08:
The boy slurped loudly from his straw, thick globs of chocolate and vanilla
milkshake traveling up the narrow tube and into his mouth with each breath he
took. He finally came up for air, laughing a little at how childish he was
being although there was no denying the delight on his features.
“Wow! This is really delicious, Mr. Weller! I still can’t get over how such a
fancy-looking place can sell such good milkshakes!”
Conrad laughed softly as he stirred his coffee, genuinely amused at Murata’s
antics. He didn’t quite know what to make of this young man yet for Murata had
displayed moments of great maturity. After their goodbyes to Mrs. Shibuya at
the train station – Conrad had politely declined her invitation for dinner
since her obvious admiration for his supposed good looks made him slightly
embarrassed – he offered to bring Murata to this creamery for a quick treat.
Murata had agreed whole-heartedly and during the drive, they talked about
baseball and school, neither bringing up the topic of the two boys they had
just sent away at the station. It seemed as if they were both stalling for
time, testing each other out and waiting for the right moment to begin the real
conversation.
“This is Wolfram’s favorite ice cream shop,” Conrad began slowly, hardly aware
of the wistful tone of his voice. “I brought him here the day after we moved in
and he quickly made it his second home. I think he must have gone through
everything on the menu by now.”
Murata sucked on his straw, dark eyes watching the older man carefully. “You
miss him already, don’t you? Are you two really that close? You don’t even look
like brothers.”
Conrad gave a small smile and took a sip of his drink. He had no idea why he
felt the need to answer the rather personal questions, but there was something
about this boy that made him feel…comfortable – which was odd,
considering they had just met less than a week ago.
“Yes, I do miss him. He might be a spoiled little pain-in-the-ass but I love
him all the same. And yes, we really are brothers. We have the same mother but
different fathers,” he explained. “The same goes for Gwendal.”
Murata’s eyes widened behind his glasses and Conrad chuckled at the sight. He
looked like an owl when he did that.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not as it seems,” the ex-baseball player
said with a raised hand. “My mother’s quite…homely and not as wanton as the
situation might brand her.”
“I never thought of any such thing,” Murata mumbled and lowered his gaze to his
drink, hiding the smile that had come to his visage. “But thanks for explaining
anyway.”
“So, tell me,” Conrad said, now deciding that the time for small talk was over.
“What you meant at the train station.”
Murata took his time and took another huge slurp of milkshake before sitting
back with a small sigh. “Well, I don’t know about Wolfram, but Shibuya’s been
acting strange the last few weeks.” He met Conrad’s gaze and held it. “I think
he has a split personality or at least he acts that way.”
Conrad tried to mask his surprise but he failed miserably at it. Murata’s smile
told him that the boy had noticed.
“So you’ve seen Wolfram behaving that strangely as well?”
Conrad nodded softly and stared into the creamy but foamy liquid in his cup. “I
told that to Gwendal as well but he assumed that Wolfram was just stressed out
about the upcoming try-outs. But I know better. I live with him and I’ve seen
moments when he looks like he’s…”
“…somewhere else entirely?” Murata finished.
“Yes.” Conrad leaned closer, his heartbeat racing with gratitude at finally
finding someone who understood what he was going through. “And I could have
sworn that he kept murmuring Yuuri’s name while asleep at night. Did they ever
speak to each other before the day of the try-outs?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Murata admitted, his brows furrowed in thought. “But
you’re right. On that day the two schools played in the regionals, Yuuri’s
seeming obsession with Wolfram became apparent. Although he tried to deny it
lots of times, I could see it in his eyes. He even falls asleep in class and
ends up muttering Wolfram’s name. It’s embarrassing.”
Conrad couldn’t help laughing at the flabbergasted look on Murata’s visage. “I
don’t want to say you sound jealous but well…”
“Oh, trust me, I’m not jealous,” the boy denied with a wave of his hands. “I
just don’t want my friend going crazy over some boy who doesn’t really care
about him. But here…I want to show you something.”
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and fished out a piece of paper that
had been folded up neatly. Opening it, he pushed it across the table towards
Conrad, who picked it up to stare at the elegant handwriting with bemusement on
his features.
“Shin…Makoku…,” he read out slowly. The words had been written over and over
again all over the paper as if the person was determined not to forget it.
“What does this mean?”
Murata shrugged. “I found it in Shibuya’s bag when I asked to borrow some notes
from him. It was written all over the last page of his notebook and I ripped
out a small piece of it. I did ask him about it in a casual way afterwards.”
“And what did he say?”
Murata scratched the bridge of his nose and pushed his glasses higher on it.
“There was a strange look that filled his eyes for a moment – kinda blink and
you miss it type thing – but he shook his head and said he had no idea what it
meant. He says he had no idea of how that got there and assumed someone had
stolen his book and played a prank on him. It certainly doesn’t look like his
handwriting…”
This time he brought out his wallet to pull out a sheet of paper. Murata placed
it on the table beside the first and both men compared the writings. The sheet
containing a list of baseball schedules looking untidy and careless – a sad
piece of penmanship in comparison to the graceful loops and swirls of the
writer of ‘Shin Makoku’.
“This is Shibuya’s real handwriting,” Murata explained as he stabbed the
schedule with a finger. “See the difference?”
“Indeed,” Conrad murmured, his brows furrowed in a frown. “And you are sure he
didn’t lend the book to anyone else?”
“I doubt it,” Murata replied. “He doesn’t really have a lot of friends in
school, Mr. Weller and if he did lend it to anyone, why would he or she write
Shin Makoku all over it? However, it does sound like a place…”
“A foreign country?”
“Perhaps, but where? I went to the school library to check the atlases there
and nothing came up. Not even an internet search helped in anyway. It’s as if
the place doesn’t even exist, but I’m sure it’s got to be somewhere. My gut
instinct tells me that.”
Conrad leaned back on his seat and tapped his fingers restlessly on the table.
He remained silent for a long time while Murata continued to watch him
carefully. Finally, he lifted his gaze to meet the boy’s curious one. “So let’s
just assume that this Shin Makoku is indeed a place…what connection does it
have to the boys?”
“Reincarnation.”
Conrad gave a choked sound and tried to stifle a laugh. “You don’t really
believe in that…?”
“Trust me, I thought it was crazy at first but that’s the only logical explanation
I can come up with. Why don’t we go search Wolfram’s room for some clues?”
Murata interrupted with a light smirk. “I know you don’t believe me, Mr.
Weller. I can see it in your eyes. You think I’m going on a wild goose chase
here and should let sleeping dogs lie, correct?”
Conrad had the grace to blush at the insinuation but Murata waved off whatever
protest he might have had. “I know, I know and believe me, I wouldn’t fall for
my story if I were in your shoes, Mr. Weller. But I do know that this Shin
Makoku place could be the key to whatever’s happening to Shibuya and Wolfram. I
don’t know if it’s a good or bad omen but I don’t want to lose my friend, just
as I’m sure you don’t want to lose your brother either.”
Conrad felt something cold and heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. “What
are you trying to say, Murata?”
The boy sighed sadly and stared at the pieces of paper on the table. “I’m
saying that if we don’t try to find a way to stop whatever’s happening right
now, the Yuuri and Wolfram we know now might be lost…forever.”
Conrad sucked in a harsh breath, his hands forming tight fists at the very idea
of Wolfram becoming someone else entirely. “But where,” he began slowly,
licking his suddenly dry lips. “Where do we begin? What do we do?!”
Murata leaned forward again to place a hand upon Conrad’s and for a brief
moment, the older man was sure he felt a reassuring surge of warmth creep up
his arm and right to his heart. He gasped softly and met the calm dark eyes of
the boy sitting across from him.
Who are you really, Murata Ken? Why do I get the feeling you’re not all you
claim to be.
“Don’t worry too much, Mr. Weller,” Murata was saying as he gave Conrad’s hand
another gentle squeeze before releasing it. “I know this might sound extreme,
but I do know a High Priestess at a local temple on the outskirts of the city.
My family and I go there to pray, so you can say we’re on friendly terms with
her.”
“What is a High Priestess going to do?” Conrad asked in confusion, still
feeling the after effects of Murata’s touch.
“I don’t know,” came the enigmatic reply as the boy reached for his milkshake
to drink again. “But damn, I’ve exhausted all logical explanation, maybe it’s
time we sought another source of knowledge, hmm? Not all answers can be found
in books, Mr. Weller.”
“Indeed,” Conrad mumbled softly as he reached for his cup. “So when do we get
to meet this priestess of yours?”
Murata grinned in delight. “I’ll give her a call today and when she says it’s
all right to come, I’ll call you to set up a date. Is that okay with you?”
Conrad smiled. “You are in charge here, Murata. So I’ll follow wherever you
go.”
It wasn’t a five-star accommodation by any stretch of the imagination, but it
was comfortable and Wolfram figured it couldn’t get any worse. Besides the bunk
bed, there was a table and two chairs at the other end of the room as well as
two closets for each player. A long, narrow window was their only source of
sunlight and fresh air and after several pathetic attempts from Yuuri to open
up the latch, Wolfram gave it a fierce yank and finally managed to lift the
lower portion of it much to his companion’s chagrin. It did give them a great
view of the baseball fields and woodland beyond it.
Two pairs of baseball uniforms had been set out with a note attached saying
that if they weren’t the right fit, they were to be returned to the main office
building for an exchange first thing in the morning. Fresh linen had been
placed in the closet as well and before long both boys were making up their
beds and pillows…
“Stop bouncing so much up there,” Wolfram grumbled as he felt Yuuri shake the
bed yet again with his erratic movements. He sincerely hoped Yuuri wouldn’t be
a terrible sleeper or Wolfram was sure he would get little to no rest at night.
“I can’t help it,” came the slightly muffled voice as Yuuri dove across the bed
to tuck in the other end of the bed sheet. “You try making a bed while hanging
off a ladder.”
“Wimp,” Wolfram muttered beneath his breath, although he could feel another
smile tugging his lips.
“Did you say something?” Yuuri asked, sticking his head over the edge of his
bed with a puzzled look on his features.
“No, nothing,” Wolfram replied as he sat on the bed with a soft grunt of
satisfaction at having completed one task. He opened his bag and began to bring
out his clothes, just as Yuuri leaped to the floor with an agility that was
rather cool to watch, if it hadn’t frightened the hell out of Wolfram.
“What are you doing?! Do you want to kill yourself?!”
Yuuri grinned from his crouched position and Wolfram sucked in a breath at how
different Yuuri seemed to look at that very moment.
He’s changing…I think he just might be changing right before my eyes…oh god…
“Would you be worried about me if I hurt myself?” Yuuri asked with a light
smirk as if he had caught Wolfram’s thoughts and promptly got struck so hard
with a pillow that it sent him tumbling backwards and falling on his rear.
“Hey!”
“Stop being such an idiot and unpack!” Wolfram muttered, lowering his head to
hide the flush which had risen to his cheeks. He tried to steady his racing
heart, telling himself that the question hadn’t gotten him thinking of just
what he would really do if something did happen to Yuuri.
I’d go crazy, he thought wildly as he all but tossed his clothes on the
bed in haphazard fashion. I’d actually go…crazy.
/You swore to protect him…/
“Bullshit.”
He was unaware of the slightly concerned look he was receiving from Yuuri who,
for his part, was wondering why the blond was muttering to himself. He wondered
if it was a good time to bring up the topic about their mind-reading abilities
but figured it could wait because…
“Hallo, boys!” came the loud greeting from Keiichi, who had flung the door open
and was already dressed in a light blue yukata. He looked as if he was
spending the night at an onsen and with the way his bare chest was showing
beneath the cloth, Wolfram was sure that the older boy didn’t have on much or
anything else on underneath!
“Keiichi!” Yuuri returned the greeting with so much enthusiasm that Wolfram
felt something hot fill his chest. He gripped the edge of his bed tightly,
forcing a smile on his features while reminding himself that Yuuri meant
nothing to him, so it didn’t really matter if some bisexual was hitting on the
idiotic moron.
/But he’s your fiancé. You shouldn’t let that happen!/
Fiance?! Are you out of your mind?! We can’t get engaged…!
“What do you think you’re doing?” He blinked at the sound of his voice, unaware
he had even spoken as he watched Keiichi throw his arms around Yuuri in a hug.
And damn it! Yuuri wasn’t even trying to stop it! Or if he was, he was making
weak attempts at doing so.
“Oooh, sorry, sorry,” Keiichi replied with a laugh as he released Yuuri to grin
widely at the scowling boy. “I won’t touch the boyfriend anymore…”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” came the simultaneous replies from both Yuuri and
Wolfram. They stared at each other in surprise (mild hurt) before
turning away quickly.
“Hmmm,” Keiichi pursed his lips in thought and then placed a finger against his
forehead as if really contemplating the situation. “I sense much confusion and
pain between you two. Your auras were off the chart for a minute. You,” he
pointed to Wolfram. “have a fiery aura, like fire. You have a rather short
temper and are quick to jump to erroneous assumptions. And you,” he pointed to
Yuuri. “have a much cooler aura, like water. You are usually level-headed and
like to see the good in people. But do you know what you get when you mix fire
and water?”
“Ash?” Yuuri volunteered with a soft laugh that felt forced even to him.
“No, brainiac,” Keiichi replied with a wag of his finger. “You get steam! And I
sense a lot of steam in this room…”
“Well keep your senses to yourself,” Yoichiro said as he too walked into the
room, waving lightly to the other boys. “Hi again. Guess who my roommate is.”
“Why you, my precious one,” Keiichi crowed as he threw his arms around
Yoichiro’s neck, making kissing noises while the brown-haired boy tried to push
him off. “Finally, we get to be together.”
“Stop it, Keiichi! Knock it off! Goddamn it, I told you to…!”
Yuuri and Wolfram could only watch the boys antics feeling a sense of déjà vu
wash over them.
We were once like that, weren’t we, Wolfram?
The blond flushed at the thought and continued to fold his clothes as neatly as
possible but he had felt it too and the memories it evoked for him weren’t very
happy ones.
You always pushed me aside. You thought I was a burden to you at first,
didn’t you?
He hadn’t meant to send that thought but Yuuri had heard it all the same and he
sucked in a harsh breath at the sadness within it. He lowered his gaze as if
ashamed and sat down heavily on the chair again. This motion seemed to break
the friendly argument between their visitors as they stared at the two silent
boys in the room.
“Hmm…kinda got intense all of a sudden, didn’t it?” Yoichiro whispered to
Keiichi, who now had a frown on his features. “I told you we shouldn’t have
barged in here.”
In a much louder tone, he tried to apologize. “Sorry, we just wanted to tell
you we were your neighbors, so if you want to hang out with us tonight, that’s
fine…or I’m sure you both want to be alone…”
“I’ll come,” Yuuri replied as he rose to his feet quickly. The sudden urge to
get away from the room overwhelmed him. He wasn’t sure if it was guilt but he
knew that being with Wolfram now would bring back more memories that he wasn’t
quite ready to face yet.
Yoichiro looked uncertain as he glanced at Wolfram who was still ‘busy’ with
his clothes. “Are you sure…?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Yuuri replied with a small smile as he motioned for the boys
to lead the way. “I need to…clear my head a little anyway.”
“O…okay,” Yoichiro replied. “But it’s still a mess though and Keiichi’s got his
posters all over the wall already…”
Their voices trailed off as they left the room although Keiichi lingered a
moment longer. “You can come later if you want,” he invited with a warm smile.
“I’m sure he’s just as confused as you are…”
“Thank you,” Wolfram interrupted curtly without turning around to look at the
other boy. “But I’ll be fine.” He held his breath and waited for the door to
close behind Keiichi and when it finally did, he groaned and fell back on the
bed heavily.
“I’ll be fine,” he whispered to the silent room. “After all….I’m used to it.”
Yuuri had assumed that he had an impressive baseball card collection but after
looking through both Keiichi’s and Yoichiro’s stash, his paled in comparison by
a mile! He had never seen so many rare cards in his life and both boys
confessed that they had spent plenty of money getting them. Keiichi had an
older brother in the States, who was able to get such rare Topps and Fleers
brand cards for him. Those could easily go for at least 20,000 yen each!
Time passed quickly as they talked about their favorite sport and Yuuri was
glad that neither boy brought up Wolfram in the conversation. He knew he was
being a coward and couldn’t even imagine going back into the room to face
Wolfram after the stunt he had pulled earlier in the evening.
What am I doing? He stared at his hands, idly listening to Keiichi and
Yoichiro arguing over something again in the background. Why…why am I here?
/You should be with him, you coward! Don’t make the same damn mistakes I did,
Shibuya!/
He winced and held his hands to his head, knowing that the demon king within
him was more than upset at this point.
“Are you okay, Yuuri?” Keiichi asked with a light frown of concern on his
features. “Maybe you should turn in for the night. We’ve got to wake up at six
tomorrow and you must be tired.”
“Yeah…yeah, I guess that’s it,” Yuuri mumbled as he rose to his feet, having to
place a hand against the top part of the bunk bed to steady himself. “Thanks
for inviting me over…”
“No problem,” Yoichiro replied quickly. “You are both welcome anytime. Do you
want me to escort you to your room?”
Yuuri laughed a little. “It’s fine. I can find my way on my own.”
He waved goodbye and stepped out, closing the door quietly behind him. It was
now much quieter in the hallway, although music and chatter seeped through the
closed doors. He was sure the coaches would soon be making their way to each
floor to make sure everyone was turned in for the night and as his stomach
growled, Yuuri realized that he had missed dinner as well. He stood before the
door to his room and took a deep breath.
I’ll…I’ll apologize and try to make it up to him…
Nodding softly at his decision, he twisted the doorknob gently (a part of him
was almost sure that Wolfram would have locked him out of the room) and stepped
into the dimly lit room. The light came from the street lamps outside and it
cast a pale glow on the objects in the room. To his surprise but admitted
relief, Wolfram was already fast asleep it seemed. Yuuri took a tentative step
towards the bed, when he noticed a picture frame on the table. Picking it up,
he could make out the smiling faces of the three brothers all standing around a
seated and stunning blond woman.
They look so cool, Yuuri thought. And almost royal-like…Wolfram looks
most like her.
Deducing that the woman must be their mother, he placed the picture back on the
table before noticing the uniform Wolfram had already laid out for tomorrow.
Always prepared, aren’t you? He finally glanced at the lump beneath the
blanket which had only tufts of blond hair sticking out from the top. He
wondered if Wolfram was really asleep or if he was just avoiding having to talk
to Yuuri. However, his unspoken question was answered as Wolfram suddenly
changed sleeping positions, causing the blanket to slide off his body and
nearly to the floor.
Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.
Curled up in a fetal position, his expression reminiscent of an angel in a
painting, Wolfram was clad in an unexpectedly pink nightgown which only gave
one a view of his toes, his pale shoulders and of course, his face. Yuuri was
unaware of the soft sound that escaped his lips but the nervous flutter of a
million butterflies had filled his stomach again and he could feel his heart
pounding harder and faster within his chest. He had never seen anything so
amazing and yet beautiful in his life. Questions of why a guy like Wolfram
would be in feminine nightwear, of all things, seemed incredibly trivial to the
whirl of conflicting emotions within Yuuri.
He knew what he wanted to do and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
/You promised to apologize to him, didn’t you?!/
Yes, but he’s asleep and I don’t want to wake him up…
/Who says you have to wake him up/ Yuuri had the feeling that the demon
king was smirking at his discomfort. / He won’t even have to know…/
I can’t…I just can’t…!
But his feet were moving all the same and the heat that surged through his body
was enough to melt the hardest of steel. As he stopped at the edge of the bed,
Yuuri knew that he couldn’t back out of this if he tried. He tried to blame it
on the other being within him but knew it was a weak excuse. He was undeniably
curious as well…eager to know how the other boy would taste. Having erotic
dreams was one thing but actually carrying it out was a whole other matter
entirely.
I’ll make it quick. And I swear if he wakes up…
Wolfram turned again as if unconsciously inviting the other boy to take the
plunge. He was now flat on his back, his arms spread out and mouth slightly
ajar. Yuuri was unaware of the dark look that now filled his eyes as he moved
closer. He placed his hands on either side of Wolfram to steady himself,
staring intently at the fair features as if hoping to memorize every line and
curve of that beautiful face.
His gaze fell to the moist parted lips and taking a much-need breath, Yuuri (the
demon king) sealed the distance between them to claim what was rightfully
his.
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