[Kyou Kara Maou] One Glance Chapter 23
Title: One Glance
Author:
nekokatechan
Rating: PG-13 (Molestation, Dirty talk)
Pairing: Yuuri/Wolfram (Gwendal/Gunter, Conrad/Shouri)
Genre: AU (set in an alternate universe from both our world and Shin Makoku)
Chapter: 23/35
Comments: After a very sexy previous chapter, I’m returning to what this story is primarily about. Imperial Japan and Yuuri and Wolfram’s roles in it. This chapter is one that sets up the mood of what is to come in the next arcs. Those of you wondering why Wolfram knows a certain dance, it’ll be explained in the future.
Previous Chapters: Check out the memories at
neko_writes
Chapter Twenty-Three: Foreign Dignitaries
Wolfram didn’t want to welcome foreigners into the Palace. He didn’t want them in his home. Yes, there were foreigners deeply embedded here, but they were different. They understood the Japanese, they looked at the world with their eyes open. These men were arriving from France, Britain, Spain, Italy, almost every European nation. And no one understood why they were coming…
Yuuri was proud, boasting that Japan now commanded respect in the rest of the world. Wolfram wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want to think about what might happen if one of these men were to decide that Japan, in it’s turmoil with China, was an easy target to overthrow. No one would stand to help them, they had no formal allies. In fact, not even Germany was obligated to help.
“Let’s get you looking impressive,” Flurin said. Wolfram shook his head, surprising her.
“Today I will wear what is fashionable in the mainstream. Fetch me something in dark blue. I’ll wear bright red beneath it,” Wolfram said. Flurin didn’t comment, going to change the kimono hanging on the racks. Greta was sat, fidgeting in her own kimono. Wolfram put his hand on her head to stop her from messing up her hair. It was longer now, reaching to her chin. Flurin had taken great pains to straighten the curls to get it to their full length by using a fire-heated iron.
“Make sure you talk to people in English,” Wolfram said. She looked up at him and nodded, smiling.
“Wolfram? Why aren’t you ready? They’re arriving!” Yuuri burst into the room. Wolfram watched as Flurin straightened out the kimono he was going to wear.
“I will be with you in a moment,” He said. Yuuri ran out, probably trying to make it into the reception hall in time to greet he first ambassadors. Greta rose and began a much slower walk to the throne room, where she and Wolfram were to be waiting for the dignitaries.
“Come here, Empress,” Flurin said. Wolfram allowed her to dress him with her own kind of efficiency. She tied the obi as tightly as she would any other day, but when Wolfram looked behind him he saw a bow far from the usual taiko box he usually wore.
“Darari musubi,” Flurin said when he questioned her. The obi tails were left trailing a little, like the maiko in the hanamachi. Wolfram wondered about the propriety of it for a moment, then realised there was no point. If he didn’t know that there was something slightly off with it, then the foreigners certainly wouldn’t.
Wolfram glided to the throne room. It would not do for him to look late and harassed, now would it?
x
Yuuri nibbled his bottom lip. What was taking Wolfram so long? The foreigners were beginning to get bored, complaining about having to sit on the floor and dirty the knees of their trousers. Their wives with their large frills and elaborate framework under their gowns had trouble sitting without ending up looking like giant cupcakes.
Yuuri guessed they should have supplied chairs.
The doors opened and Wolfram glided in, his head held high. A simple hair ornament of blue silk flowers hung from his hair, his kimono was fairly plain, but elegant. He was wearing something much brighter underneath, and Yuuri was sure he’d have much better luck this time with undressing Wolfram in this iki style. Yuuri did notice the strange bow on that Flurin had tied though, and wondered if the Westerners noticed anything wrong with it. Most of the women were too busy fanning themselves, even though it was far from warm.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I humbly present my wife,” Yuuri said, holding out his arm to Wolfram. The blonde bowed to everyone in the room, muttering something in Japanese that Yuuri didn’t quite catch. A few in the room made noises in the backs of their throat, a few others craned their necks to see better.
“My wife will show the women around the Palace while we men discuss business. I am sure that you will want to see it yourselves after you hear of it’s beauty from your wives and daughters,” Yuuri then bowed. None of the Westerners even inclined their heads. They were so terribly rude and there was no reason to be.
“Take the women around the Palace. Make sure that you show them everything there is to see,” Yuuri muttered to him. Wolfram smiled and bowed to him, before gliding away to round up the women. Yuuri made a point of bowing to every person he met, rather than shaking hands, and engaged in small talk with little enthusiasm.
It was going to be a long day.
x
Wolfram quickly realised that most women weren’t so much interested in looking at the beauty of the Palace, but rather dismantling and belittling everything in it. They talked amongst themselves of the complete nonsense of sitting on the floor, of Buddhism and Shintoism, of eating with chopsticks. Even the shrine, dusted with a soft layer of snow, had them complaining about money being spent in all the wrong places.
Wolfram sighed, turning back to the carriages.
“Mrs. Shibuya,” One of the women called. Wolfram tensed up. Mrs? Since when was he… Ah… He had been introduced as a wife, so they assumed he was just a very handsome woman. It made sense and he wouldn’t discourage that kind of thought.
“Yes Mrs Forelli?” Wolfram turned and bowed. The woman bowed back, uneasily, her umbrella shaking all it’s snow down onto Wolfram’s head. The blonde shuddered and made sure his own umbrella was held back. He felt strange, looking at this western woman, with her long blue dress, a huge bump sticking out of the back like a spider, her cleavage strapped to her chest by a corset. He was not like her, he realised.
“Well, between ladies, I suppose it would be prudent of me to suggest you wear something more flattering for your figure. With your bone structure, and you being such a tiny thing, a corset and skirts would be much more flattering than this tubular costume that the Japanese parade their women in,” She suggested. Wolfram fought back the disgust at her words by bowing to her again.
“I thank you for your concern, my lady, but I have no wish to change the way I dress. It pleases my Emperor and so it pleases me also,” He replied. She looked slightly shocked.
“But surely the Emperor does not choose how you dress? I knew that this country was repressing it’s women,” She said, getting a chorus of agreements from the women behind her. Wolfram was almost shaking in anger.
“I wear clothes like this because I appreciate their beauty, my lady. I also like them because-” They are easier for the Emperor to remove. “-they are Japanese. I am the Empress of Japan, why would I be paraded around by my man in a western costume?” He asked. Forelli seemed a little lost for words at what he’d said. A few women were changing sides now, agreeing with Wolfram.
“It is the sign of being civilised, to wear the clothes that the West wears,” She changed tactics. Wolfram was already ahead of her.
“I say it is a sign of ignorance to judge a place by it’s clothing alone,” He then turned on his heel.
“Come, ladies. I will show you the Emperor’s kimono collection. My maid, Flurin, will be able to dress you,” Wolfram suggested. The women flocked to the carriages. Even those that had been agreeing with Forelli.
Wolfram knew the way to a woman’s heart. He’d dress them in kimono and they’d love him for it.
x
Greta was stuck in a carriage with Wolfram and that horrible Forelli woman. When the returned to the main courtyard she was already more than sick of the woman. She had complained about everything, even the snow, which was hardly anyone’s fault. She seemed determined to hate Japan.
Greta stepped out of the carriage, taking Wolfram’s hand and looking around. Echizen was there, among the Empress’ guard. Greta let go of Wolfram’s hand and walked over to him. Echizen smiled at her, Karupin peeking around his feet.
“The Empress doesn’t look very happy,” He warned. Greta looked over her shoulder and realised that Wolfram did look angry. She smiled and bowed to Echizen, petting Karupin behind the ear, before running back to her Papa.
x
Wolfram opened the door to the kimono store. The women all walked inside, picking their way through trunks and kimono racks. Flurin and a team of maids were there, some kimono already airing on the racks. Wolfram bowed to her and then went to sit somewhere out of the way, where he would not see any naked women.
“Will you not change too, Empress?” Forelli asked. Wolfram looked up at her and sighed. He wasn’t going to hide that he was male, that would be degrading. So he stood up and had a quiet word with Flurin. She set out a screen, allowing Wolfram to step behind it.
“Why do you hide behind that? Surely there is nothing there we have not seen?” A woman said. A few others giggled. Wolfram untied his obi, letting it fall to the ground and began to remove his robes.
“That knot you wore made you look like one of those whores. Those geisha women. They wear their bow tails trailing behind them, do they not?” Forelli asked. Wolfram didn’t know how much more of this he could take. These ambassadors were not meant to be insulting him.
“The geisha are not whores. They choose, much as you do, who will be their patron. They sell their time, not their bodies. And the bow was not the type that training-geisha, maiko, wear,” He explained. He heard some quiet ‘oof’s of women getting their first taste of an obi.
“Empress,” Flurin handed him some robes. Wolfram took them, slipping on the extra white robe with red dragons on. He then pulled the kimono on top, crossing it over and moving from behind the screen to allow Flurin to tie an obi. He wore red now, with white, gold and black butterflies on it. It was not wholly appropriate for a person in his position, but it was beautiful enough to draw attention away from the telltale signs that he was male.
“You have not explained the screen to us,” Forelli persisted. She was still only wearing her nagajuban, as the maids were trying to find more padding. Wolfram could see now why she hated the idea of the tube-figure. She was curvy, the corset had moulded her shape so that she was the perfect hourglass. That would have to be padded away just for a kimono to fit her.
“Only those who have to may see the Empress’ body. It is for the Emperor’s eyes alone,” Flurin said quietly. Wolfram mentally thanked Flurin for making up such a creative lie so quickly.
“Just another way that the men of Japan-”
“I choose it to be this way,” Wolfram interrupted her. He looked deep into her eyes.
“Yuuri is kind to me in more ways than you can know. He is a husband whom I love dearly. He has risked his life for me, fought his own brother, prayed for me when I was sick. There is no control in our relationship, merely one of us assuming a role that Japan needs,” He said, knowing that he was starting to blush from having to describe Yuuri so openly. Forelli snorted.
“It was an arranged marriage. How can their be love?” She asked. Wolfram looked down.
“You are right, of course, Mrs. Forelli. How can there be love when I have been forced into this? But I have been propositioned by other men, the Emperor’s own brother for one, and I have never felt the urge to stray,” Wolfram didn’t make a sound as his obi, a golden yellow, was tied around his waist. Many of the women, so unused to the shape of it, were groaning or going red in the face. Wolfram just stood there, so used to the obi that he didn’t even register how tight it was.
“That is a credit to your upbringing rather than any merit on that man’s behalf,” Forelli seemed determined to find fault in Yuuri, but Wolfram would not have it. He would not allow this woman, who didn’t even know Yuuri, slander him so.
“My upbringing as the Prince of Germany you mean?” He asked. The whole room seemed to stop dead, then there were screams as the woman began to cover themselves, holding up nagajuban over their corsets.
“You are an interesting bride, aren’t you?” Forelli said. Wolfram stared into her eyes.
“I am Shibuya Wolfram by choice, my lady. I would not have taken that name if I did not feel something for the one with whom I shared it.”
x
Shouri had met up with Wolfram to see how things were going. As soon as he arrived he found that Wolfram seemed to be quite popular. There were two groups of women. The Spanish, Italian and Portuguese ladies were stood together, discussing something amongst themselves. The others appeared to be firing questions at Wolfram.
“Ohayo,” Shouri greeted, bowing to the ladies. The younger ones, who Shouri assumed were daughters, giggled and began to flutter their feathered fans rapidly. Shouri had to look away to stop himself from going cross-eyed.
“Shouri-nii!” Wolfram hopped to his feet from where he’d been sat. They were all on chairs, sat forward to prevent their obi bows from squashing. Even in kimono though, the Westerners still looked like Westerners. Looking at Wolfram, the Prince realised how different the Empress was from them. Each movement so graceful and precise, from his steps to his bow to the simple act of straightening his sleeve.
“Wolfram, you have finished showing the ladies around the Palace?” Shouri asked. The Empress nodded, the flowers in his hair swinging. The ladies were still watching Shouri with avid interest.
“You may want to make it clear that you aren’t in the marriage market,” Wolfram muttered before turning to the ladies.
“Ladies, this is Shibuya Shouri, the Prince of Japan. Please address him like you would any other Prince,” Wolfram said. Shouri bowed, going along the line of ladies who tried to curtsey in their kimono and ended up setting their skirts in disarray.
“Conrad-san is meeting us here in a moment. We are to escort you to the banquet room for a traditional Japanese lunch,” Shouri said, only a small hint of a blush spreading across his face when he mentioned Conrad’s name. Wolfram sighed.
“Raw fish and rice. And they think that Japan is uncivilised?” Wolfram said sarcastically. Shouri shrugged.
“It was Murata’s idea and he paid for it all. What was Yuuri going to say? Murata’s his best friend,” The Prince reasoned. Wolfram rolled his eyes and clapped his hands to get the women’s attention. All talk ceased almost immediately.
“Sorry I’m late. I had a problem in the barracks,” Conrad said, still doing up his sword belt buckle. Wolfram nodded to him and grimaced at how obviously Shouri and Conrad were making eyes at each other. The Westerners would surely believe this was just a homosexuals’ haven.
“We are now ready to go to lunch.”
x
Geisha. Wolfram nearly groaned. There was such a thing as overkill, and this was certainly it. Geisha had been called to entertain at lunch, only the women could not speak English very well. They tried speaking in slow Japanese for a while before giving up.
Even worse was that Wolfram had been placed at a table with the Forellis. They complained about the shamisen music, about the food, about there not being enough cushions on the floor to save their knees from being hurt. The only thing stopping Wolfram from committing ritual suicide was that Shouri had been seated beside him. Even so Wolfram finally snapped when Mrs. Forelli began to complain about the fan dance that one of the geisha was performing.
“It’s not like ballet or even like waltz. These dances require no skill,” She said, her nose in the air. Wolfram gritted his teeth, turning to the geisha beside him.
“May I have your fan please?” He asked. She handed it over and Wolfram pulled the other one out of his obi. He rose to his feet. With a flick of his hand the fans opened, revealing their plain red colour. He danced perfectly, twirling the fans, throwing them and catching them, and representing the story he was trying to tell of the dying courtesan. He snapped them shut on his legs with a flourish and bowed as a few people, including a wide-mouthed Yuuri, clapped and voiced their opinions.
“Now you try,” Wolfram challenged, throwing the fans across the table at her, watching them clatter onto her empty plate. The woman looked at them, before sneering.
“A fan is to cool oneself down with, not to dance,” She said. Wolfram bowed to her and sat down, glad to have made his point to everyone else in the room at least.
x
Yuuri felt strangely cheated that he hadn’t been allowed a private screening before Wolfram showed everyone else his newly developed skill. After lunch, he took the Empress’ arm and pulled him into a spare room. He saw Wolfram cast a look back at the people he’d been whisked from.
Yuuri looked over his shoulder to see an Italian couple watching them. He smirked and decided that they were far enough away from them to not be heard. The first thing he did was kiss Wolfram, sliding his tongue passed the blonde’s lips and pulling the Empress’ body flush against him.
“What’s that for?” Wolfram asked, his cheeks slightly flushed as they pulled apart.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were learning some of the arts?” The Emperor replied. Wolfram looked away.
“I’m learning it for a special reason that you don’t need to know yet,” The blonde said, raising his head stubbornly. Yuuri smiled, his hand moving to stroke up and down the side of Wolfram’s neck.
“When you’re ready to spill your secret then tell me,” Yuuri said, pressing another kiss to Wolfram’s lips and letting his hand wander downwards to give Wolfram’s ass a tight squeeze. The blonde yelped and pulled away blushing.
“Yuuri! People are watching!” He scolded. Yuuri allowed himself a proud smirk.
“I know. Your little dance in there made me horny though. Let’s skip entertaining the guests and go back to our rooms,” He said, moving forward so the words were whispered into the blonde’s ear. He heard Wolfram’s breathing speed up, no doubt imagining what the two of them could do with a whole afternoon together.
“Just the two of us, touching, kissing…” Yuuri paused before whispering the last word. “Coming…” Wolfram opened his mouth to say something but Yuuri pulled away with a teasing smile.
“Ja,” He said, walking away. He looked over his shoulder to see Wolfram stood there with an ‘I’ll-kill-you’ look on his face.
x
Wolfram ignored Forelli for the rest of the day, preferring to educate those who wished to learn. The women had become more attentive after the incident with the fans and Wolfram had taken them to his rooms in order to get them comfortable. Seven women sat around his tea table, most of them excited. They looked around in wonder at the Empress’ things.
“The Emperor spoils you,” Forelli said. However at the same time one of the British girls was exclaiming over the beauty of the furnishings. It was not difficult to chose which one to answer to.
“Let me show you one of the most precious things my Emperor has given me,” He said, getting to his feet and walking over to his trunk. He knelt down, sifting through the paper wrapped kimono and the other furs.
“I shall bet that it is something perverse or disgusting,” Forelli tried once again to get a rise out of Wolfram and failed. The Empress rose above her jibes and pulled out the tiger skin, spreading it across his knees to display it.
“Oh my goodness! This is priceless!” One of the women said, reaching out to touch it, stroking the fur with almost reverence. Wolfram held it out to her.
“Here, you can only get a real feel of it’s worth when you actually feel it’s weight,” He said. The woman backed away.
“I couldn’t. It’s much to expensive,” She protested. Wolfram kept it held out for her to take.
“Please,” He persisted. Hesitantly she took it, her thumbs running up and down the fur, marvelling at it’s softness.
“And us!” The fur was handed around, nearly every woman was enraptured by the fur, holding it against their powdered faces and brushing across it’s length.
“Like I said, he spoils you,” Forelli said, refusing to take the fur. Wolfram ignored her, instead he took the fur back and folded it, placing it back in it’s paper wrapping and dropping it into the trunk.
“I will be right back. I heard the Emperor in his room. I will see if he isn’t too busy to introduce himself personally,” Wolfram said, rising to his feet in a single movement and walking to the door. He heard the women clambering to their feet, peering around his bed to peek through the door. Wolfram opened it and his eyes widened.
Yuuri was obviously getting changed and was completely naked. The Empress dashed through the door, closing it behind him. He heard giggles from the other room and knew that they’d seen.
“Woru-chan?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow. He was about to pull his hakama on but Wolfram stopped him, taking a moment to admire Yuuri’s naked form.
“You know, you look better like this. I don’t see why you don’t just walk around this way all the time,” Wolfram said, matter-of-factly. He allowed his hand to trail down Yuuri’s chest to his six-pack. He’d begun to form proper muscles from his training now…
“I think your ladies would pass out if I did,” Yuuri said, moving to pull his hakama and kosode on. Wolfram shrugged, he hadn’t really thought he could convince Yuuri to stay naked anyway.
“Will you meet them?” He asked. Yuuri looked at him with desperate eyes.
“Do I have a choice?”
x
They were to stay in the Palace for a week before spending the winter at many different estates throughout Japan. Wolfram grouched at Yuuri everyday about the Forelli woman. Even so, he still had to put up with her.
Then…
“Empress. May I speak to your privately?” Mr. Forelli asked at dinner. Wolfram blinked and nodded. After dinner he took Forelli to a side room, ignoring the man’s wife’s glares.
“Is there some matter that needs my attention, Mr. Forelli?” Wolfram asked. The man smiled, moving forward into the Empress’ personal space. Wolfram took a step back but ended up pressed against the wall. The room was only an ante-chamber where people were supposed to hang their haori or coats, not somewhere to have a long conversation.
“There is. How much do you charge?” Forelli asked. Wolfram’s eyes widened, putting his hand up to Forelli’s chest to try to prevent him from moving closer.
“I think you are mistaken. I am not-” Wolfram began but the man took his wrists, pinning them above his head.
“You do not charge for additional service? How fortunate for me,” He used one hand to hold Wolfram’s wrists, the other was moving to pull at the obi. He managed to get it undone, despite Wolfram lashing out, trying to get away. He seemed the enjoy Wolfram’s struggling more.
“Stop! No! Forelli!” Wolfram yelled, his wrists numb from the tight grip around them, his kimono falling open to reveal his body. The man sucked in his breath at the sight and began to fumble with the front of his trousers.
“Stop! Please! Don’t!” Wolfram brought his knee up between them, trying to kick Forelli back. The man just pushed it aside, now able to position himself so close that Wolfram could barely breathe.
“But I heard that you were just a common whore pretending to be Empress. Is this your specialty? Pretending?” He tried to lift Wolfram up, spreading his legs apart and pressing his lips against Wolfram’s. The blonde bared his teeth, trying to bite and scream and struggle at the same time.
“Empress?” Someone opened the door. It was all the distraction that Wolfram needed to pull his robes together and run from the room. He tripped over his own robes falling to his knees in the middle of the banquet hall, quaking with fear and disgust.
“Wolfram!” Yuuri was there in an instant, then looking at the door to see Forelli emerge. Mrs. Forelli made an outraged noise in the back of her throat. Wolfram watched as the Emperor’s eyes turned dark.
“Get. Out. All of you, leave. I will have no one touch the Empress this way. To show such disrespect as to abuse your stay here. Go, now. I never wish to see any of you again,” Yuuri’s voice was like ice. There was a mass scramble as everyone tried to leave at once. Eventually the only people who were left was Wolfram and Yuuri. The servants and their friends had left to give them privacy.
“How could you let him? How far did it get?” Yuuri demanded. Wolfram shuddered but held back the tears. He would not cry. It was useless.
“S-someone interrupted him before it got t-too far. He’d… He’d only managed to undress me,” Wolfram said, his voice seeming small in the empty hall. He couldn’t look Yuuri in the eye. He felt so ashamed of himself, to have let that happen. Instead he watched the Emperor’s lap, seeing the fists clenched in the fabric.
“Don’t you understand that you’re mine? That no one else is allowed to touch you?” Yuuri demanded. Wolfram didn’t want to cry. He wouldn’t cry, but when he looked up at Yuuri and saw the anger, the worry, the hurt there, he couldn’t help it.
“I d-didn’t want to b-belong to anyone else… Yuuri… Yuuri!” Wolfram threw himself forward, his arms wrapping hopelessly around Yuuri’s waist, his face pressed against the man’s stomach. Yuuri’s hand rested on his head, beginning to stroke through it.
“You didn’t entice him?” Yuuri asked. Wolfram shook his head, desperate to get Yuuri to believe him. He’d never have done something like that. Never.
“I swear to you! No matter how desirable other people find me, I am yours only!” Wolfram looked into Yuuri’s eyes and saw that the Emperor believed him. Yuuri’s arms wrapped around him as they knelt in the middle of the empty banquet hall, lost in their own hell.
Author:
nekokatechan
Rating: PG-13 (Molestation, Dirty talk)
Pairing: Yuuri/Wolfram (Gwendal/Gunter, Conrad/Shouri)
Genre: AU (set in an alternate universe from both our world and Shin Makoku)
Chapter: 23/35
Comments: After a very sexy previous chapter, I’m returning to what this story is primarily about. Imperial Japan and Yuuri and Wolfram’s roles in it. This chapter is one that sets up the mood of what is to come in the next arcs. Those of you wondering why Wolfram knows a certain dance, it’ll be explained in the future.
Previous Chapters: Check out the memories at
neko_writes
Chapter Twenty-Three: Foreign Dignitaries
Wolfram didn’t want to welcome foreigners into the Palace. He didn’t want them in his home. Yes, there were foreigners deeply embedded here, but they were different. They understood the Japanese, they looked at the world with their eyes open. These men were arriving from France, Britain, Spain, Italy, almost every European nation. And no one understood why they were coming…
Yuuri was proud, boasting that Japan now commanded respect in the rest of the world. Wolfram wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want to think about what might happen if one of these men were to decide that Japan, in it’s turmoil with China, was an easy target to overthrow. No one would stand to help them, they had no formal allies. In fact, not even Germany was obligated to help.
“Let’s get you looking impressive,” Flurin said. Wolfram shook his head, surprising her.
“Today I will wear what is fashionable in the mainstream. Fetch me something in dark blue. I’ll wear bright red beneath it,” Wolfram said. Flurin didn’t comment, going to change the kimono hanging on the racks. Greta was sat, fidgeting in her own kimono. Wolfram put his hand on her head to stop her from messing up her hair. It was longer now, reaching to her chin. Flurin had taken great pains to straighten the curls to get it to their full length by using a fire-heated iron.
“Make sure you talk to people in English,” Wolfram said. She looked up at him and nodded, smiling.
“Wolfram? Why aren’t you ready? They’re arriving!” Yuuri burst into the room. Wolfram watched as Flurin straightened out the kimono he was going to wear.
“I will be with you in a moment,” He said. Yuuri ran out, probably trying to make it into the reception hall in time to greet he first ambassadors. Greta rose and began a much slower walk to the throne room, where she and Wolfram were to be waiting for the dignitaries.
“Come here, Empress,” Flurin said. Wolfram allowed her to dress him with her own kind of efficiency. She tied the obi as tightly as she would any other day, but when Wolfram looked behind him he saw a bow far from the usual taiko box he usually wore.
“Darari musubi,” Flurin said when he questioned her. The obi tails were left trailing a little, like the maiko in the hanamachi. Wolfram wondered about the propriety of it for a moment, then realised there was no point. If he didn’t know that there was something slightly off with it, then the foreigners certainly wouldn’t.
Wolfram glided to the throne room. It would not do for him to look late and harassed, now would it?
x
Yuuri nibbled his bottom lip. What was taking Wolfram so long? The foreigners were beginning to get bored, complaining about having to sit on the floor and dirty the knees of their trousers. Their wives with their large frills and elaborate framework under their gowns had trouble sitting without ending up looking like giant cupcakes.
Yuuri guessed they should have supplied chairs.
The doors opened and Wolfram glided in, his head held high. A simple hair ornament of blue silk flowers hung from his hair, his kimono was fairly plain, but elegant. He was wearing something much brighter underneath, and Yuuri was sure he’d have much better luck this time with undressing Wolfram in this iki style. Yuuri did notice the strange bow on that Flurin had tied though, and wondered if the Westerners noticed anything wrong with it. Most of the women were too busy fanning themselves, even though it was far from warm.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I humbly present my wife,” Yuuri said, holding out his arm to Wolfram. The blonde bowed to everyone in the room, muttering something in Japanese that Yuuri didn’t quite catch. A few in the room made noises in the backs of their throat, a few others craned their necks to see better.
“My wife will show the women around the Palace while we men discuss business. I am sure that you will want to see it yourselves after you hear of it’s beauty from your wives and daughters,” Yuuri then bowed. None of the Westerners even inclined their heads. They were so terribly rude and there was no reason to be.
“Take the women around the Palace. Make sure that you show them everything there is to see,” Yuuri muttered to him. Wolfram smiled and bowed to him, before gliding away to round up the women. Yuuri made a point of bowing to every person he met, rather than shaking hands, and engaged in small talk with little enthusiasm.
It was going to be a long day.
x
Wolfram quickly realised that most women weren’t so much interested in looking at the beauty of the Palace, but rather dismantling and belittling everything in it. They talked amongst themselves of the complete nonsense of sitting on the floor, of Buddhism and Shintoism, of eating with chopsticks. Even the shrine, dusted with a soft layer of snow, had them complaining about money being spent in all the wrong places.
Wolfram sighed, turning back to the carriages.
“Mrs. Shibuya,” One of the women called. Wolfram tensed up. Mrs? Since when was he… Ah… He had been introduced as a wife, so they assumed he was just a very handsome woman. It made sense and he wouldn’t discourage that kind of thought.
“Yes Mrs Forelli?” Wolfram turned and bowed. The woman bowed back, uneasily, her umbrella shaking all it’s snow down onto Wolfram’s head. The blonde shuddered and made sure his own umbrella was held back. He felt strange, looking at this western woman, with her long blue dress, a huge bump sticking out of the back like a spider, her cleavage strapped to her chest by a corset. He was not like her, he realised.
“Well, between ladies, I suppose it would be prudent of me to suggest you wear something more flattering for your figure. With your bone structure, and you being such a tiny thing, a corset and skirts would be much more flattering than this tubular costume that the Japanese parade their women in,” She suggested. Wolfram fought back the disgust at her words by bowing to her again.
“I thank you for your concern, my lady, but I have no wish to change the way I dress. It pleases my Emperor and so it pleases me also,” He replied. She looked slightly shocked.
“But surely the Emperor does not choose how you dress? I knew that this country was repressing it’s women,” She said, getting a chorus of agreements from the women behind her. Wolfram was almost shaking in anger.
“I wear clothes like this because I appreciate their beauty, my lady. I also like them because-” They are easier for the Emperor to remove. “-they are Japanese. I am the Empress of Japan, why would I be paraded around by my man in a western costume?” He asked. Forelli seemed a little lost for words at what he’d said. A few women were changing sides now, agreeing with Wolfram.
“It is the sign of being civilised, to wear the clothes that the West wears,” She changed tactics. Wolfram was already ahead of her.
“I say it is a sign of ignorance to judge a place by it’s clothing alone,” He then turned on his heel.
“Come, ladies. I will show you the Emperor’s kimono collection. My maid, Flurin, will be able to dress you,” Wolfram suggested. The women flocked to the carriages. Even those that had been agreeing with Forelli.
Wolfram knew the way to a woman’s heart. He’d dress them in kimono and they’d love him for it.
x
Greta was stuck in a carriage with Wolfram and that horrible Forelli woman. When the returned to the main courtyard she was already more than sick of the woman. She had complained about everything, even the snow, which was hardly anyone’s fault. She seemed determined to hate Japan.
Greta stepped out of the carriage, taking Wolfram’s hand and looking around. Echizen was there, among the Empress’ guard. Greta let go of Wolfram’s hand and walked over to him. Echizen smiled at her, Karupin peeking around his feet.
“The Empress doesn’t look very happy,” He warned. Greta looked over her shoulder and realised that Wolfram did look angry. She smiled and bowed to Echizen, petting Karupin behind the ear, before running back to her Papa.
x
Wolfram opened the door to the kimono store. The women all walked inside, picking their way through trunks and kimono racks. Flurin and a team of maids were there, some kimono already airing on the racks. Wolfram bowed to her and then went to sit somewhere out of the way, where he would not see any naked women.
“Will you not change too, Empress?” Forelli asked. Wolfram looked up at her and sighed. He wasn’t going to hide that he was male, that would be degrading. So he stood up and had a quiet word with Flurin. She set out a screen, allowing Wolfram to step behind it.
“Why do you hide behind that? Surely there is nothing there we have not seen?” A woman said. A few others giggled. Wolfram untied his obi, letting it fall to the ground and began to remove his robes.
“That knot you wore made you look like one of those whores. Those geisha women. They wear their bow tails trailing behind them, do they not?” Forelli asked. Wolfram didn’t know how much more of this he could take. These ambassadors were not meant to be insulting him.
“The geisha are not whores. They choose, much as you do, who will be their patron. They sell their time, not their bodies. And the bow was not the type that training-geisha, maiko, wear,” He explained. He heard some quiet ‘oof’s of women getting their first taste of an obi.
“Empress,” Flurin handed him some robes. Wolfram took them, slipping on the extra white robe with red dragons on. He then pulled the kimono on top, crossing it over and moving from behind the screen to allow Flurin to tie an obi. He wore red now, with white, gold and black butterflies on it. It was not wholly appropriate for a person in his position, but it was beautiful enough to draw attention away from the telltale signs that he was male.
“You have not explained the screen to us,” Forelli persisted. She was still only wearing her nagajuban, as the maids were trying to find more padding. Wolfram could see now why she hated the idea of the tube-figure. She was curvy, the corset had moulded her shape so that she was the perfect hourglass. That would have to be padded away just for a kimono to fit her.
“Only those who have to may see the Empress’ body. It is for the Emperor’s eyes alone,” Flurin said quietly. Wolfram mentally thanked Flurin for making up such a creative lie so quickly.
“Just another way that the men of Japan-”
“I choose it to be this way,” Wolfram interrupted her. He looked deep into her eyes.
“Yuuri is kind to me in more ways than you can know. He is a husband whom I love dearly. He has risked his life for me, fought his own brother, prayed for me when I was sick. There is no control in our relationship, merely one of us assuming a role that Japan needs,” He said, knowing that he was starting to blush from having to describe Yuuri so openly. Forelli snorted.
“It was an arranged marriage. How can their be love?” She asked. Wolfram looked down.
“You are right, of course, Mrs. Forelli. How can there be love when I have been forced into this? But I have been propositioned by other men, the Emperor’s own brother for one, and I have never felt the urge to stray,” Wolfram didn’t make a sound as his obi, a golden yellow, was tied around his waist. Many of the women, so unused to the shape of it, were groaning or going red in the face. Wolfram just stood there, so used to the obi that he didn’t even register how tight it was.
“That is a credit to your upbringing rather than any merit on that man’s behalf,” Forelli seemed determined to find fault in Yuuri, but Wolfram would not have it. He would not allow this woman, who didn’t even know Yuuri, slander him so.
“My upbringing as the Prince of Germany you mean?” He asked. The whole room seemed to stop dead, then there were screams as the woman began to cover themselves, holding up nagajuban over their corsets.
“You are an interesting bride, aren’t you?” Forelli said. Wolfram stared into her eyes.
“I am Shibuya Wolfram by choice, my lady. I would not have taken that name if I did not feel something for the one with whom I shared it.”
x
Shouri had met up with Wolfram to see how things were going. As soon as he arrived he found that Wolfram seemed to be quite popular. There were two groups of women. The Spanish, Italian and Portuguese ladies were stood together, discussing something amongst themselves. The others appeared to be firing questions at Wolfram.
“Ohayo,” Shouri greeted, bowing to the ladies. The younger ones, who Shouri assumed were daughters, giggled and began to flutter their feathered fans rapidly. Shouri had to look away to stop himself from going cross-eyed.
“Shouri-nii!” Wolfram hopped to his feet from where he’d been sat. They were all on chairs, sat forward to prevent their obi bows from squashing. Even in kimono though, the Westerners still looked like Westerners. Looking at Wolfram, the Prince realised how different the Empress was from them. Each movement so graceful and precise, from his steps to his bow to the simple act of straightening his sleeve.
“Wolfram, you have finished showing the ladies around the Palace?” Shouri asked. The Empress nodded, the flowers in his hair swinging. The ladies were still watching Shouri with avid interest.
“You may want to make it clear that you aren’t in the marriage market,” Wolfram muttered before turning to the ladies.
“Ladies, this is Shibuya Shouri, the Prince of Japan. Please address him like you would any other Prince,” Wolfram said. Shouri bowed, going along the line of ladies who tried to curtsey in their kimono and ended up setting their skirts in disarray.
“Conrad-san is meeting us here in a moment. We are to escort you to the banquet room for a traditional Japanese lunch,” Shouri said, only a small hint of a blush spreading across his face when he mentioned Conrad’s name. Wolfram sighed.
“Raw fish and rice. And they think that Japan is uncivilised?” Wolfram said sarcastically. Shouri shrugged.
“It was Murata’s idea and he paid for it all. What was Yuuri going to say? Murata’s his best friend,” The Prince reasoned. Wolfram rolled his eyes and clapped his hands to get the women’s attention. All talk ceased almost immediately.
“Sorry I’m late. I had a problem in the barracks,” Conrad said, still doing up his sword belt buckle. Wolfram nodded to him and grimaced at how obviously Shouri and Conrad were making eyes at each other. The Westerners would surely believe this was just a homosexuals’ haven.
“We are now ready to go to lunch.”
x
Geisha. Wolfram nearly groaned. There was such a thing as overkill, and this was certainly it. Geisha had been called to entertain at lunch, only the women could not speak English very well. They tried speaking in slow Japanese for a while before giving up.
Even worse was that Wolfram had been placed at a table with the Forellis. They complained about the shamisen music, about the food, about there not being enough cushions on the floor to save their knees from being hurt. The only thing stopping Wolfram from committing ritual suicide was that Shouri had been seated beside him. Even so Wolfram finally snapped when Mrs. Forelli began to complain about the fan dance that one of the geisha was performing.
“It’s not like ballet or even like waltz. These dances require no skill,” She said, her nose in the air. Wolfram gritted his teeth, turning to the geisha beside him.
“May I have your fan please?” He asked. She handed it over and Wolfram pulled the other one out of his obi. He rose to his feet. With a flick of his hand the fans opened, revealing their plain red colour. He danced perfectly, twirling the fans, throwing them and catching them, and representing the story he was trying to tell of the dying courtesan. He snapped them shut on his legs with a flourish and bowed as a few people, including a wide-mouthed Yuuri, clapped and voiced their opinions.
“Now you try,” Wolfram challenged, throwing the fans across the table at her, watching them clatter onto her empty plate. The woman looked at them, before sneering.
“A fan is to cool oneself down with, not to dance,” She said. Wolfram bowed to her and sat down, glad to have made his point to everyone else in the room at least.
x
Yuuri felt strangely cheated that he hadn’t been allowed a private screening before Wolfram showed everyone else his newly developed skill. After lunch, he took the Empress’ arm and pulled him into a spare room. He saw Wolfram cast a look back at the people he’d been whisked from.
Yuuri looked over his shoulder to see an Italian couple watching them. He smirked and decided that they were far enough away from them to not be heard. The first thing he did was kiss Wolfram, sliding his tongue passed the blonde’s lips and pulling the Empress’ body flush against him.
“What’s that for?” Wolfram asked, his cheeks slightly flushed as they pulled apart.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were learning some of the arts?” The Emperor replied. Wolfram looked away.
“I’m learning it for a special reason that you don’t need to know yet,” The blonde said, raising his head stubbornly. Yuuri smiled, his hand moving to stroke up and down the side of Wolfram’s neck.
“When you’re ready to spill your secret then tell me,” Yuuri said, pressing another kiss to Wolfram’s lips and letting his hand wander downwards to give Wolfram’s ass a tight squeeze. The blonde yelped and pulled away blushing.
“Yuuri! People are watching!” He scolded. Yuuri allowed himself a proud smirk.
“I know. Your little dance in there made me horny though. Let’s skip entertaining the guests and go back to our rooms,” He said, moving forward so the words were whispered into the blonde’s ear. He heard Wolfram’s breathing speed up, no doubt imagining what the two of them could do with a whole afternoon together.
“Just the two of us, touching, kissing…” Yuuri paused before whispering the last word. “Coming…” Wolfram opened his mouth to say something but Yuuri pulled away with a teasing smile.
“Ja,” He said, walking away. He looked over his shoulder to see Wolfram stood there with an ‘I’ll-kill-you’ look on his face.
x
Wolfram ignored Forelli for the rest of the day, preferring to educate those who wished to learn. The women had become more attentive after the incident with the fans and Wolfram had taken them to his rooms in order to get them comfortable. Seven women sat around his tea table, most of them excited. They looked around in wonder at the Empress’ things.
“The Emperor spoils you,” Forelli said. However at the same time one of the British girls was exclaiming over the beauty of the furnishings. It was not difficult to chose which one to answer to.
“Let me show you one of the most precious things my Emperor has given me,” He said, getting to his feet and walking over to his trunk. He knelt down, sifting through the paper wrapped kimono and the other furs.
“I shall bet that it is something perverse or disgusting,” Forelli tried once again to get a rise out of Wolfram and failed. The Empress rose above her jibes and pulled out the tiger skin, spreading it across his knees to display it.
“Oh my goodness! This is priceless!” One of the women said, reaching out to touch it, stroking the fur with almost reverence. Wolfram held it out to her.
“Here, you can only get a real feel of it’s worth when you actually feel it’s weight,” He said. The woman backed away.
“I couldn’t. It’s much to expensive,” She protested. Wolfram kept it held out for her to take.
“Please,” He persisted. Hesitantly she took it, her thumbs running up and down the fur, marvelling at it’s softness.
“And us!” The fur was handed around, nearly every woman was enraptured by the fur, holding it against their powdered faces and brushing across it’s length.
“Like I said, he spoils you,” Forelli said, refusing to take the fur. Wolfram ignored her, instead he took the fur back and folded it, placing it back in it’s paper wrapping and dropping it into the trunk.
“I will be right back. I heard the Emperor in his room. I will see if he isn’t too busy to introduce himself personally,” Wolfram said, rising to his feet in a single movement and walking to the door. He heard the women clambering to their feet, peering around his bed to peek through the door. Wolfram opened it and his eyes widened.
Yuuri was obviously getting changed and was completely naked. The Empress dashed through the door, closing it behind him. He heard giggles from the other room and knew that they’d seen.
“Woru-chan?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow. He was about to pull his hakama on but Wolfram stopped him, taking a moment to admire Yuuri’s naked form.
“You know, you look better like this. I don’t see why you don’t just walk around this way all the time,” Wolfram said, matter-of-factly. He allowed his hand to trail down Yuuri’s chest to his six-pack. He’d begun to form proper muscles from his training now…
“I think your ladies would pass out if I did,” Yuuri said, moving to pull his hakama and kosode on. Wolfram shrugged, he hadn’t really thought he could convince Yuuri to stay naked anyway.
“Will you meet them?” He asked. Yuuri looked at him with desperate eyes.
“Do I have a choice?”
x
They were to stay in the Palace for a week before spending the winter at many different estates throughout Japan. Wolfram grouched at Yuuri everyday about the Forelli woman. Even so, he still had to put up with her.
Then…
“Empress. May I speak to your privately?” Mr. Forelli asked at dinner. Wolfram blinked and nodded. After dinner he took Forelli to a side room, ignoring the man’s wife’s glares.
“Is there some matter that needs my attention, Mr. Forelli?” Wolfram asked. The man smiled, moving forward into the Empress’ personal space. Wolfram took a step back but ended up pressed against the wall. The room was only an ante-chamber where people were supposed to hang their haori or coats, not somewhere to have a long conversation.
“There is. How much do you charge?” Forelli asked. Wolfram’s eyes widened, putting his hand up to Forelli’s chest to try to prevent him from moving closer.
“I think you are mistaken. I am not-” Wolfram began but the man took his wrists, pinning them above his head.
“You do not charge for additional service? How fortunate for me,” He used one hand to hold Wolfram’s wrists, the other was moving to pull at the obi. He managed to get it undone, despite Wolfram lashing out, trying to get away. He seemed the enjoy Wolfram’s struggling more.
“Stop! No! Forelli!” Wolfram yelled, his wrists numb from the tight grip around them, his kimono falling open to reveal his body. The man sucked in his breath at the sight and began to fumble with the front of his trousers.
“Stop! Please! Don’t!” Wolfram brought his knee up between them, trying to kick Forelli back. The man just pushed it aside, now able to position himself so close that Wolfram could barely breathe.
“But I heard that you were just a common whore pretending to be Empress. Is this your specialty? Pretending?” He tried to lift Wolfram up, spreading his legs apart and pressing his lips against Wolfram’s. The blonde bared his teeth, trying to bite and scream and struggle at the same time.
“Empress?” Someone opened the door. It was all the distraction that Wolfram needed to pull his robes together and run from the room. He tripped over his own robes falling to his knees in the middle of the banquet hall, quaking with fear and disgust.
“Wolfram!” Yuuri was there in an instant, then looking at the door to see Forelli emerge. Mrs. Forelli made an outraged noise in the back of her throat. Wolfram watched as the Emperor’s eyes turned dark.
“Get. Out. All of you, leave. I will have no one touch the Empress this way. To show such disrespect as to abuse your stay here. Go, now. I never wish to see any of you again,” Yuuri’s voice was like ice. There was a mass scramble as everyone tried to leave at once. Eventually the only people who were left was Wolfram and Yuuri. The servants and their friends had left to give them privacy.
“How could you let him? How far did it get?” Yuuri demanded. Wolfram shuddered but held back the tears. He would not cry. It was useless.
“S-someone interrupted him before it got t-too far. He’d… He’d only managed to undress me,” Wolfram said, his voice seeming small in the empty hall. He couldn’t look Yuuri in the eye. He felt so ashamed of himself, to have let that happen. Instead he watched the Emperor’s lap, seeing the fists clenched in the fabric.
“Don’t you understand that you’re mine? That no one else is allowed to touch you?” Yuuri demanded. Wolfram didn’t want to cry. He wouldn’t cry, but when he looked up at Yuuri and saw the anger, the worry, the hurt there, he couldn’t help it.
“I d-didn’t want to b-belong to anyone else… Yuuri… Yuuri!” Wolfram threw himself forward, his arms wrapping hopelessly around Yuuri’s waist, his face pressed against the man’s stomach. Yuuri’s hand rested on his head, beginning to stroke through it.
“You didn’t entice him?” Yuuri asked. Wolfram shook his head, desperate to get Yuuri to believe him. He’d never have done something like that. Never.
“I swear to you! No matter how desirable other people find me, I am yours only!” Wolfram looked into Yuuri’s eyes and saw that the Emperor believed him. Yuuri’s arms wrapped around him as they knelt in the middle of the empty banquet hall, lost in their own hell.