[Fic] [Round 23] End of Engagement, Beginning a New Season, PG

[seamusog]

Author/Artist: seamusog
Characters/Pairings: Conyuu, Yuuram, Shoram
Word Count: 10,808
Rating: PG
Warnings: Language
Theme/Prompt being used: Self-challenge - Character Study and Masquerade
A/N: I have a hard time writing Conrad, I mean a really tough time with him. And I tried really really hard on this fic. But I think I may have failed on the challenge. The focus of the story, which is about Conrad and Yuuri spending a day in Boston, kept shifting to Yuuri until, towards the end, I just let the fic have its own way. I mean there's still a ton of focus on Conrad but I think I may have written a lot of it too subtly to be a character study.
At least, there is still a masquerade.



End of Engagement, Beginning a New Season

Wolfram was less than happy with the room arrangements.

“Wolfram, I would like to stay in a room by myself,” Yuuri said without emotion. For the young king, it was a difficult feat. They have been engaged for so many years now that even though Wolfram's face was only showing annoyance, he knew how much such a simple request hurt the ex-prince.

“You know, Yuuri,” Wolfram replied, his voice suppressing the turbulent emotions in his heart. “I should be the one you come to when you have problems.”

With that, the blond walked past him snatching the card key from Conrad's hand and marching towards the nearest staircase.

He's going to get himself lost, Yuuri thought. Thankfully, Murata had diverted his fiancé to the elevator. His old school friend gave him a smirk and a small wave as Yuuri watched the doors slide close removing the painful sight of Wolfram's angry face.

Yuuri almost breathed a sigh of relief as he massaged the frown off his forehead when his brother's voice barged in on his thoughts.

“I can't say I'm happy with these arrangements either, Yuu-chan,” Shouri complained. “Why do I have to stay with your weird four-eyed friend.”

You're both four-eyes, Yuuri thought uncharitably.

“Well, who do you want to stay with then? Wolfram?” Yuuri shot back. “He's already pissed off having to bunk with his own brother, perhaps we can push him off even further by having you sleep with him instead.”

“Don't use that tone of voice with me, young man. I don't care if you're the king of the demon world,” Shouri scolded. “I think you and I should stay in the same room and use this opportunity to strengthen our brotherly bonds.”

Yuuri wished the ground would open up and swallow his brother. Perhaps, it was a mistake to bring his family with him on this trip. No, it was a mistake to bring Shouri. Not that he could have prevented his brother from coming, he was the Maou of Earth and Yuuri really should be thankful for his brother's help in arranging this trip. But dammit, he wanted to be alone.

Actually, he wanted to be alone with Conrad. The decision he had made was not a light one. Since he had made it, he had been filled with a mass of swirling and contradictory feelings and thoughts. Only Conrad's gentleness could calm him down when he felt like he was about to burst as he did at the moment.

The trip was made for his very own selfishness, he knew that. But being king meant his life was not his own. He felt he was owed at least this one small thing. One small thing that was probably going to cause no small amount of umbrage in Shin Makoku. Facing the ten nobles was going to be worrisome, especially, Waltorana. Gunter would probably weep and moan and make references to his lack of worth and Yuuri would have to spend hours consoling the man. Lady Celi... she might be peeved or she might be happy. Yuuri was never sure with her. As for Gwendal, Yuuri felt obligated to inform Gwendal of his plans and he had been awarded with the most terrifying frown in either two worlds, lesser beings would have peed in their pants. But in the end, Gwendal only said, “Don't involve me in matters of love.” And left it at that.

And Greta... Yuuri did not even want his thoughts to head that way. Wolfram was definitely going to kill him.

If there were such things as perfect days, this was shaping to be quite close. They had gotten rid of Wolfram, courtesy of Miko and Shouma; and Shouri, courtesy of Murata. In fact the only blemishes were during breakfast when Wolfram's eyes shot daggers at Yuuri when he learned they were not spending their last full day on Earth together, and when Shouri challenged Conrad to arm wrestling to determine who gets to spend the day with Yuuri. Fortunately, Wolfram had not yet learned how to say no to Miko and Murata pointed out that Conrad couldn't accomplish things that only the Earth Maou could.

Yuuri felt like a kid in a candy store, especially, since he was wearing a backpack like a schoolchild. It was just him and Conrad in Boston and Conrad promised to call him Yuuri all day.

The first thing they did was catch a cab to the hospital where Yuuri was born.

Traffic was heavy, but Yuuri didn't mind. Conrad was beside him retelling him the story of how he met his mother and how Yuuri got his name.

“It's a good thing my parents are Japanese and that the Japanese have a tendency to pronounce L's as R's or I would have ended up with a girl's name. Being called Shibuya Yuuri Harajuku Fuuri was bad enough. I can't imagine going through life with a name like Julie.”

Conrad chuckled, “I'm sorry Yuuri. I didn't really think when I blurted the suggestion out. I suppose in my head I pictured you as a girl.”

“I didn't disappoint you, did I?” Yuuri's brow wrinkled slightly, “That I was born a boy.”

“Not at all,” Conrad gave him a dazzling smile. “I think you've already learned this, gender does not define us.”

Yuuri felt a warmth spread out from his heart covering his whole being from the top of his head down to his toes. He wished he could bottle this feeling. Then during the dark hours of the night when he felt cold, alone, confused and wrong despite, or especially due to, the presence of Wolfram in his bed, he could open that bottle and feel assured. He pushed the thought of Wolfram away. This was his day, Yuuri's day. Not the spoiled prince's.

There was really no reason to go up to Pediatrics and watch the newborns. But there they were, noses on the glass, looking at the pink and blue bundles.

“Maybe we should legally change your name to Conrad,” Yuuri joked. “Con...ra...r...to. Really too hard to pronounce.”

“Well, if the Maou feels compelled to go through all the paperwork to change the spelling of my name, then I would be honored,” Conrad replied.

Yuuri scrunched his face at the mention of paperwork, “If I'm going to go through all that trouble, I might be tempted to name you something like... um... Mabel or something.”

Conrad laughed. “Then I could be known as Able Mabel the Fabled and Nimble Sentinel of King Sable.”

Yuuri snorted at the ridiculous title. They spent a few minutes quietly snickering.

All of a sudden, Yuuri jumped up and down, yelling, “Hey, Conrad! Look, look!”

Conrad followed Yuuri's gaze.

The baby was like any other blue bundle. Eyes closed in sleep, long black lashes on chubby brown cheeks. Tight brown curls were hidden under the tight cotton cap worn by all newborns. Conrad couldn't see anything special about the baby; the baby was terribly cute, but they practically all were. Gwendal would have been in heaven if he were with them.

Then his brown eyes lowered to the tag on the bassinet.

“Well, it's not an uncommon name, Yuuri,” Conrad said.

“Yes, but isn't this a wonderful coincidence? I'm sure they don't have babies named Conrad everyday. And look, the parents even spelled it right!”

Yuuri grinned mischievously and then started to stroke his chin as if to indicate he was having deep thoughts.

“What are you thinking now?”

“Kids with your name... Have you ever heard of George Foreman?”

“Yuuri, you are not...”

“I want a big family and I'll name the kids Conrad, Conrad II, Conrad-chi...”

“I might have to agree with Wolfram that you have an atrocious naming sense.”

“Conradette, Conraderella...”

The warm, cozy pub where they were eating lunch was a stark contrast to the cold, austere, concrete building they just came out of.

It was lunch time and the restaurant was crowded. City Hall had spewed large numbers of hungry government workers who now vied for seats amongst the businessmen from the surrounding buildings.

Conrad and Yuuri found themselves sitting on tall stools at small round barrel tables wrapped around thick wooden beams that held a sign that said, “D. O'Malleys Coopers & Bottlers Since 1810”. Yuuri dropped his backpack on the floor and looked around wide-eyed at the Celtic adornments in the large room.

“So do you like this place?” Conrad asked.

Yuuri nodded. “It feels cheery and friendly here. Irish pubs are not common in Japan. I wonder how authentic these pubs are... I mean I've never been to Ireland, you know.”

“I don't know how Irish the people here are, but the pub itself is very authentic. It was actually designed and built in Ireland. Then they shipped it in crates across the sea and reassembled it here.”

Conrad paused as he watched his companion soak in all the details: the mural on the wall, the masonry, the wooden and tiled flooring, the comfortable booths tucked away in the corners, the dark browns of the bar with all its busy bottles and taps. When Yuuri's gaze came back to him, he continued.

“They have Celtic bands play here in the evenings.”

“Really? I'd like to see that.”

“Well, we can certainly put it on the schedule for tonight.”

“See if you can also find a way to ditch Murata and Shouri.”

Conrad laughed, “We'll see.”

“Aw, come on. I was able to get rid of Wolfram...”

“Yeah, but your brother is an entirely different...” Conrad paused to find the right word.

“Beast, you mean?”

They both laughed.

Conrad felt at peace. There's a certain elation that fills him when Yuuri was nearby, a completion that he couldn't find in the fierce spirit of his youth, in the strength of his own convictions nor in the substance of his own character. He would gladly serve Yuuri as many lifetimes as possible to be this whole.

Yuuri noticed the serenity that transformed Conrad's face. His name-giver was always smiling. But he learned through the years that Conrad had volumes of smiles each differing in intensity and meaning. This one, he had never seen before. As if Conrad for one moment had let a mask fall off.

It lasted too short in Yuuri's opinion.

“You like this place too, Conrad?”

“Yes, this is one of my favorite places on Earth. Not only because the food here is good, but the idea that someone brought part of their home to this new world. It makes me happy to know that no matter where I go, no matter what happens to me, I could always have part of home here.”

Yuuri stared at the hand that was over Conrad's heart.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said in an almost whisper.

“For what?” Conrad asked bemused.

“For bringing part of my home to Shin Makoku.”

“Oh? You'll have to enlighten me Yuuri. I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

“Stop being coy. You know what I mean.”

Conrad chuckled, “You did a lot of work yourself on that baseball stadium.”

“No. You were the one who came up with the idea. You were the one that got it built. All I did was admire the thing and play in it... You always seem to know what I want and don't hesitate to grant it to me. How do you do that?”

Before Conrad could respond, they were interrupted by a man and his two coworkers.

“Are these seats taken,” the man asked.

“No. Please do join us,” Conrad replied.

The three happily seated themselves. And Yuuri was about to greet them and do his usual 'the world is my playground and everyone is a friend' thing when he recognized the three. They were government workers from City Hall.

Three days before, his family and friends had all gone as a group to go sightseeing in downtown Boston. Unfortunately, Wolfram's Talk-to-me-Listen-to-me-new-and-improved-kun had stopped functioning. He didn't realize it until they were out of the hotel and he found he could only understand Yuuri, Conrad and Murata. He was miffed when everyone outvoted him in going back to the hotel to get one of the spares. The short trip had been going well enough until they got to City Hall. It started with the security gates when Wolfram kept tripping the metal detectors. And it went downhill from there. The small fiasco that Wolfram caused was surely going to be memorable.

Perhaps if Yuuri just smiled and kept quiet... He was sure the imposing government building received its fair number of visitors, and Yuuri was so average-looking that it was easy for him to be overlooked.

“Hey, I know you,” the female in the group exclaimed brightly at Conrad.

Why do the Mazoku have to be so attractive, Yuuri moaned silently.

They had been having such a nice lunch, it would be completely ruined if the conversation went that way. Even when the loud and obnoxious blond was not with him, it seemed Yuuri still couldn't get away.

Please, no one mention Wolfram, he prayed to all deities he could think of.

“So...” the other man said, “where's the loud and obnoxious blond?”

They were sitting on the green lawn of the Boston Common after walking from the Irish pub. Yuuri felt sated and happy and a little sleepy. Perhaps watching little tots wade and play on Frog Pond would give him a bit of energy. With the bright sun warming him and a small cool breeze mussing his hair like delicate fingers, it was a struggle to keep his eyes open. The boisterous noise of activity started fading to the background and Yuuri didn't realize that he had already leaned his head on Conrad's shoulder.

Conrad didn't need to hear the deep, slow breaths to know his king had succumbed to the soporific temptation.

He watched the pond and the people playing without seeing them. In his mind's eye, he saw a similar scene from a quarter century ago. A Japanese woman sat down on a park bench, her baby in a carriage beside her. He shouldn't approach her; he knew he was not allowed. But he could feel the presence that was so much bigger than himself that he couldn't help but give in to his impatience.

She had fallen asleep just as Yuuri had fallen asleep, the combination of the warmth of the sun, the slight breeze and, most likely, exhaustion from stress. For her, it was the stress from caring for a newborn. For Yuuri, it was the stress of a life-changing decision.

When Conrad had looked down at the goofy cheerful face and the gummy grin, something lifted. Until that moment, he didn't know that he was carrying something heavy in his soul. Despite the warnings pressed upon him regarding this mission, he was glad that he allowed temptation to pull him towards the carriage. When the baby offered him the rubber duck, he took it without thinking. He had been enthralled since that day with the promise of Yuuri. And it carried him during difficult moments, especially, all the times Wolfram cruelly ignored him and the time Gwendal blustered with disappointment when Conrad resigned his position in the army.

An accusing glance from a passerby pulled him out of his reverie. Conrad remembered their current position, Yuuri's head on his shoulder communicated a certain amount of intimacy. The stranger had judged them and condemned them from one innocent situation. He was relieved that Yuuri still slept. Despite the years he had spent in Shin Makoku, Yuuri was still a man of his origins. He still struggled with what sometimes slipped in his head as the inherent wrongness of same-sex relationships. He knew Yuuri no longer subscribed to this point of view. But Conrad knew that there were times in the dark hours of the night when childhood fancies that wouldn't survive the rationality of daylight sneaked into the king's heart.

He knew Wolfram hadn't been much help. Where Conrad preferred to address the problem head on, Wolfram preferred to ignore it as if the problem did not exist. To his brother, Yuuri was the king of Shin Makoku not of Earth. What did he care what Earth people did or thought. Only Yuuri's family was important and since they didn't have the same prejudice, there was no problem. Wolfram never did want to admit the connection that Conrad could plainly see. Earth was part of Yuuri as surely as Shin Makoku was.

Yuuri shifted suddenly causing him to fall off Conrad's shoulder and onto the ground. He woke up immediately confused that he wasn't in bed.

“Aaackk!!!” Yuuri cried out. After much flailing, he asked, “Why did you let me sleep?”

“But you looked so cute, I couldn't really wake you up,” Conrad teased.

“Conrad,” Yuuri said in a serious tone as he placed his hand on his companion's shoulder, “no man wants to be called cute.”

Conrad laughed and pointed out, “You call Wolfram cute all the time.”

Years before Yuuri would have blushed and blubbered at that. Now he only said, “Well, he is. Now, if he would be man enough to admit it, we'd all live calmer lives.”

“Besides,” Yuuri added, “we promised not to speak of him today. It's my day. Yuuri's day. Remember. Tomorrow... Tomorrow... I'll think about the brat tomorrow. Today, it's just you and me. No obnoxious, loud, foul-tempered, spoiled brats today... By the way, thank you for taking care of that conversation with the City Hall folks.”

“Anytime. And I apologize for mentioning Wolfram.”

“Ack! Don't even say the name. Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I said. Now let's go find that swan boat,” Yuuri exclaimed energetically as he got up and grabbed his backpack.

They got off the lawn and followed the path to Charles Street, up the hill, to the Soldiers and Sailors Monument. Yuuri walked past the memorial without giving it a second look while Conrad stopped.

“Yuuri,” the soldier called out.

Yuuri turned around. “Yes?”

“I thought you wanted to see this.”

“I did... but later.”

“You know we're leaving tomorrow, you won't get another chance.”

“Then, I'd rather not.”

Conrad looked up and glanced at the dedication catching only the words 'who died for their country' before following Yuuri.

They walked in uncomfortable silence until Yuuri stopped and let out a big sigh.

“Long ago wars are not something that I can influence. I am not upset about that...” Yuuri pouted.

The pout dispelled Conrad's worry. It was probably something silly like an argument with...

“He who shall not be named,” Yuuri finished Conrad's thought without knowing it. “We were looking at a brochure of the monument, and he and I had a stupid argument about the granite figures... You know Peace, History, the Soldier and the Sailor...”

When Conrad gave him a blank smile, he continued, “Well, he started it. He said Peace was me. So then I said that History has to be Gunter, you're the Soldier and....”

“You didn't name him as the Sailor, did you?”

“No, of course not, I said Gwendal would have to be the Sailor.”

“And he got angry?”

“Yes, he said I left him out!”

“Ah! I see.”

“When I pointed out that Murata wasn't included either, he got even more furious. He said Murata wasn't my fiancé. I don't know how that's suppose to make any difference. Geez, I didn't make the damn monument!”

Conrad felt there was something else that Yuuri didn't mention, but he opted not to dig deeper. After all, as Yuuri pointed out, they were not there to spend the day in Boston talking about his brother.

“So did you look up a lot of information about the Boston Common?”

“I stopped after that one brochure. The only other thing I know are the Swan Boats that Mom told me about. She said I always wanted to ride them when I was a baby but I wasn't old enough. I don't know how I was supposed to have babbled that I wanted to ride one. But you know her. She'll make a damn Swan Boat when we get home if I don't go and ride it.”

“Well, then I have a little surprise for you.”

Conrad stepped in front of Yuuri. He bent down to whisper lowly; he no longer had to bend down quite as far as when Yuuri first ascended the throne, but both Yuuri and Wolfram had not yet caught up to him in height.

“I'll race you.”

He took off without waiting for Yuuri to reply. He heard his king yell and complain between heavy breaths that it was unjust that Conrad had an unfair lead and how was he suppose to win a race when he didn't know where he was going. Yuuri kept the running commentary as they broke away from the trees to the open area and suddenly Yuuri was no longer whining. Conrad had not been too far ahead so he wasn't surprised when Yuuri zoomed past him.

Conrad jogged the last few meters towards the baseball diamond where Yuuri was bent over with hands on his knees breathing hard. The king looked up with a big grin on his face. He was finding it hard to breath, not because he was out of shape, but because he was trying to stifle his laughter. He really did feel like a little kid in a candy store.

“Wait here,” Conrad said.

Yuuri stood up and watched his companion walk away. He was puzzled but he was too delighted in finding a baseball diamond in the park.

Unfortunately, there was a game going on so he really couldn't do what he wanted to do, that was to hit a few balls. He watched the game with amusement until Conrad came back.

“What's going on, Conrad?”

Conrad smiled enigmatically and said, “Give me your earpiece.”

Yuuri frowned at the strange request, “Why? I won't be able to understand them if I take it out.”

“Yes, but Anissina's device works too well. Trust me.”

Yuuri took the device out and handed it to Conrad, then he followed him to one of the dugouts. Since he could no longer understand anyone, Yuuri ended up doing a lot of smiling and nodding and bowing, exactly like the Japanese tourist he was. Anissina's translation earpiece had worked so well that they copied even the Boston accent. For the first time, Yuuri felt like a stranger in the land of his birth.

His discomfort continued until he remembered that this was Conrad, not Murata and, definitely, not Yozak. Conrad wouldn't pull any stupid prank on him. Or would he?

“Hand me your pack,” Conrad pointed to the backpack.

“Why?” Yuuri asked suspiciously.

“Don't you trust me with your backpack,” Conrad said. “I swear I'll protect the contents with my very life.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and handed over the bag. He remained confused as he was shoved here and there, handed a couple of things and patted in the back familiarly by the coach and players. Next thing he knew, he found himself standing over home plate, bat in hand and the biggest smile on his face.

Sporting a playful smirk, Yuuri pointed the bat towards the Green Monster, the notorious big green wall on left field of Fenway Park.

“It's good to have a goal,” Conrad commented.

“At least I didn't point there,” Yuuri replied pointing towards the upper portions of the bleachers by right field where he knew one lone red seat sat in a sea of blue, site of the longest measurable home run at the stadium.

“You're the Maou, surely, you have enough power to get it over there,” Conrad smiled teasingly.

“I may be Shibuya Yuuri Harajuku Fuuri, demon king of Shin Makoku, but I am no Ted Williams.”

“Babe Ruth, then?”

Yuuri only grinned. Conrad mirrored it, recalling an Earth quote, We are such stuff as dreams are made on.

“Okay, Babe,” Conrad teased, “get ready for this.”

Conrad pitched a changeup; Yuuri got a piece of the ball but predictably it was not a home run. The ball popped up in the air and fell towards third base where Conrad managed to catch it after jumping the last few feet. He fell hard on his side but the ball managed to stay in the glove.

Yuuri ran towards him with a look of worry on his face.

“You could have just let it go, you know,” Yuuri complained when he got to Conrad who was laughing his head off.

“Sorry, Yuuri, the ball was calling my name. You know how hard it is to resist the temptation of catching a fly.”

Yuuri was helping Conrad brush the red dirt off his slacks and shirt when they were interrupted by an excited red-haired Mazoku.

“Mr. Shibuya! Mr. Shibuya!” the man shouted as he ran towards them. “They arrived! We just got them.”

The man stopped in front of them and opened the bag he was carrying.

Conrad didn't need to see the goofy smile plastered on Yuuri's face to know how excited the king was. “You want to try them on, don't you?” he asked.

Yuuri nodded enthusiastically, holding his hand over the contents of the bag but doing nothing more.

They followed the red-headed man to the locker rooms where Yuuri reverently put on the Boston Red Sox jersey. The goofy grin never left his face since the man brought him the two uniforms. He stared at himself in the mirror and tried to look at the big #18 on his back.

“So you're a Daisuke Matsuzaka fan,” the man queried.

“Yes, he is,” Conrad answered for the still speechless king, “a big one at that.”

The man left shortly after, shaking their hands as he left and saying he would see them the next day.

“I almost don't want to take it off,” Yuuri said as he shadow-batted a few balls.

“Well, I suppose you can keep it on. But I don't think you'd want to get it dirty.”

“No, you're right.”

Conrad picked up the other jersey and asked in a mocking serious tone, “Tell me honestly, Yuuri, you're not... you're not becoming a traitor are you?”

“Quit being silly, Conrad. The only blue I root for are the Seibu Lions.”

“Are you going to try this on then?” Conrad asked holding the white and blue uniform out.

“No, they're the same size. It should fit.”

“What? You don't want your body tainted with a Dodger's uniform.”

“Conrad, you have been hanging around Yozak too much. Please tell me you do understand the significance of #42 Dodgers.”

“No true baseball fan can call himself a fan if he didn't know. But why did you chose it?”

Conrad watched Yuuri put his hand behind his neck in that sheepish way that Yuuri did. Some things never changed, even after ten years. Though he understood exactly the significance of the uniform for Yuuri, he wanted to hear it coming out of Yuuri's mouth.

“... well... um... You've got to admit, he was an admirable person.”

“No one would disagree with that. After all, his is the only number retired across the Major League.”

“You know,” Yuuri said seriously, “he was only a baseball player... yet... he played such a pivotal role in this country's, no the world's, attitude towards race. If he, as a baseball player, could do such a thing, then I as a king should do better.”

“And you have Yuuri. You have brought peace between humans and Mazoku.”

“Peace is only the first step... Hell, after ten years, I am only now facing my own deep-seated prejudice. Hatred and fear don't go away as easily as I thought or as easily as they should.” Looking at his teenage face in the mirror, Yuuri added, “I'm still such a child.”

Conrad disagreed but he didn't say it. He looked at Yuuri's broadening chest as the king changed back to his casual clothes. No, Yuuri was no longer a child. He still had a few years of growing left, but Yuuri had, definitely, become a man.

He was jerked out of his reverie by Yuuri's next words.

“It's not who I am. And I doubt I'll ever become anything like him. Robinson's a legend. I'm only me... But it's something I want to chase after for the rest of my life... I feel that if I ever catch up, I wouldn't know what to do with myself... but I don't have to worry, that sort of goal is large. Very large. And I'll always run after it.”

“You are too modest.”

“Well then, how about this... what did Murata say? 42 - it's the ultimate answer to life, the universe and everything. It's from a book I never read. I think they even made a movie.”

“Forty-two is the meaning of life?”

Yuuri took the jersey from him and stared at the number, “It's my meaning, I suppose.”

Conrad felt he lost something in those words. He wasn't sure what. Yuuri had grown up before his eyes. But Yuuri had always been Yuuri. He didn't change. Perhaps that feeling meant nothing. Just as the silly number forty-two had no meaning other than itself.

“You look at me so seriously. It makes me nervous.”

“Sorry, Yuuri, I didn't mean to.”

“Don't apologize for looking at me. You still treat me like...” Yuuri sighed. “Look, just for today, let's forget I'm king. You've been calling me Yuuri all day so it shouldn't be too difficult to just think of me as an average boy...” Yuuri paused and a troubled look crossed his face. “Conrad...”

“Yes?”

“I'm not... I'm not wrong... am I?”

“You should know the answer to that by now.”

“I should. I've been in love for so long....”

No further words were spoken. No words were needed. Understanding passed silently between them.

“I can't say I approve of this subterfuge,” Shouma said to his son.

“I know Dad. You've always taught me honesty and straightforwardness. But, please, just one more night,” Yuuri pleaded. “I'll let Wolfram know first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Well, you should know him best,” Shouma relented. “You've grown up Yuuri. Though it was only a few months ago that you graduated from High School.... Son, I am proud of you. You've raised a wonderful daughter and I am not going to judge you on how you handle your affairs.”

Yuuri smiled.

“Besides,” Shouma added, “your mother already approved of this.”

Yuuri's smile grew even wider. Yes, his mother approved but only after much begging and pleading and a million promises that Yuuri knew he would regret later.

When he saw them come out of the lobby, Yuuri waved to them from the parking lot. His mother winked at him surreptitiously while Wolfram avoided his gaze.

Yuuri hated for anyone to be angry with him. This applied, especially, to Wolfram. It was probably why their engagement survived so long. That and Wolfram's iron will. Really, it shouldn't be too bad for Wolfram to be denied one thing he wanted.

“Wolf,” Yuuri said tentatively.

Wolfram shot him an icy look. And Yuuri almost broke down, almost going down on his knees and asking the ex-prince to forgive him. But he felt Conrad's hand on his shoulder and he stood a little straighter and a little more determined.

In the end, Yuuri could only say “Um... nevermind.”

Getting rid of Wolfram really should have been the worst task for the evening. Unfortunately, the gods who smiled so sweetly during the day had turned sour at night. As perfect as the day was, the night was proving to be the opposite.

It really was Murata's and Shouri's fault.

And his mother's.

Well, if Yuuri was to be honest, then his mother's doing was his fault. He was never really cognizant of how badly, terribly, obsessively, she wanted to see Wolfram in a wedding dress. Well, it wasn't going to happen. And so it was with deep regret for the promises he gave her that Yuuri put on the dress that Shouri handed him.

“Why exactly are we dressed like this?” he moaned again as they walked to their destination. The night was cool enough that they didn't feel hot under all the layers of clothes they wore.

“Yuu-chan, how many times do I have to explain to you. It's a masquerade, you go in costumes and masks. That's what people do in masquerades.” Shouri said as if he was talking to a six year old.

“Why exactly are we going to a masquerade?” Yuuri whined.

“Because we were invited,” Shouri said with some finality.

“We didn't have to go, you know,” Yuuri countered.

“Yes, we do. It would have been rude not to,” Shouri replied, his patience almost at the breaking point.

“Wolfram didn't have to.”

“You're the one who didn't want Wolfram to come.”

“I don't want to hear about Wolfram! Why am I in a dress!”

“Aw, come on Shibuya, I'm wearing a dress too,” Murata smiled as he twirled making the skirt of his dress billow rather prettily.

“Mom said you had to wear that dress,” Shouri explained, “she said it was payment. You'll have to go ask her. Though I would think you know what it's for.”

After a brief silence, Yuuri moaned to Conrad, “I wouldn't even be in a dress if Shouri didn't have the bright idea to go to a stupid masquerade.”

“That's onii-chan!”

“Shouri!”

“Onii-chan!”

“Shouri!” Yuuri dragged the first syllable out for as long as he could.

“Yuu-chan, you don't seem to recognize all the trouble I went through so you can have this one wish of yours. If the people that made it possible for you to make use of Fenway Park want to see you in a masquerade then you are going to a masquerade.”

For once, Yuuri was suitably chastened.

“Well, if it makes any difference,” Conrad said, “you do look beautiful in the dress, Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked at Conrad with big watery eyes. Why can't he look at me like that, Shouri thought, always, it's Conrad!

There was a bright flash and Yuuri blinked his eyes. “What was that?” he asked in a suspicious tone.

“Smile, Shibuya!” Murata said mischievously.

“Eh?!! What are you doing?” Yuuri said as he tried to grab the camera from his friend's hand.

“Mama-san said to take as many pictures as possible. The memory chip is 4 gigs so we should be able to take hundreds of pictures.”

Yuuri abruptly sat on his haunches and covered his face with his hands.

“Yuu-chan, you're getting your dress dirty.”

“Argh! I don't care.”

Conrad went down on one knee in front of Yuuri and held his hand out.

Yuuri looked up at Conrad. “I know I'm being childish. It's just... this is supposed to be my night. Not Shibuya Miko's night. Not Shibuya Shouri's night.”

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. When did you become so selfish?” Shouri reprimanded, “did you even spare one thought for Wolfram?”

“When did you start caring so much about Wolfram?” Yuuri replied sourly.

Shouri looked heaven-ward and took a deep breath, “What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I care about Wolfram.”

“Well, if you care so much about Wolfram why don't you just...”

“...marry him? Yes, I think I will. I'll put him in a nice white wedding dress and make Mom happy. We'll have a big fat wedding cake and I won't allow you to dance with him. And then we'll have lots of children and named them all Yuu-chan!” Shouri was almost screaming. His face was red, several veins showing clearly on his forehead and he was breathing hard as if he just ran a marathon.

Perhaps, Yuuri thought, it would be wise to shut up now.

Flash!

Yuuri and Conrad groaned and Murata exclaimed, “That was a nice one!”

Hours later, after extricating Murata's neck off of Shouri's deathgrip, after Yuuri finished wondering why Shouri was being uncharacteristically violent and if it had anything to do with the stress of being Maou, after the random discussion about why he and Murata needed fake ID's and why Miko also happened to have one, after several dances with strangers in strange costumes and even stranger masks, after a hundred and some camera flashes, and after several drinks, Yuuri found himself enjoying the masquerade.

“Well, Yuuri, having fun?” Conrad asked his companion as they stood by one of the buffet tables.

“You were right, Conrad, as always. The dress does not define the man,” Yuuri let out a little snicker, “did you learn that from Yozak?”

“Nope. I taught him that,” Conrad replied smiling at Yuuri's reaction.

“That was a pretty girl you were dancing with,” Yuuri mused.

“Yuuri...”

“Yes?”

“That was a man.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said abashed.

“That was a pretty girl you were dancing with,” Conrad commented.

Yuuri blushed his eyes darting elsewhere. “Um... yeah...”

“So... why did she slap you?” Conrad asked.

“Oh god!” Yuuri groaned, “you saw that!”

“I think everyone heard it.”

Yuuri groaned again. “I thought she was a man... and I kind of asked him... her... wasn't it funny for two men to be dancing.”

Conrad only chuckled in reply.

“And when she said she was a girl... I kind of blurted out... I said... I said, 'Oh, but you're so flat-chested.' That's when she slapped me.”

Conrad was now practically doubled over in laughter.

“Stop it! How was I supposed to know. She's got the same outfit as you and Shouri. She looked like a prince...”

“Yuuri...” Conrad gasped in between chuckles, “you do know this is a masquerade, right?”

“I expect teasing from Murata and Shouri, not from you.”

Conrad removed his mask so he could wipe the tears from his eyes. Once he stopped laughing, he bowed gracefully to Yuuri and said, “Can I have this dance, princess?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Yuuri replied but took the offered hand anyway. “Well, then, I'll apologize now if I accidentally step on your toes.”

“Not to worry, I'm wearing steel-toed boots.”

As far as Yuuri knew, Gunter was the most graceful dancer in Shin Makoku. The fluid motions of the silver-haired Mazoku pleased all aesthetic senses. Wolfram danced as if he performed for an audience, very technically correct, but somehow lacked a sense of joy and freedom. He once watched the two dance together at one of the balls and it had left the spectators breathless with the beauty of the waltz. Conrad danced like he was enjoying himself. He was graceful enough and knew the moves well enough, but he danced as if he could care less if his movement looked disjointed and foolish, as if he could care less whether it pleased whoever was watching. Art and propriety did not concern him, only the merriment mattered. Conrad danced the way he told jokes. Yuuri liked dancing with his name-giver because he himself was a terrible dancer. He didn't have to worry about the proper steps or how he looked when he danced with Conrad.

It was, of course, a pleasure he rarely got to indulge in due to the jealousy of his rather insecure fiancé. He hoped that after tomorrow, he would be able to dance with Conrad more often.

Since Yuuri was wearing the dress there was no question on who was going to lead.

“Yuuri,” Conrad said softly as they slowly waltzed from one corner of the dance floor to the other.

“Yes?” replied Yuuri breathlessly.

“You can stop counting now.”

“Oh...”

Conrad gave his partner an amused smile. Now that Yuuri had stopped the ceaseless 1-2-3-1-2-3, he decided to be a bit more daring. He grabbed Yuuri a little tighter and swept him across the floor making Yuuri's eye bulge out and his skirts billow. Yuuri forgot to think about dance steps and just followed Conrad's movements by instinct.

Yuuri couldn't believe how much happiness could be derived just from moving your body. He forgot his worries, he forgot his responsibilities, he forgot he was a man dancing with another man. There was only the dance and the music and the smile on his partner's lips.

This one time, Conrad's smile was reflected not only on his eyes but in his heart. Though the feathered and sequined mask remained on the upper portion of his face, the other mask, the one he wore everyday, fell off. It was rare to see Yuuri's happiness without sharing it with the rest of the world. This one time, he could be selfish. For this one moment, he could think that the world only consisted of him and Yuuri. He could bask in Yuuri's glory and the rest of the world could go to hell in a hand basket. For this one moment...

They stood in front of the hotel laughing and joking. Once in a while a flash would go off and more laughing would ensue.

Yuuri was barefoot. He had chucked the painful shoes midway through the masquerade. It was just as well since he stepped on so many feet that the loss of his shoes was really a blessing to all his partners.

“This night was not how I pictured it would be,” Yuuri said, “but I think it turned out better.”

Shouri gave him a smug smile. “You should listen to your older brother more often, Yuu-chan.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you, onii-chan,” Yuuri said emphasizing the last word.

The look on Shouri's face was like the cherry on this sundae of an evening.

“Wait, the evening can't end without a kiss,” Murata interrupted.

“Eh?! What?” Yuuri cried.

“You danced with a bunch of girls and all you got was a slap,” Murata said. “Tell you what, I'll kiss you.”

“What?!!” Shouri and Yuuri exclaimed.

Murata puckered his lips making smooching noises and advancing on Yuuri as he said, “Come on, Shibuya, give it over.”

Shouri held Murata back and yelled, “Hey, if Yuu-chan is kissing anyone, it should be me. His beloved older brother!”

“WHAT!!! Shouri, that's sick! Have you gone insane!”

“Look, Shibuya, just a quick peck and it'll be all over.”

“Friend of my brother, you will not sully the lips of my precious Yuu-chan...”

Yuuri took a look at Conrad hoping for some assistance. It was hopeless as Conrad just stood there guffawing.

Yuuri didn't know what came over him, whether it was the silly argument between the two, whether it was the dancing and the laughing, whether it was the few drinks he consumed, whether he was really afraid of kissing his own brother, whether he wanted to stop Conrad from laughing. Perhaps, because he was now more honest with himself and could admit that yes, when he first met Conrad, there had been a little bit of a crush. Perhaps it was that but he really didn't know why he dared.

He grabbed Conrad by the shoulder and plastered his lips on the lips of his loyal bodyguard.

They were firm and crooked from smiling. They were very different from the only other lips he kissed (not counting his family). They were like hot chocolate: warm and comforting. They were...

Flash!

Wolfram was going to kill him.

Even on Earth, Conrad's habits did not cease.

He accompanied Yuuri to his room. He went in first. He checked to make sure everything was safe and no dangers were lurking in the dark corners under the bed and behind the armoire and in the closet or in the bathroom.

He stood by as Yuuri finished his ablutions. He handed Yuuri his pajamas. He made sure the king was comfortable and didn't need anything else.

“I'm not sleepy yet Conrad, is it okay if you stay a while?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“You promised not to call me that today.”

“But it's already tomorrow,” Conrad replied pointing at the clock.

“Look, in a few hours, even Wolfram won't be able to say that you don't have a right to call me Yuuri, so let's start now, okay?”

“As you wish... Yuuri.”

They opened the curtains covering the large windows and pulled two chairs facing the lights of the city. They sat talking about baseball and Yuuri's childhood and Conrad's first trip to Earth and many other trivial matters until the first rays of the sun shot dull gray in the black night.

Silence crept into the room until it was broken by a single sniffle.

“Yuuri...”

“I promised him. Remember. That one time we almost got married?” Yuuri said brokenly, “He understood. He... that was so long ago. We were just children... sometimes, I feel, we still are. But we're not. I said we would always remain the same whether we marry or not... but we can't... we're not kids anymore... Greta's all grown up and ruling her own kingdom...”

Conrad got up and knelt in front of Yuuri.

“We can't stay the same... I want to... but you know that's impossible... I don't know why I'm crying...”

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Conrad's neck and kept on sobbing.

“I'm being stupid, aren't I?”

“No.”

“Yes, I am... I don't know why... but I just feel... I just feel I'm losing something...”

Conrad understood because Conrad knew how to look back. For Conrad, the past was always with him. His brother was different, Wolfram always looked forward.

“Wolfram won't understand,” Yuuri continued, “he... oh gods! I feel like I'm losing part of myself... it's like... it's like I'm losing a dream I don't want... how can anyone cry for the loss of a future they don't want... yet, here I am...”

Conrad held the king and let him wet his shoulders with his confused tears until all was silent. Yuuri had fallen asleep.

He carried the king to the nearest bed and tucked him in. He brushed the stray hairs from Yuuri's face and stared in silent awe at its beauty. Perhaps, it wasn't wise to fall a little bit in love with the king. But as Yuuri had said, there were feelings and there were no reasons for them. One just felt them.

He was about to leave when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Please, stay with me tonight. I don't want to be alone.”

He looked at Yuuri whose eyes never opened.

“As you wish,” he whispered.

Conrad woke with the sound of the door banging open. It would have to be Wolfram that had the other key to Yuuri's room.

Wolfram looked at Conrad with no surprise. “I figured this is where you were.”

“Wolfram, do you have to be so noisy in the morning?” Conrad asked.

“What are you doing in that clown suit?”

Conrad looked down at himself, he was still wearing the outfit from the previous evening. He had only taken his boots off and fell on the other bed without bothering to undress. All his clothes were in the other room and he had not wanted to wake his brother.

“Costume ball,” he replied.

Wolfram walked to the other bed and sat beside the sleeping form of his fiancé.

“Hey, Yuuri wake up,” he said as he shook the king.

“Wolfram, perhaps, you should let him sleep a little longer. We were up quite late.”

“No,” Wolfram replied, “I want to go home. Now. Yuuri's been acting funny this whole trip and he won't tell me why. I want this trip to end as soon as possible... Yuuri, wake up.”

“Wolf,” Yuuri grumbled sleepily, “just a few more minutes.”

“No, wake up now, wimp!”

“What time is it anyway?”

“It's already eight. I would have woken you up at six.”

Yuuri scowled.

“See, aren't I a wonderful fiancé that I gave you an extra two hours?”

“No, you are not a wonderful fiancé,” Yuuri replied sourly.

“Look, Yuuri,” Wolfram whispered in a threatening tone, “I have been very patient with you this whole trip. If you don't get up right now and take me home, you will regret it.”

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri cried fully awake now, “I'm awake, I'm awake.”

Yuuri stretched and yawned and then he noticed the two baseball uniforms on the table.

“Wolfram,” he said quietly.

“What is it wimp?”

“We need to have a serious talk.”

Conrad got up and put his boots on. “I'll leave you two alone then,” he said.

“No,” Yuuri replied. “You stay here. We'll go to Wolfram's room.”

Conrad watched them as Yuuri steered his brother out. He heard the other door close then all was quiet.

He finished putting his boots on. Then he stood up and went to the window. The sun was shining bright and the blue of the sky reminded him of blue hair and blue eyes.

Perhaps it had been a sin to fall a little bit in love with an engaged woman. And just as sinful to fall a little bit in love with an engaged man. But Julia and Yuuri had that effect on everyone. Perhaps it was the purity of their soul, the brilliance of which attracted other souls. And perhaps, it was alright to be a little bit in love with the king because the king returned that love, deeply and equally to everyone. But unlike everyone else who was content to receive Yuuri's love, Conrad's devotion demanded more. He did not desire to serve the king, he needed to. His soul could not find peace away from Yuuri.

Yet, just as Julia found one person to love more than others, so had Yuuri found the one person that has become more important than anyone else.

Conrad looked at the sky as if trying to find an answer to a question he didn't have. Yuuri's happiness was his but he had that feeling again, that slight feeling of loss.

There was a knock at the door and Conrad reluctantly tore his gaze away from the blue skies. He opened the door to a smiling Great Sage.

“Good morning, Lord Weller. A bit early to be having deep thoughts, isn't it,” Murata said as he swept into the room and proceeded to the bathroom.

“Good morning, Your Eminence,” Conrad replied, “are you looking for His Majesty?”

“Oh no, I'm looking for this,” Murata said holding a glass up.

“You needed a glass?” Conrad asked.

“Don't be silly, I need this room.”

Conrad watched Murata walk up to the side of one of the beds and hold the glass to the wall and his ear to the glass.

“Your Eminence,” Conrad protested, “is that wise?”

“Lord Weller, let me give you a little bit of advice. If you ever get to remember 4000 years of living, cherish all the fun stuff. And let me tell you, there is nothing more fun than His Majesty, Shibuya Yuuri Harajuku Fuuri.”

Conrad was about to let the door close when it opened to let another person in.

“What are you doing here, friend of my brother?” Shouri vociferated as he walked in, “That's a bit childish isn't it?”

“Yes, Your Eminence, Lord Shouri is right, perhaps we should just wait for them to come out.”

Conrad watched the newcomer go to the other side of the bed and pull a stethoscope out.

“No, I meant using a glass is childish. One must have proper equipment for these things.”

Yuuri stood in the shower wishing the hot water could wash away all the pain caused by the talk with Wolfram. All in all, it didn't go as well as he wanted to. But it did not go as terribly as he feared. After all, he was still alive. And that's a good thing.

After Wolfram digested what Yuuri had to stay, he sat in shock without saying anything. Perhaps, Yuuri should have left after that, but instead he explained and explained and talked and blubbered. Wolfram's shock was soon replaced with fury. And if Yuuri didn't think Wolfram had grown more powerful over the years, he knew now. The ex-prince had been able to summon his Maryoku and proceeded to try and burn anything he could get his hands on. They had been lucky that Yuuri had over the years learned to put out most of Wolfram's fires. However, Shouri would still end up having to pay for some damages incurred by the violent blond.

Yuuri sighed. He turned off the shower and dried off. After putting on a bathrobe, he walked out to the room where Conrad was still sitting in his costume.

“Hey Conrad, why don't you go ahead and take a shower. I'll see if I can get back in your room and get your clothes. And if Wolfram won't let me in, I'll borrow some of Shouri's.”

Before Conrad could reply, there was a knock at the door. Conrad answered it and for the second time that morning Murata rushed in. He took one of the chairs, placed it in the middle of the room facing the door and sat down.

“I wouldn't stand by the door if I were you,” he told Conrad.

Yuuri looked at him strangely and asked, “What's going on?”

“Leave the door ajar though,” Murata instructed.

Conrad shrugged imperceptively, took the other chair and placed it beside Murata's.

“Murata, what did you do?” Yuuri asked, fear rising in his voice.

“What did you think I did? I was cleaning up after the mess you made.”

“Somehow, I doubt that's what you were doing.”

“It was. Honest. Now if something just happen to spill while I was consoling your belo--”

“You did not. You did, did you? Please tell me you didn't,” Yuuri whined in rapid-fire pace.

He didn't need to wait for Murata's answer as the door slammed opened.

“Murata, what did you do...” Yuuri whispered.

Wolfram was standing in all his awesome ferocity at the open door dragging Shouri by the collar.

“YUURI! YOU CHEATING WIMP! How could you?!! And with MY BROTHER?!!”

“Wolf... calm down... Wolfram... I order you...”

“Watch this Yuuri and burn it into that damn little head of yours,” Wolfram shouted as he slammed Shouri onto the door and proceeded to kiss him hard on the lips.

Flash!

Yuuri didn't think the situation could get any worse until he saw his mother and father by the doorway.

“Wol-chan, Shou-chan!!!” Miko gasped in surprise. “What's going on here?!”

Wolfram ended the rough kiss and faced Yuuri's mother.

“Mother, Father, I don't know what Yuuri has told you,” Wolfram said barely suppressing his anger, “I am sorry. But we are not getting married.”

As quickly as he stormed in, Wolfram was gone.

“YUU-CHAAAAN!!!” Miko yelled angrily as she advanced on Yuuri.

Sorting through the chaos after Wolfram's display without getting kicked out of the hotel was a miracle.

Calming an angry Wolfram without the use of an army was an even bigger miracle.

It was unanimously decided that Conrad and Yuuri would need to ride separately from the fuming blond so they had let the others leave in the limo while they took a taxi.

Conrad looked at his companion and smiled. Yuuri was the picture of a young baseball player going to his first game, complete from the blue cap to the red socks down to the cleats. He had opted to get the red jersey which looked good on him. He fidgeted with his baseball cap, taking it off and putting it on, again and again.

“Nervous?” Conrad asked.

“No... yes...” was the tentative reply.

“This is what you want.” It wasn't a statement. It was a question.

“Gods! I've never wanted anything so badly in my entire life.”

“Not even as much as becoming a professional baseball player?”

“Well, there is that,” Yuuri laughed.

“I'm glad I finally got a smile out.”

“Thanks Conrad. I don't know what I would do without...” Yuuri stopped mid-sentence and gasped, “Oh no! We have to go back to the hotel.”

“Why?” Conrad asked concerned.

“I forgot the...”

“You mean this,” Conrad held out a manila envelope.

Yuuri let out a sigh of relief. “Like I said, I don't know what I would do without you.”

The taxi stopped and they realized they had already arrived at Fenway Park. Conrad paid the driver and they got out. They spied the black limousine but it looked like the passengers had already disembarked and were probably in the stadium. Which was just as well since Yuuri didn't think he could face Wolfram yet.

They proceeded to the entrance but then stopped. Yuuri turned around and went the other way. Then he turned around and walked back to the entrance. And stopped. He fidgeted with his cap again. Then he paced back and forth in front of Conrad.

He stopped. And squatted putting his head between his knees and proceeded to smack his head with his cap while he hyperventilated.

Conrad heaved a big sigh and knelt in front of his king as he did the previous night.

“Yuuri... it's not shameful to wish for something that is close to your heart.”

“I'm being selfish,” Yuuri groaned to the ground.

“Even my brother would admit that you are the least selfish person in the world. You have given the engagement your all. Even he will admit that. And despite all his faults, Wolfram is loyal, he will not deny you this.”

Yuuri looked up and stared into his eyes, and Conrad saw fear and confusion in the king's dark eyes resolve into hard determination. Yuuri took Conrad's offered hand and stood up. Then he embraced the taller man and said honestly, “I am happy. I really am. For this decision. Thank you for being my pillar. I really don't know how I could have survived through this without you.”

They were met by the red-headed man once they were inside. He shook their hands enthusiastically. They chatted as they headed straight through the stands to the field. He told a few baseball jokes which they heartily laughed at and Conrad told his own jokes which they heartily groaned at.

Once they got to the field they met another man. The red-headed man introduced him as Mr. Collins and they shook hands with him. Conrad handed him the manila envelope which Mr. Collins opened and briefly looked at the contents.

They followed him to home plate where Yuuri's family, Murata and Wolfram were standing. Yuuri chanced to glance at the upper stands where six numbers were prominently displayed, all red except for one in blue - 42. He glanced at Conrad who looked back at him and they both smiled. Yes, this was what he wanted.

They arranged themselves as instructed by Mr. Collins and Yuuri tried his best to avoid Wolfram's baleful looks. Unfortunately, he had happened to glance the wrong way at one point and he quickly looked away again. He was not going to let Wolfram's fury stop this. Instead he looked at his mother who was squealing with happiness, his father who looked proudly at him, his brother who for once was not scolding him, and Murata whose face was hidden by the constantly flashing camera. He held his partner's trembling hands (perhaps it was his own hands that were trembling) and looked at Conrad's serene face. The brown eyes held unconditional love. Conrad was his safety net. He knew that as long as Conrad was happy with his decisions, then they weren't that bad. He squeezed the soft calloused hands again and listened to the officiant. He wanted to remember each and every single word that the Justice of the Peace uttered.

To him, it was a blessing of some sort. To be wedded by the laws of Earth and in the land of his birth. The world that did not sanctify the kind of marriage he would have. In this world, there were a few places that did. And he was proud to have been born in this place that upheld the philosophy that he held dearly; neither race nor gender nor looks nor wealth define us, only our actions do. It was not just a marriage between him and the man he loved but a marriage of sorts between his past and his future, between the two worlds he belonged to.

The ceremony was short, there were no long vows, there was no need. All those have already been uttered multiple times through the years not only with their voices but with their eyes and with every touch. Every time they saved each other through all the perils they've faced. There was no need for sappy, long winded speeches. No words could have made their bond any stronger.

“I now pronounce you spouses for life, you may now kiss each other.”

He found himself staring at their interlaced hands and suddenly felt embarrassed. He didn't look up as he stepped forward. Their noses bumped before they found each other's lips. Yuuri smiled on the soft full lips. They broke away almost immediately and Yuuri put his hand behind his neck and stared sheepishly at his family.

Then he turned to Mr. Collins and asked, “I guess that's it? Don't we have to sign any papers or anything?”

“You already signed those when you got your marriage license at City Hall,” the officiant replied showing the marriage license.

“Oh! That's right,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri...”

Yuuri turned and was blasted by the full rage of brilliant green eyes and, suddenly, a scene popped in his head of him, Conrad and Murata staring down at a table, empty but for one of Anissina's Talk-to-me-Listen-to-me-new-and-improved-kun. Realization had dawned on the blond and he was not amused.

“You. Tampered. With. My. Earpiece.” Wolfram stated ominously.

“Now, now, Wolf,” Yuuri replied nervously, “calm down. I can explain.”

Yuuri's eyes sought out Conrad's and pleaded, Please save me.

Conrad's eyes replied, I love you, Yuuri, and I will serve you faithfully for as long as I shall live. But you're on your own on this one.

Yuuri swore and took off running.

“Come back here, you wimp!”

The wedding attendants watched as #42 Dodgers chase after #18 Red Sox all throughout Fenway Park.

Yuuri was certainly faster than Wolfram when it came to foot races, however, he didn't think he could spend the rest of his life running away from him. So with supreme effort he stopped, turned around and braced himself to welcome the oncoming blond fury.

The confused Wolfram couldn't stop himself when Yuuri halted and ended up barreling into Yuuri's open arms sending them both down onto the grass rolling several times.

Wolfram kept a flurry of invectives and tried to squirm out of Yuuri's tight grip. Yuuri wore a dopey grin. His arms were full of an obnoxious, loud, foul-tempered, spoiled brat and everything was right in the world.

“They're certainly the most energetic couple I've married,” Mr. Collins commented. “I was apprehensive since they're so young, but I have a strange feeling that their marriage will outlast all the other ones I've done.”

Conrad didn't feel the need to tell the man that, yes, his brother and his godson had gone through a lot together, that they have been engaged over ten years and that they had even raised a strong woman who now ruled her own country. No, he would probably get a funny look if he said that about the couple who did not look as if they were out of their teens. He only nodded in agreement; yes, their marriage will most certainly last hundreds of years.

They watched as Wolfram finally got out of Yuuri's embrace and they were treated to a sight of the ex-prince, now Prince Consort, dragging the demon king by the ear and yelling, “You are going to take me home and give me a proper wedding, wimp!”

A/N: Okay, you can poke me now. *sigh* Yuuri just takes over, I can't help myself. I'm sorry. I failed this challenge.