.”

Wolfram froze in mid-action, his hand which has been gliding over the camera he was examining, not lifting his gaze to look at the other boy. “Why… would you wonder about that? Is it so odd that I love you?”

“No! That’s not it…”

“Are you that disgusted by it?”

“It’s not that either!”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“It’s just…” Yuuri sighed and leaned back in the chair he was seated in across from Wolfram. “It’s just… you remember that guy in town yesterday? The one who kept hitting on you?” Wolfram nodded, looking disgusted at the thought. “He kept talking about how… pretty you were. And that group of girls that were giggling when we passed… they said the same things too…”

“I don’t see your point, Yuuri.”

“I just… I mean… look at me!” Yuuri straightened suddenly and gestured at himself, pointing at his head and moving down. “I’m so… plain looking compared to you. You’re so beautiful; you outshine me in every way possible! What about me could you find appealing.”

“I don’t like you for your looks, Yuuri, though for the record you are adorable.”

“Even so,” he replied, shaking his head, a frown set firmly in place. “You’re always calling me a wimp and you used to treat me like I was inferior. You don’t know,” he added quickly as Wolfram opened his mouth to retaliate, “but you did and… I don’t know. I guess I just don’t get… what about me you’d find appealing, looks or otherwise. Our personalities completely clash! And I just don’t get… why?”

Wolfram turned the camera over in his eyes, taking in every detail, looking at each button and assessing what its function was. He didn’t raise his eyes to look at Yuuri as he spoke. “Yuuri, why is the world round?”

“Eh?”

“The world is round. Why?”

“I… I don’t know! It just… is! I’m sure there’s a reason I just don’t know it! What does that have to do with anything?”

“The world is round,” Wolfram said, raising the camera up and examining the screen and how it worked. “There’s a reason for it, probably, but you don’t know what that reason is but it’s there and you know it’s there but do you ever really question it?”

Yuuri blinked. “I… no?”

“Precisely,” the Mazoku said, placing the camera on the table and smiling, pleased with himself.

Yuuri blinked again. “Wolfram, I don’t get how that answers my question!”

“Exactly!” Wolfram finally looked at Yuuri and the young king suddenly felt as though he was burning from the intensity of his eyes, such a vivid, livid green that it sent shivers up his spine. “It doesn’t. The world is round and it keeps turning and turning and there are reasons for it, some that are obvious, others that require thinking and digging, but they aren’t things that you really think about all the time but come to accept as fact anyway. That’s sort of what this is like. It’s there, no doubt it’s there and there are reasons for it, but you just go with it and accept it. Don’t question it or ask why, just know that it exists and is strong and constant and will never, ever change. Not while you’re alive.”

Yuuri blinked, his brow furrowed in confusion. After a minute his eyes widened as though he’d just had some sort of great epiphany and he smiled. “I don’t… completely get the comparison! But I think… I kinda get what you’re trying to say. Just be appreciative to the fact that it’s there and don’t bother with the why or how.” Wolfram nodded and Yuuri’s grin grew. “I guess… I’ll just have to trust you, then! I still think you deserve better but…” He paused here, tilting his head to the side, entirely focused on Wolfram. “But… thank you. For loving me so much. It’s a strange feeling… but good, at the same time. That someone in the world, especially you, Wolfram… love me.”

“As you should,” Wolfram said, raising the camera in front of him to conceal from Yuuri that he was blushing, and mentally reminding himself not to get his hopes up, while Yuuri continued to grin, and they passed the rest of the evening away in a comfortable silence.

________________________________________________________

“It’s weird,” Yuuri commented to Wolfram the evening before their return to Shin Makoku.

“What’s weird?” Wolfram asked, raising an eyebrow at the other boy who was standing by the window staring listlessly up at the darkening sky.

“The sky is weird.”

“Why is the sky weird?”

“Because. It looks like Shin Makoku’s sky but it’s not.” He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

“I still don’t get why it’s weird.”

Yuuri was quiet for a moment, drumming his fingers against the window sill. Wolfram frowned and moved to stand next to him, looking him over for a sign of what was ailing him. With his gaze still turned upwards, Yuuri spoke.

“On the first night I spent here on Earth… after I chose to stay here, instead of Shin Makoku… I looked up at the sky and it occurred to me. All those times you and I were separated, or Conrad and I, or Gwendal, Günter, whoever, and I were apart from each other… no matter where in the world we were, I could look up at the sky and know that wherever you were, you would be looking up at the same sky as I was. Maybe the sky would look different, different stars above you, but still the same sky.” He paused; brow furrowing and a small, bitter laugh escaped his lips. “It wasn’t like that when I was here. I was looking up at this sky, my sky, which looks so much like your sky but isn’t the same sky. Oddly enough, that’s what really made it sink in that I wasn’t going to see you again. We weren’t under the same sky anymore.”

“But you were wrong,” Wolfram pointed out, placing his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. “See? I’m still here. You came back.”

“I know that…” Yuuri said, leaning slightly into Wolfram’s touch without consciously noticing himself doing so. “It’s just the idea of it is… kind of alarming to me.” He reached forward suddenly and pushed the window open and leaned forward on his elbows so his face was just barely out the window, a gentle breeze filtering in. Wolfram noted in the back of his mind that the stars were reflected dimly in Yuuri’s large, dark eyes. “There’s a billion points of light up there,” Yuuri said, quietly, “and the world shifts and the ones we can see changes but they are all still there. It’s weird to be under a sky with another billion points of light and none of them are familiar. None of them are the same.”

Wolfram didn’t speak for a moment, following Yuuri’s gaze. He let out a small laugh. “I’m impressed with you, Yuuri. You’re not normally this perceptive.”

A lighthearted chuckle was his response. “I know, it’s just… it’s something that I noticed that really bothered me. And I just think it’s weird. Same sky but different. It’s a bit upsetting, you know?”

Memories immediately flooded back to Wolfram of the days following Yuuri’s departure; how he couldn’t stand to so much as look out the window at the star filled sky at night and how those twinkling lights had seemed to mock so much more than bring him comfort in those times. His lips curled upwards in a bittersweet smile. “Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

________________________________________________________

Yuuri wasn’t one for staircases, especially long, winding staircases that seemed to go on forever and ever, and definitely not narrow ones that made him feel as though the walls were closing in on him as he ascended. As such, being forcibly dragged up such a staircase in the middle of the night, after being rudely awakened by a somewhat impatient Wolfram, was a less than pleasant experience for Yuuri. He didn’t complain, though. Wolfram seemed eager to show Yuuri whatever it was he wanted to show him and Yuuri was curious as to what was so special that it couldn’t wait until morning. Wolfram had specifically instructed him to wear something loose and comfortable; not his pajamas but not his normal uniform, either. Wolfram was dressed similarly and Yuuri couldn’t fathom what Wolfram could want to show him that would require such a change and why he had insisted on bringing a blanket.

“We’re here,” Wolfram said, suddenly, and Yuuri noticed they’d reached the top and were now in front of a door. They must’ve been in one of the tallest towers in the castle, Yuuri noted, glancing out a small window to his left and taking in just how high up they were. “Come on in,” Wolfram said, pulling a key out of his pocket, unlocking the door, and swinging it open. Yuuri followed Wolfram in and immediately felt his breath catch in his throat.

There was a garden on the balcony, not nearly as grand as the ones down below, but equally as beautiful, possibly because it was more simplistic. There was grass beneath Yuuri’s feet and a grove of Conrad Stands Upon the Earth a ways to his right as well as several lovely lilac flowers that Yuuri had never seen before scattered around here and there. There was a bench in the middle and Yuuri could see past it a place where the ground seemed to have been turned up, ruined, and never mended. He looked around again, taking it all in, before looking to Wolfram for an explanation of why this was here.

Wolfram seemed to hear the unspoken question.

“When we were younger,” he explained, looking around at the place fondly, “shortly after Günter first came to this place, tension between Shin Makoku started rising and it was deemed unsafe for us to come out into the gardens in the evening. Günter thought that wasn’t fair to us, because we liked the gardens, and saw how they seemed to put us at ease and so he convinced mother to have a special mini garden just for us placed here. It took almost a year and a half for it to become usable for us but it was well worth the wait. In the evenings, Günter brought us up here and would read us stories and teach us about the stars and their movements and what they meant, the tales about them. Teach us things we didn’t learn about in our lessons and just… help us relax and relieve us of our stress.”

“All three of you?”

“Yes. It was one of the few times we all could be together and one of the few times I could stand to be around Conrart. It was… nice. See that over there?” He pointed to where the ground was destroyed and Yuuri nodded. “Believe it or not, that’s where Gwendal first used his magic successfully. Almost knocked Günter off the balcony, if I remember correctly. He was proud, though.”

“So wait… do you guys still come up here?”

Wolfram nodded. “Not together like we did before and not as frequently… but look at this place. It’s still alive and thriving. The maids can’t get up here, only Gwendal, Conrart, Günter and I have access to this place. So we take care of it… come up here to think and reminisce, I guess. Anyway,” Wolfram turned suddenly and grabbed Yuuri’s hand, “let’s go!”

Yuuri couldn’t even open his mouth to respond before Wolfram dragged him over to where the bench was. He released Yuuri’s hand as they got there and proceeded to place the blanket on the ground and then lay on his back, facing the sky. He patted the area next to him. “Come on.”

“Uh, Wolfram,” Yuuri said sheepishly, looking at the prince as though he was just a bit crazy, “there’s a bench here you know.”

Wolfram nodded up at him. “Yes I know but you can’t get as good a view. Come down here.”

Yuuri sighed but complied with Wolfram’s command, lying himself out on the grass besides Wolfram and turned his gaze upwards. Thousands upon thousands of stars blinked down at him. “It’s a really clear night tonight,” he commented, not sure what else to say.

“Yeah. That’s why I picked tonight.”

“You’ve been planning this?”

“Yeah.”

Silence lapsed between them, Yuuri growing a bit bored and counting the stars and Wolfram fidgeting a bit beside him, seemingly impatient. After several minutes of awkward silence, Wolfram gasped. “There! There it is!”

“What?” Yuuri said, looking around quickly before he saw what it was Wolfram was talking about and his mouth fell open. “Wow…” he muttered, completely in awe of the spectacle. “That’s a comet…” he said, eyes following it as it moved rather slowly across the dark sky, one streak of blue against the black of night.

Wolfram nodded, imitating Yuuri’s movements watching the comet. “They call it Shinou’s Eternal Light. It comes around once every year and that’s probably why you haven’t heard of it before since it’s not a rare occurrence but… still, it’s the first time since you came here and that makes it special. So I wanted you to see.”

“That’s a lot like something we have on Earth,” Yuuri said. “Though it is a rarity there. It’s still… really beautiful.”

“Definitely.”

They lapsed into silent and watched it cross the sky and just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared over the horizon and was gone. Neither of them budged or said a word, still staring up at the sky as though they expected it to suddenly return for an encore.

Finally, Wolfram nudged Yuuri to get his attention and once he had it he pointed to a tight bunch of stars. “Have I ever told you about the old legends about what happens to you after you die?”

“…do I want to hear this legend? I don’t know if I really would like to hear about death…”

“It’s not depressing. Actually, it’s sort of happy.”

“Oh.” Yuuri blinked. “Well. Go on then.”

“In Shin Makoku… we don’t believe in things like Heaven or Hell the way humans do. We believe in reincarnation for some people but a very popular belief handed down from before Shinou’s time is that when we die, we go to an eternal paradise; everyone, including those who, by human standards, would normally be condemned to Hell. They say that those who’ve sinned in life are not sent to suffer to instead are placed in the sky, isolated, to think, reflect, and repent and once they’ve completed that they then can enter paradise. So every star we see,” Wolfram said, gesturing once more at the lights above them, “is a soul waiting to rest in peace and whenever you see a star go out, it’s that soul finally reaching their salvation.”

“Ah…” Yuuri wasn’t sure how to properly respond to that. It was hard for him to imagine the stars as souls, especially since he knew from school back home that that was a far cry from the truth, but even so, it was an interesting idea and in a way sweet. He liked that everyone could reach this paradise Wolfram spoke of.

Yuuri did a double take and squinted at a certain point in the sky. “Hey, Wolfram?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I just saw a star go out.”

Wolfram leaned closer to Yuuri, trying to see from his angle and frowned. “I think you might be imagining things, Yuuri.”

“No, no, I really saw it! A star went out!”

Wolfram frowned deeper and continued to scan the sky. Yuuri glanced at him and then burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” Wolfram asked, bewildered.

“Y-you look so serious!” Yuuri said as his brief laughing fit calmed down, grinning widely at the other boy. “Like it’s really something very distressing to you!”

“It’s not…” Wolfram said, pouting a bit. “I just think you’re crazy is all. Now,” he turned his attention back to the stars and Yuuri knew he was trying to change the subject, “I’m going to see if we can spot any constellations… oh! There!”

The rest of the night was spent with Wolfram pointing out various stars, constellations, recalling different tales Günter had told him about when he was younger, and Yuuri listened, completely captivated. There were many strange things in both of the worlds he belonged to but the strangest by far was how the two could be so different and so similar all at the same time and Yuuri couldn’t fathom how he had no noticed it before. And here it was, spread out in front of him like white sparkles on a black sheet of velvet, small but so easy to see. “You know what’s sad?” Yuuri said, interrupting Wolfram’s explanation on the name of the Constellation Rotation.

“No. What?”

“I really wish I had a camera right now,” Yuuri said, and Wolfram noticed once more how, even under the sky of Shin Makoku, he could still see the stars in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Yeah. Me too.”

________________________________________________________

Conrad came up to the balcony garden in the early in the morning at Günter’s request. (“The plants need watering, Conrad, and I can’t go! I must prepare for my lessons with his majesty!”) He couldn’t much complain, however, as he enjoyed being up here by himself where none could disturb him and he could find peace.

What he found instead on this morning was Yuuri and Wolfram, curled up together on the ground, a blanket tangled all around them, fast asleep. Upon finding them, Conrad found himself relieved that it was he who found them and not Günter. The advisor was sure to have thought the worst. They didn’t wake when Conrad knelt down beside them and gave them both a light shake and it became obvious that they had been up very late. It was also hard for him to miss the fact that Yuuri’s arm was thrown over Wolfram’s waist and Wolfram’s head was resting against the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

A fond smile on his face, Conrad seated himself on the bench and waited patiently for his godson and little brother to wake up. And two hours later, when Yuuri would wake up, he’d spring to his feet, declaring over and over that it wasn’t at all what it looked like. He’d throw his arms in the air and flail a bit, moving away from Wolfram and telling Conrad to wipe that grin off his face. His antics would wake Wolfram, who’d accuse Yuuri of being noisy and a wimp and that would lead into an argument like every other morning, and Conrad would watch, that knowing smile still in place. And they’d all leave together, and Yuuri and Wolfram wouldn’t explain to Conrad, and Conrad wouldn’t mention to anyone, and they’d leave the blanket they’d slept on behind, forgotten, the only proof that their night under the stars had happened at all.

FIN

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I honestly can’t decide if I like this piece of not. Part of me does, part of me doesn’t. I really don’t know, so I’d love some feedback. Love, hate, want more, want no more? Not more of this piece, obviously, it’s a one-shot, but more like it, I guess? And as always, thoughts on characterization and how I can improve in that department are much appreciated.

Thank you all for reading!

…please be April now. *A*