He brooded with increasing fervor as the day wore on, sinking into guilt and sorrow and loss, and he fell asleep alone on the edge of the bed on top of the covers. He woke in the middle of the night and felt a momentary pang of relief to find Wolfram present, which turned into a kind of desperate amusement at finding him held up from falling on the floor only because he was wrapped up in the blankets on his side of the bed, and Murata was anchoring the other end by laying on it. Only his head and one arm seemed to be properly on the bed. Murata smiled crookedly; he'd found that Wolfram would tend to hold still through the night as long as he was held, but left to himself he was an absurdly restless sleeper. He wondered what Shibuya had made of that – and then slid back into anxiety and sorrow until he fell back asleep, much later.

When he woke, Wolfram was gone again, and Murata decided that one day ought to be enough of accomplishing nothing, so he picked up his book, failed to progress through it for half an hour, then gave up and left the room to wander through the castle. He stopped by the kitchens for something to eat; he'd taken meals in Wolfram's room yesterday and still didn't feel like eating in prolonged company. Today, he went to eat by the fountain and stubbornly enjoyed the sunshine, though he relied more on his coat for warmth than the sun at this time of year.

Then, not sure he would make any progress but at a loss for what else to do with himself and not wanting to return to the room, he headed for the library.

Unexpectedly, he found Wolfram there, seated at a table, slouched and resting his head in his hands.

Murata hesitated, walked over, seated himself two chairs away. He stared through the table and waited for acknowledgement, if it came.

"I don't know why I came here." Murata couldn't quite identify the edge in Wolfram's voice this time – anger? bitterness? He waited to see if more was forthcoming.

"I understand that Shinou's soul had been corrupted, but now it's better, and he's still there, in the temple, right?" Low, unsteady. "So if he wanted, he could possess someone again. And...then if you wanted to, you could have him back, looking pretty much like himself."

Murata stopped breathing, then stood up abruptly, chair moving back with a too-loud noise, and he stumbled over the leg of it, disturbed another chair by grabbing it to keep his balance, and lurched over to grab hold of Wolfram's shoulder, leaned against the table and grabbed his other shoulder, peered into his face. "Don't you ever think that," he said, shaken. "Even if...even if I wasn't already in love with you, even if I didn't know you, I would never – he would never do anything like that, and if he did, I couldn't be in love with him anyway."

"I...I'm not really anything special, and he's the Great One. So..."

"Stop." Murata slid himself into Wolfram's lap, pressed his forehead against Wolfram's neck. "Stop. You...I can't believe you. I'm never leaving you alone for a whole day after a fight again, if this is the kind of nonsense you come up with. You. I love you, the Wolfram who will humor me about horse ribbons, who will bluff with me about stinkbugs, who I have to pin down if I want to keep all my teeth through the night. I can remember being in love with him, but it doesn't matter, because I love you now, and you're here, and you're alive and you're light and life and fire and, and I don't even care if you end up not feeling the same way once you get over Shibuya. I'm going to take however much time I have with you, even if it's only ten more seconds, and I'm going to enjoy it, and I'm going to remember it forever and value it every bit as much as any other memory. And more than that, for as long as I'm Ken Murata."

He felt Wolfram shaking, felt him swallow, felt arms come up to hold onto him.

"I'm sorry, Ken." A whisper. Then a low voice, quiet, "I'm sorry I made stupid assumptions, and I'm sorry I didn't answer your question." A ragged breath. Murata closed his eyes, let himself be held, and held onto hope. "I guess you did remind me a little bit of Yuuri, at first, except then I kept noticing more how the two of you were different. It's...I guess I can't say I know for sure that I wasn't attracted to you in part because you look a little bit like him, but...it's more than that. It was always more than that. You put me at ease more than I ever thought...I like who I am around you. I hated who I was around Yuuri, and then I found you...Listen, I meant what I said about not chasing him now. Even if he came and told me he'd changed his mind, I'd turn him away. I don't want someone else. I don't know if I deserve you, but I love you."

Now Murata felt that he might be shaking as well, but he cleared his throat and thought he managed to pull of something that was recognizable as at least being intended to be a dramatically pompous tone. "No one deserves the Great Sage, Ken Murata."

"Hn. No one deserves to have him inflicted upon them, you mean?"

"Well, yes." Murata grinned with relief at the familiar banter and let Wolfram pull his head back for a kiss.

A few minutes later, Murata said, "You know, no one's very likely to knock at the library door before they come in."

"Well, then they'll learn better for next time."

"I suppose so."