[Fic] Shadows and Sheets, chapter 5
Previous Installments:
Prologue and Chapter One
Yuuri on Wolfram (flashback)
Chapter Two
Yuuri on Conrad(flashback)
Chapter 3
Yuuri and Murata on Conseqeunces(flashback)
Yuuri on Conrad and Wolfram(flashack)
Chapter Four, Part A
The Death of Young Yuuri (flashback)
Chapter Four, Part B
Current Installment:
Shadows and Sheets
Chapter Five
By Crystaltear
Pairing: ConYuu, some WolfYuu
Rating: R
Warnings: angst
Notes: I rewrote the second half of this chapter so many times it isn’t even funny. Probably way too much lamenting on Yuuri’s part in this chapter, but it needs to be done and over with.
This story looks as though it will conclude in the next chapter (and if not that one then the following) and an epilogue will follow. I also plan on doing a one-shot side story and I’m debating at this point whether or not to do a side story with Wolfram set after this chapter…we’ll see. If you have an opinion on the matter, please let me know!
-------
Even if your hands are shaking,
And your faith is broken.
Even as the eyes are closing,
Do it with a heart wide open.
Say what you need to say.
-“Say” John Mayer
--------------
Yuuri bites back a yawn as he glances at another document that goes into great detail on the new agreement between Dai Shimaron and Shin Makoku. This particular paper is going over the new coordinates of the borders and Yuuri allows himself the pleasure of rolling his eyes at such an absurdity. The new line is in the middle of the ocean--anchor a buoy or something to the spot. He doesn’t understand why whole maps must be rewritten because he gave Dai Shimaron some extra fish.
A voice very much like Gwendal’s assaults his thoughts, grumbling about how there wouldn’t be so much paperwork if he wasn’t such an idiot. Maybe he is even channeling Gwendal’s inner voice at this late hour--Annisina was getting clever with her inventions. The tone certainly matched the glare Gwendal had given him when the senior advisor learned that his Maou had given some territory in exchange for a renewal of the peace agreement.
Despite any sort of disagreement his advisors may harbor, Yuuri feels he has made the correct decision: The loss is a small one in comparison to keeping the peace for as long as possible. He can endure being mocked by the leaders of other countries if it means he can avoid a war. Not to mention he feels his veiled threat to the king that he will personally remove obstacles on the road to peace in the future will hopefully deter problems for a long while. So long as Shin Makoku flourished with trade and goods, he is sure he can keep many out of harm’s way. Perhaps it was not a smart move in long-term diplomacy, but hopefully by the time it matters a smarter person than he would be in charge.
He signs the coordinate agreement and allows the yawn to escape this time. Yes, a smarter Maou, one that doesn’t run from such difficult decisions, would be a good thing. Especially one that doesn’t avoid his own bedroom because he doesn’t want to face his fiancée of ten years. It was three days since his return from Dai Shimaron and he had spent every moment short of a bathroom break within his study walls. The additional paperwork and the fact that he needs to do a little bit of catching up (because there were certain things even Gwendal could not sign) made for a good albeit temporary excuse. The small sofa serves him well for a few hours each night, but he knows eventually he will have to return to his own room for a longer period than to change clothes.
Wolfram has been surprisingly absent and quiet during the time, and while Yuuri knows Wolfram understands the responsibility the Maou has to his work, he also knows Wolfram has a limit. That being said, the continued lack of interruption is more frightening than any outburst he has encountered.
As though summoned, Wolfram enters the room then, donning a pair of light green pajamas that accents his green eyes beautifully. His face is firm, but not blazing with anger, the latter observation relieving Yuuri some though not enough to continue his normal breathing pattern. The blonde man comes to the front of the Maou’s desk, and not for the first time Yuuri can appreciate the fact that Wolfram is related to Shinou through two separate blood relations. Aged in the last ten years, he is the image of the ancient deity standing there. But the eyes and expression always give it away--wipe away the smugness that created Shinou’s expressions and you are left with Wolfram, a face that shines with insecurity no matter what his temperament. How could such a beautiful and emotional person come to love an idiot like him? He never has figured it out. The only thing he does know is he is not ready to face Wolfram yet. He may never be ready.
“I’ve removed most of my things, so you can return to your room now.”
Now Yuuri is really not breathing. He stares at him, waiting for more explanation. When it seems apparent that no more will be given, he manages to let out a noise that somehow sounds like it forms a question.
Wolfram is grinding the back of his teeth, a habit of his when he is trying to keep his temper in check. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
He continues to grind and Yuuri continues to stare. Yozak’s words ring in Yuuri ear, in his head, throughout the room. Everyone knows. Even Wolfram knows.
“Just because you are an idiot doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” Wolfram adds, as though the situation needs any clarification. He stands there, expecting something, and Yuuri sits there expecting something, and they keep staring at each other.
Yuuri knows this is when he is supposed to come clean and clear the air. Wolfram has given him his exit on a golden platter, all he needs to do is get to the words, some string of words, out of his throat and into the air. But this isn’t a movie or a storybook with poetic apologies and righteous reasoning, and Yuuri is the furthest thing from a hero.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admits his defeat with his eyes downcast and his voice cracking. ‘I’m sorry’ is the most fitting and yet the least appropriate thing to say, so he allows the words to repeat unending only in his mind.
“Well say something,” is the harsh reply, closer to the Wolfram that he knows but still too reserved to even pretend things are normal. He has the presence of mind to finally stand up from his chair and in a move that would be laughable at any other time, climbs onto the desk and sits on the edge facing Wolfram. Though silent, Yuuri can feel the weight of accusations from Wolfram, long-time endearments turned cold in their truthfulness.
Wimp. Cheater.
“If you knew, why did you wait? Why now?” Yuuri finally looks up to find Wolfram’s face contorted into a myriad of expressions: rage, sorrow, betrayal and disbelief weaved through his light features, from the tension in the space between his brows to the sharp line of his mouth. He watches as Wolfram leans forward, sure that he is about to be struck. Instead, the other man places his arms at either side of Yuuri so both of their palms are gripping the edge of the desk but not touching. His gaze shifts, still exposing some hurt but anger slowly being replaced with pure assuredness and honesty.
“Because I’ve given you everything. I was hoping for at least your honesty in return. But you’ve chosen to run away by any means possible.”
It is this truth that Yuuri has dreaded and is now faced with his failure. This was what his avoidance has cost all of them. Satisfied with his own truth, Wolfram pulls back to his full height.
And still, Yuuri cannot utter the words necessary. It seems a greater kindness to leave them unspoken, whether Wolfram says he wants honesty or not. Knowing the truth and hearing the truth are two matters entirely, and Yuuri would rather remain the person at fault and despised than the person who uses his words to hurt out of his own selfishness.
Wolfram eventually leaves, and Yuuri hopes his now ex-fiancé loathes him just enough for the anger to remain focused but not enough to leave. When the door finally closes, he stares at the vacant spot where only an aura remains.
“I love you, but I’m in love with Conrad. Please don’t leave.”
The words, finally out but met with empty air, fall to waste.
Prologue and Chapter One
Yuuri on Wolfram (flashback)
Chapter Two
Yuuri on Conrad(flashback)
Chapter 3
Yuuri and Murata on Conseqeunces(flashback)
Yuuri on Conrad and Wolfram(flashack)
Chapter Four, Part A
The Death of Young Yuuri (flashback)
Chapter Four, Part B
Current Installment:
Shadows and Sheets
Chapter Five
By Crystaltear
Pairing: ConYuu, some WolfYuu
Rating: R
Warnings: angst
Notes: I rewrote the second half of this chapter so many times it isn’t even funny. Probably way too much lamenting on Yuuri’s part in this chapter, but it needs to be done and over with.
This story looks as though it will conclude in the next chapter (and if not that one then the following) and an epilogue will follow. I also plan on doing a one-shot side story and I’m debating at this point whether or not to do a side story with Wolfram set after this chapter…we’ll see. If you have an opinion on the matter, please let me know!
-------
Even if your hands are shaking,
And your faith is broken.
Even as the eyes are closing,
Do it with a heart wide open.
Say what you need to say.
-“Say” John Mayer
--------------
Yuuri bites back a yawn as he glances at another document that goes into great detail on the new agreement between Dai Shimaron and Shin Makoku. This particular paper is going over the new coordinates of the borders and Yuuri allows himself the pleasure of rolling his eyes at such an absurdity. The new line is in the middle of the ocean--anchor a buoy or something to the spot. He doesn’t understand why whole maps must be rewritten because he gave Dai Shimaron some extra fish.
A voice very much like Gwendal’s assaults his thoughts, grumbling about how there wouldn’t be so much paperwork if he wasn’t such an idiot. Maybe he is even channeling Gwendal’s inner voice at this late hour--Annisina was getting clever with her inventions. The tone certainly matched the glare Gwendal had given him when the senior advisor learned that his Maou had given some territory in exchange for a renewal of the peace agreement.
Despite any sort of disagreement his advisors may harbor, Yuuri feels he has made the correct decision: The loss is a small one in comparison to keeping the peace for as long as possible. He can endure being mocked by the leaders of other countries if it means he can avoid a war. Not to mention he feels his veiled threat to the king that he will personally remove obstacles on the road to peace in the future will hopefully deter problems for a long while. So long as Shin Makoku flourished with trade and goods, he is sure he can keep many out of harm’s way. Perhaps it was not a smart move in long-term diplomacy, but hopefully by the time it matters a smarter person than he would be in charge.
He signs the coordinate agreement and allows the yawn to escape this time. Yes, a smarter Maou, one that doesn’t run from such difficult decisions, would be a good thing. Especially one that doesn’t avoid his own bedroom because he doesn’t want to face his fiancée of ten years. It was three days since his return from Dai Shimaron and he had spent every moment short of a bathroom break within his study walls. The additional paperwork and the fact that he needs to do a little bit of catching up (because there were certain things even Gwendal could not sign) made for a good albeit temporary excuse. The small sofa serves him well for a few hours each night, but he knows eventually he will have to return to his own room for a longer period than to change clothes.
Wolfram has been surprisingly absent and quiet during the time, and while Yuuri knows Wolfram understands the responsibility the Maou has to his work, he also knows Wolfram has a limit. That being said, the continued lack of interruption is more frightening than any outburst he has encountered.
As though summoned, Wolfram enters the room then, donning a pair of light green pajamas that accents his green eyes beautifully. His face is firm, but not blazing with anger, the latter observation relieving Yuuri some though not enough to continue his normal breathing pattern. The blonde man comes to the front of the Maou’s desk, and not for the first time Yuuri can appreciate the fact that Wolfram is related to Shinou through two separate blood relations. Aged in the last ten years, he is the image of the ancient deity standing there. But the eyes and expression always give it away--wipe away the smugness that created Shinou’s expressions and you are left with Wolfram, a face that shines with insecurity no matter what his temperament. How could such a beautiful and emotional person come to love an idiot like him? He never has figured it out. The only thing he does know is he is not ready to face Wolfram yet. He may never be ready.
“I’ve removed most of my things, so you can return to your room now.”
Now Yuuri is really not breathing. He stares at him, waiting for more explanation. When it seems apparent that no more will be given, he manages to let out a noise that somehow sounds like it forms a question.
Wolfram is grinding the back of his teeth, a habit of his when he is trying to keep his temper in check. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
He continues to grind and Yuuri continues to stare. Yozak’s words ring in Yuuri ear, in his head, throughout the room. Everyone knows. Even Wolfram knows.
“Just because you are an idiot doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” Wolfram adds, as though the situation needs any clarification. He stands there, expecting something, and Yuuri sits there expecting something, and they keep staring at each other.
Yuuri knows this is when he is supposed to come clean and clear the air. Wolfram has given him his exit on a golden platter, all he needs to do is get to the words, some string of words, out of his throat and into the air. But this isn’t a movie or a storybook with poetic apologies and righteous reasoning, and Yuuri is the furthest thing from a hero.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admits his defeat with his eyes downcast and his voice cracking. ‘I’m sorry’ is the most fitting and yet the least appropriate thing to say, so he allows the words to repeat unending only in his mind.
“Well say something,” is the harsh reply, closer to the Wolfram that he knows but still too reserved to even pretend things are normal. He has the presence of mind to finally stand up from his chair and in a move that would be laughable at any other time, climbs onto the desk and sits on the edge facing Wolfram. Though silent, Yuuri can feel the weight of accusations from Wolfram, long-time endearments turned cold in their truthfulness.
Wimp. Cheater.
“If you knew, why did you wait? Why now?” Yuuri finally looks up to find Wolfram’s face contorted into a myriad of expressions: rage, sorrow, betrayal and disbelief weaved through his light features, from the tension in the space between his brows to the sharp line of his mouth. He watches as Wolfram leans forward, sure that he is about to be struck. Instead, the other man places his arms at either side of Yuuri so both of their palms are gripping the edge of the desk but not touching. His gaze shifts, still exposing some hurt but anger slowly being replaced with pure assuredness and honesty.
“Because I’ve given you everything. I was hoping for at least your honesty in return. But you’ve chosen to run away by any means possible.”
It is this truth that Yuuri has dreaded and is now faced with his failure. This was what his avoidance has cost all of them. Satisfied with his own truth, Wolfram pulls back to his full height.
And still, Yuuri cannot utter the words necessary. It seems a greater kindness to leave them unspoken, whether Wolfram says he wants honesty or not. Knowing the truth and hearing the truth are two matters entirely, and Yuuri would rather remain the person at fault and despised than the person who uses his words to hurt out of his own selfishness.
Wolfram eventually leaves, and Yuuri hopes his now ex-fiancé loathes him just enough for the anger to remain focused but not enough to leave. When the door finally closes, he stares at the vacant spot where only an aura remains.
“I love you, but I’m in love with Conrad. Please don’t leave.”
The words, finally out but met with empty air, fall to waste.