I'm gonna keep this short, since I'm taking the finals for my summer classes in two days and I have to study! ;o; No prompt for this one, it's just something I thought of. Enjoy!

Chapter 9: Rejection

The first time someone had thrown stones at Conrart's king, the boy had been newly arrived and uncertain of his surroundings – it had made Conrart furious. But those had been humans, and deep down, despite his anger, Conrart could grudgingly understand why they had done it.

The second time Yuuri had been pelted with stones, it broke Conrart's heart.

Yuuri had done many great things since he had dropped into their lives, and mended many wounds. Conrart was so, so proud of the young King, and was privately thankful for the change his Sun had made within himself.

But Shin Makoku, deep down, harbored an ugly thing, not easily changed and full of scars.

Conrart had seen it first hand, when the prejudice and suspicion against those of his kind had caused them to be sent to the front lines. Despite the heavy price the half-bloods had paid to be seen as equals – and they had paid it – Shin Makoku was a stagnant country, slow to change. Yuuri had done his best to staunch this particular wound, knowing how much it meant to Conrart, but how could he cure it, when the King was also the 'poison'—a half-blood, like him?

The half-mazoku soldier did his best to hide Yuuri from the pain and the reality of this world, but sometimes, it wasn't enough.

That day, they had been passing through a town on the outskirts of the country, inspecting the conditions of the countryside. If there was thing he knew about outlying areas, it was that they (being farthest from the center) were always the last to change. He should have seen it coming, but he honestly hadn't expected it, too sure of Yuuri's influence.

"Filthy half-breed!" Someone spat as Yuuri and his party passed on horseback through the square at the town's center.

Conrart flinched, initially thinking that the insult had been directed at him.

But then the first stone had been thrown, and it struck Yuuri squarely in the chest, and then the jeering started.

"We don't want you for our King, mongrel!"

"You all should have been wiped out in the war!"

"You're not worthy to lead us, half-breed!"

"Leave, and never come back!"

Within seconds a sneering mob had massed around them, throwing rocks and rotten fruit at the bewildered king and his horse. Conrart and his brothers immediately formed a protective circle around the double-black King, shielding him from the projectiles as their soldiers dispersed the crowd.

"Don't address your King in such a way!" Wolfram howled at the crowd as they quickly maneuvered the teen away, fury and guilt written across his face.

Gwendal too looked angry, his face pained as the slurs continued to fly.

But Conrart was too focused on Yuuri's expression – it was one of sadness, betrayal, and worst of all, understanding. There was no anger there, no accusation. He could see that Yuuri had already forgiven them.

Conrart could feel his heart rip in half as if was made of paper.

That night, they camped outside the town. Their original plan to stay at an inn in town was been dashed for obvious reasons, and instead they pitched makeshift tents and brought out the bedrolls.

Yuuri was quiet. He insisted on helping set up camp, collecting wood, and carrying supplies. But other than that he had barely said a word, an obvious look of sadness plastered across his face for everyone to see.

Conrart watched over him as he slept, wishing his could do something to ease the teenager's pain.

But Yuuri had not been sleeping – after everyone else had gone to sleep and settled, the camp become quiet. With the wash of silence, the sound of tiny sniffles reached the soldier's ears. He turned and saw Yuuri's small form shake with the smallest of trembles, punctuated every now and then by a sniff or small, open mouthed inhale.

Conrart barely made a sound as he moved to his King's side and placed a comforting hand lightly on his shoulder.

Yuuri stilled for a moment, relaxing into the touch. Then he shrugged it off and sat up, quickly turning towards Conrart and burying his face in the soldier's jacket.

"Conrad…" A muffled sob rose to Conrart's ears, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around the teen protectively.

He didn't know what to say. For once, he was lost for words. What could he say to this boy, that he hadn't repeated to himself a million times, knowing that they had no effect?

"I'm so sorry, Conrad…" Yuuri murmured, catching the soldier off guard.

Conrart looked down at the black head of hair below his chin, eyes widening in confusion.

"It must have been so hard…" Yuuri whispered, clenching Conrart's uniform even more tightly in his fists, "No one deserves that. No one."

Conrart suddenly felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, the meaning of Yuuri's words hitting him hard. A sudden rush of emotion poured over him – all the pain and betrayal he had felt after Luttenburg, the loss of his faith as his uncle had sent him to war and his mother had done nothing to stop it, the wounds from so much rejection ripping open.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Yuuri." He whispered the words that he himself had been starving to hear for most of his life. "Some people just don't understand."

Yuuri nodded, agreeing with Conrart's words.

They sat together for another hour or so, unmoving and silent. But it was the kind of silence that said many things. They exchanged emotions, and came to understand the world a little more. Under those stars, they were two half-mazoku: not yet accepted by the world, but so important to each other.

Yay, sadness! I hope that dialogue made sense. It's like 2AM and my poor, overloaded brain is forgetting how people interact with each other.

See you next chapter, and leave a review if you liked this one!