Games Demons Play

Game: The game described here is called Liar, Liar. I was told that there are other variations of this game, and that the mechanics could differ. The procedure and rules described here are those I'm familiar with.

Game I: Liar, Liar

"I'm so sorry about this," said Yuuri for the third time, extracting a huff of annoyance from the blond Mazoku who was currently perched cross-legged on the bed.

"Don't apologize. This isn't your fault."

"But I promised that I'd take you and Greta out—"

"Again," said Wolfram in exasperation, "it's not your fault. It's not as if you can control the weather Yuuri. At least not in this world." His dark green eyes moved towards the window, where a patch of a turbulent sky could be discerned from view. As if to further underline the boy's point, the winds howled ominously, slamming against the glass panes with such intensity that Yuuri was worried for a moment that the windows would break.

"But even so…" Yuuri persisted, but then stopped when his fiancé threw a warning glance in his direction. He sighed miserably. "Why did a storm have to come now? I planned for this ages ago. This was supposed to be a time for us to relax. And this is Greta's first time on Earth too…"

"Greta doesn't mind," Wolfram replied at once. "Besides, she seems to be having so much fun with your mother right now. I saw them at the kitchen on my way up."

"Great," groaned Yuuri, finding no source of relief from that information. "Now our daughter would master the art of curry cooking. Brace yourself, Wolf. Once we get back, we'd have nothing to eat but curry…"

Wolfram shrugged, shuffling back to recline lazily on the pillows. "I don't really mind. As long as Greta makes it, I guess. Nobody had really cooked for me before."

The casual statement caught Yuuri off-guard and he stared at the other boy in disbelief. "Oh come on. Don't tell me that you make your own meals?"

"I don't," Wolfram replied. "But Mother can't really cook, so we leave the preparation of meals to the servants."

"So somebody had cooked for you before."

"Well yes, technically," said Wolfram, rolling his eyes at him. "But servants don't count because they're paid to do those things."

"I see…" Yuuri lapsed into a contemplative silence, studying Wolfram's profile, eyes moving from the other boy's slightly tousled locks, down his pajama-clad legs, to his bare feet. It took him a few seconds to realize that he had been staring.

"What?" Wolfram asked, frowning at him.

Yuuri shook his head. He had been doing this a lot lately, just staring at his accidental fiancé for no apparent reason. He really should stop, especially now that he was running out of excuses to explain this strange tendency.

"Nothing," Yuuri finally managed to mumble. "Er…since we can't go out, what would you like to do instead?"

"What do you usually do when the weather's this bad?" Wolfram asked.

Yuuri frowned, thinking. Then he said slowly, as an idea formed inside his head, "Well…we – that is, Shori and I – used to play board games…or cards…"

"Cards? What are those?" asked the boy with the barest hint of curiosity, head tilted to one side.

"Cards," Yuuri repeated. "Wait, I think I have a deck here somewhere." He shuffled around, opening drawers randomly and pushing a bunch of his various possessions aside to make his search easier. Finally, he found a pack wedged between an old paperback and a metal bookend. He took the deck with him and joined Wolfram on the bed.

"Here," Yuuri said, crossing his legs, copying Wolfram's posture. "These are playing cards."

The boy took one – the ace of clubs – and examined the illustration. After a while, he asked, "So? How do we play with these?"

Yuuri had been thinking about that. A deck of cards could give way to several games, most of which were extremely complicated to explain to an impatient, hot-tempered fire-wielder. Yuuri decided to go with a simple card game that he had learned from a guy in school.

"Well, there's one game in particular. It's called 'Liar, Liar.'" He paused, organizing his thoughts so that he could explain the game properly. Wolfram leaned back against the headboard, waiting for the details. Yuuri showed him the cards first, allowing him to get acquainted with the suits. Then he started explaining the rules of the game.

"The mechanics are simple. We each get a certain number of cards. Then, we try to get rid of all of them. The one who gets rid of all his cards first wins the game."

"So when you say 'get rid' of them, you mean…?"

"We each get to place a card – or more – of one kind, face down, then tell the other what those cards are. Like this…" Yuuri shuffled the cards, dealt them into three sets, gave one set to Wolfram, and kept one for himself. Then he opened his cards and motioned for the other boy to do the same. Wolfram did so, looking a bit mystified but just barely interested.

"And then, I go first," said Yuuri, picking two cards from his hand and placing them face down on the space between them. "Two aces."

Wolfram stared at the cards, brows creased. "But how do I know that those are really two aces?"

"That's the point," said Yuuri. "You don't. So once I make my move, you have three choices – one, you can add to the cards I've just discarded…"

"Any card?" Wolfram interrupted, paying more attention.

"No. It must be the same kind. So since I've just placed down two aces, all you can add is an ace too…or more…"

Wolfram frowned, looking at his cards. "The ace is the weird, lonely-looking one, right?"

Yuuri chuckled at the boy's description. "Yes, that's the one."

"And if I don't have an ace?"

"That leads us to the second choice – you can pass. If you pass, I'll have to lay down another set of cards…"

Wolfram bit his lip, thinking for a moment. Finally, he said, "I pass."

Yuuri grinned, selecting three cards from his hand and placing them atop the ones he had disposed of a minute ago. "Three aces."

For a moment, Wolfram did not say anything. Then his eyes widened with indignation, perhaps realizing that there could only be four aces in a whole deck of cards. "Hey, that can't be right!"

Yuuri smirked at the boy's expression. "Which leads us to the third choice – you can challenge my cards and accuse me of being a liar. If you do, we'll have to open the cards and see. But be careful" – he said quickly as Wolfram had already raised an accusing finger and pointed it at him – "because if I turn out to be telling the truth, you will have to pick up all the cards that have been discarded so far."

Wolfram pursed his lips, seeming to mull over this information for a moment before asking, "And if we prove that you're lying?"

"Then I'll be the one who has to pick up all the discarded cards." He grinned at the bemused fire-wielder. "So? What will you do?"

Wolfram said slowly, "There can't be five aces, so you must be lying." He stared at Yuuri with those intense green eyes and mumbled, "Cheater."

The accusation came so suddenly and so horribly out-of-context to what Yuuri was used to that he couldn't help but burst into laughter. Cheater. Wolfram had often accused him of being one but never in the context of a simple game. The said boy was staring at him defensively and Yuuri had to swallow another fit of laughter that threatened to escape his lips. "I'm sorry. I just…I just...It's just so funny…"

It was clear from Wolfram's expression that he couldn't see the humor in the situation, so Yuuri decided to bring the topic back to the card game. He cleared his throat. "So…you're accusing me then?" His lips twitched and he fought hard to keep his facial muscles in check. "Of being a liar, I mean."

"Of course I am," the other retorted through clenched teeth. "You're obviously lying."

"Okay. You say 'Liar' and then we open the cards."

"Liar," Wolfram huffed. He reached out to flip the cards over, and was met by the sight of…three aces. The boy stared, confused, and Yuuri found himself admiring the look of perplexity on the former's features. It was completely adorable.

But the expression quickly passed, only to be replaced by a suspicious, angry one. The boy turned to the first two cards that Yuuri had disposed of, revealing an ace and a…seven.

"I lied the first time," Yuuri said helpfully, hurrying on with his explanation before Wolfram flies into a rage. It was a good thing that the boy couldn't use his maryoku completely on Earth. Otherwise, Yuuri thought that he'd probably be beset with fireballs by now. "That's part of the game, Wolf! A player can basically place any card and pass it off as something else. You just have to lie and bluff your way through until you have no card left."

Silence.

Wolfram just stared at him through narrowed eyes. Then just as Yuuri was starting to mentally pound himself for suggesting the game in the first place, the boy grinned. Yuuri didn't know if he should feel relieved. The look on Wolfram's face told him that the boy was now taking the game seriously. For some reason, Yuuri suddenly felt scared.

"Your turn, Yuuri," Wolfram said, scooping the cards in his hand, eyes glinting menacingly.

"Er…" Yuuri swallowed hard. "Three queens."

"One more," the boy said confidently, placing a card on top of Yuuri's discarded ones, smirking at him, as if daring him to challenge his move. Yuuri thought it best not to do so. At least for the meantime.

"I pass."

Wolfram smiled triumphantly. "Two kings."

Yuuri paused, considering his move. "Two more."

Green eyes sparkled with mischief. "Two more."

Black eyes shone with amusement. Wolfram was getting the hang of this. But he wouldn't be able to outwit Yuuri just yet. "Two more."

A gleam of perfectly white teeth, and Wolfram's angelic face twisted with an impish smirk. "Four more kings."

Yuuri hesitated. Then making a decision, he said, "Liar." He reached out to flip the cards over, and to his horror, saw four kings.

It was the other boy's turn to laugh at him. "Got you."

Yuuri shook his head at his fiancé, smiling indulgently. "I can't believe this. You're amazing."

Wolfram shrugged modestly. "So are you. You're surprisingly good at this…"

"Of course. I've been playing this game for so long," said Yuuri, collecting all the discarded cards.

"Not the game. In lying." The boy fixed him with one curious green eye. "I've always thought that you were the stubbornly honest type…"

For some reason, Yuuri felt the heat rise up to his face. "You think too much of me. You and everybody else. I'm not perfect."

"We're not saying that you are."

"You make me feel so. I'm always trying my best and all, but sometimes I wonder whether I'm doing enough…"

Wolfram beamed at him, and the action made his face glow. "You're the best Maou that we've ever had. Although don't tell my mother that I said that."

Yuuri smiled back. "I won't. Thank you."

A beat. "For what?"

"For always knowing what to say to cheer me up."

"I just tell you the truth," said Wolfram simply.

"Well yes, but…it means a lot…"

Another pause. And then – "Liar."

Yuuri looked up, confused. "No, I'm telling the truth—"

"I meant your cards, silly," the boy answered, chortling.

"Oh." Yuuri had temporarily forgotten about the game. He couldn't even remember what moves he had made for the past minute. Wolfram reached out one pale hand to turn the cards over, and his face fell.

"Damn it," the boy muttered under his breath, swiping the discarded cards away with one hand. He glanced at Yuuri with a slightly resentful look. "Your turn, then."

"Er…" Yuuri floundered for a moment. "Two sevens."

"Two more."

"One more."

Wolfram's lips lifted into another playful smile. "Four more."

"Hey!" Yuuri whined. He had momentarily lost his concentration and was having a bit of a difficulty getting back on track.

"You could challenge that," Wolfram dared. Yuuri shook his head. The other boy laughed and placed four more cards on the space between them. "Four more sevens."

They continued in that vein for a moment, watching each other closely for any sign of deceit. Then Yuuri asked something that was bothering him for the past minute, "Wolf…why do you do that?"

Wolfram looked convincingly innocent. "Do what?"

"Deflect," Yuuri replied. "I…I mean, just a while ago, I was thanking you about…well…you know…and then, you just changed the topic. Er…" He chuckled a little as an impossible thought entered his mind. "Are you actually embarrassed…?"

Wolfram pursed his lips, annoyed, but his face had also turned slightly red. "Of course not."

"Liar," said Yuuri fondly.

"I told you I'm not!"

Yuuri grinned. "I meant your cards, silly."

Wolfram flushed deeply, keeping his eyes on his cards, avoiding Yuuri's gaze. "This is stupid. No one will ever win this thing."

"Yeah," agreed Yuuri. "But I used to enjoy this, you know. Trying to fool your opponent and outwit him. I mean, you get to do something that is normally forbidden – lie your way through."

"Nothing good ever comes out of lies," Wolfram declared, abandoning his cards.

Yuuri did the same, all interest in the game gone, his attention shifting to the other boy's reaction. "You sound like you have a lot of experience in this…"

"In what?" Wolfram asked, blushing once again.

Yuuri was starting to enjoy how easily the boy would color up at the simplest of things, and he replied shortly, "Lying."

Wolfram rolled his eyes. "Of course I've lied before. Especially when I was younger. But my lies only work on the servants. My brothers could always tell when I'm not being truthful. Even Mother does, and you know how she usually is…"

"Have you ever lied to me?" Yuuri neither knew where that question came from nor why he felt that the answer to that was so important. He just sat back and waited for a response.

Wolfram seemed to be having a hard time answering. But finally he said, "Not so much because…well…I tend to say what I think…all the time…"

"Well, what about that time that you left for the Bielefeld territories? You lied about not wanting to be engaged to me anymore?" Yuuri was surprised at himself for asking that but well, it was too late to take the question back.

Wolfram gaped at him, but he quickly recovered. "I…I never said that I didn't want to be engaged to you anymore."

"You wrote that letter, remember?"

"Yes. And if memory serves me right, I just said that I was dissolving the engagement…"

"Okay," said Yuuri, "but it was implied there just the same."

Wolfram frowned. "You knew why I had to do that."

"I do, but you actually didn't have to."

"Of course I had to. In order to protect you," Wolfram insisted, then added in a possessive tone, "You are my fiancé after all."

Strangely enough, that made Yuuri happy. He beamed at Wolfram, but his face fell almost immediately at his fiancé's next question.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

Wolfram eyed him curiously. "Have you ever lied tome?"

"I…" Yuuri struggled to say something, anything. The honest response would have been a 'yes'. He hadn't been entirely truthful about a lot of things, especially when that concerned his emerging feelings for Wolfram. He had to lie, Yuuri thought in a vain effort to justify his previous actions. He had to continue lying. Because the truth was…embarrassing…and not to mention intolerable. At least for him.

"Have you?" Wolfram repeated, looking him straight in the eye.

"Er…" What was Yuuri supposed to answer to that? "Er…why do you ask?"

Good, answer a question with another question. Delaying tactic number one.

"Just…curious," Wolfram answered, shrugging.

"Curious?" Yuuri echoed. Delaying tactic number two – repeating the last word in the other boy's statement.

"I guess it's because you're not a very good liar, so I'm guessing that lying would take a lot of effort on your part. I'm just curious about the sort of things that you wanted to hide so badly that you would resort to a lie."

"What makes you think that I'm hiding something?" said Yuuri in a wounded tone. Inwardly, he applauded himself. Act like you were offended. Delaying tactic number three.

"I'm not suggesting anything like that. It's just…" There was a rather long pause, wherein Wolfram seemed to be attempting to find the appropriate words to explain himself. After a beat, the boy sighed in defeat and muttered, "Oh just forget it."

Yuuri wanted to sigh himself, but he kept his face as blank as possible. It still wasn't too late. He could still bring the conversation back to lies, and perhaps through that, he could finally tell Wolfram how he felt about him…

Heart pounding loudly, he tried again. "Actually…Wolf?"

Wolfram leaned forward expectantly. "Yes?"

Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, but the words that came out were a lot more different from what he had initially intended to say. "Are you hungry?"

Wolfram looked disappointed, but he smiled just the same. "Well, I guess we should go and taste Greta's cooking…"

"Yeah, let's go eat curry!" Yuuri cried with feigned enthusiasm, hurriedly leaping out of the bed. Internally though, he winced at his own cowardice, especially because he knew all to well that his delaying tactics would soon run out and by then, he would have to confront his real feelings towards his accidental fiancé.

"Kei-san? Are you awake? We're nearly there."

Kei opened his eyes groggily, head still spinning from the lack of sleep. Pierre's – his personal assistant's – apologetic face wavered in and out of his vision. Kei massaged his temples wearily. Perhaps he shouldn't have drunk that entire bottle of wine back at the welcome dinner last night.

He shrugged. Oh well, it was too late for regrets.

"It's too bad that we had to arrive here in this weather," Pierre said conversationally, looking out of the train's window. "But the news said that the storm will let up soon. We're hoping that it won't deter your admirers from attending your exhibit."

Here…Weather…Storm…Admirers…Exhibit…

It took a moment for Kei to finally comprehend what his companion was talking about. Here meant the Saitama Prefecture. Weather and storm meant that they were all idiots for traveling in the middle of the night, at the height of a tropical storm. Admirers meant his legion of adoring, female – and occasionally male – fans. Exhibit was the reason why they braved the inhospitable weather conditions to get to this foreign place, miles away from home.

Exhibit meant his paintings being displayed for the consumption of critical, foreign eyes.

Kei believed himself to be a rather competent painter, in as far as his works had achieved attention and renown from the artistic community, just a few months after he'd started. A sentiment that was not shared by the one person in the world that he wanted to impress the most – his father.

Kei's father had once been a famous painter himself, at least before his wife – Kei's mother – walked out on him for another man. His father succumbed to alcohol after that – an addiction that he had never gotten rid of even after ten years. Kei had not seen his father since a year ago, when he had finally left home for good.

Now that he was making a name out of himself in this same field, Kei felt a bit apprehensive. What was wrong with him? Getting invited to display his work in the Saitama Museum of Modern Art should at least count for something…

But Kei was afraid, and he knew the reason why. In his excitement that someone had taken notice of his paintings, he had paid a visit to his father to inform him of the good news. Kei did not actually know what he was expecting to get from the man. A small degree of recognition perhaps? Or at the extreme, pride?

But Kei got neither. What he got was a derisive laughter from the man he had always looked up to as a little boy. His father said a lot more after that – primarily several synonyms and derivatives of the word 'worthless', as well as a lot of offensive remarks connecting his lack of talent and his physical features.

"They don't give a damn about your work," his father had declared. "They just like your face." The man spat. "You look so much like your mother."

His father had turned his back on him, slammed the door on his face, and that was that. All in all, what Kei got that day was his father's contemptuous prediction that he would fail miserably.

As the train eased into the next station, Kei pondered over his father's words. True, his mother had been exquisitely beautiful, and true, Kei had inherited her looks. Glancing at his barely-discernible reflection in the window, he saw a face that he was often told was the envy of many. Lustrous, dark hair that extended down to his shoulders, sharp, jet-black eyes, and a fair, almost feminine, complexion. Come to think of it, that might be one of the reasons why his father always seemed to look at him with so much animosity.

Kei willed himself to stay optimistic. His father was wrong. He had what it takes. He could do this.

The train came to a standstill, and a loud electronic voice announced that they had reached their destination. Taking a deep breath, Kei collected his belongings and followed his assistant out into the station.

The weather had improved dramatically.

Yuuri could tell as soon as he opened his eyes the following morning that the storm had let up. The sun was shining, the light breaking through the gaps in the windowpanes, casting long, yellow slivers on the bedspread.

Beside him, Wolfram stirred in his sleep, and the patterns of sunlight on his coverlet shifted along with him. Yuuri watched him with affection. He could no longer recall when exactly he had become totally okay with this sleeping arrangement. He just knew that he was used to having Wolfram with him every night by now, that it felt weird to not have the boy around anymore. That unwelcome lump at the other side of the bed had oddly become his source of comfort during those cold, damp nights in Blood Pledge Castle.

And occasionally, on Earth too.

Yuuri reached out to shake the sleeping boy's shoulder. As expected, Wolfram did not even budge. Yuuri smiled, his hand straying towards the boy's hair, ruffling it gently. Then his smile faded. What on earth was he doing?

"YUURI! WOLFRAM!"

Yuuri jumped in place, startled as Greta bounded into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. He should really lock that door from now on. That thought only made him blush furiously, as several less-than-innocent scenarios involving him and Wolfram inside a locked room popped inside his head.

Wolfram awoke with a groan. "Greta…" he said. "Please don't do that…"

Greta did not seem to hear him. "It's not raining anymore!"

Wolfram turned a bleary eye towards the window. "I could see that…"

"Let's go out!"

"It's early morning, Greta…"

"Let's go out, please? Yuuri?"

Wolfram raised his hands in surrender, waving one in Yuuri's direction, as if to say that it was his decision. Yuuri said, "Er…maybe we should go. This is what we came here for, right?"

"I guess so…" Wolfram yawned, getting up. "I better get ready then…"

"Yes!" Greta cheered loudly. "You should get ready too, Yuuri!"

"Er…" Yuuri hesitated. Wolfram was making his way to the bathroom right now, obviously to take a shower. He had taken a bath with his fiancé before, but that was in Blood Pledge Castle, where the tub was roughly the length of a football field. There was a lot of space to wade around and avoid bumping into a particular naked someone. But in their regular, Earth bathroom, the chances of colliding with a nude fire Mazoku was significantly higher than usual—

Yuuri shot down the idea before it could conjure a slew of forbidden images from the recesses of his hyperactive imagination.

"—and we could finally go to that place where they have dolphins!" chirped Greta enthusiastically. "This is exciting!"

"Yeah…exciting," said Yuuri, trying – but failing – to match his daughter's energy level. "Greta…could you go and see if mom has breakfast ready?"

"Okay. But you guys should be ready when I come get you!" With that final warning, the girl bounced out of the room.

Yuuri sighed and got out of bed too. Suddenly, he was very, very thankful that they had another bathroom downstairs.

Water World was their very first destination, which was thankfully open despite the ongoing cleaning-up operations necessitated by the storm the day before.

Having seen the park's displays of various ocean and freshwater species of plant and animal life before, Yuuri spent most of his time as a sort of tourist guide cum bodyguard. With their features, his two companions – Wolfram especially – attracted a lot of attention from the other sightseers. Yuuri didn't mind the occasional curious soul who would approach Wolfram and politely ask from which country he came from. What annoyed him was the more rude and unconventional individuals who openly flirted with his fiancé right in front of his eyes.

Wolfram looked amused at all the attention he was receiving, which in turn, irritated Yuuri to no end. In his opinion, the boy could at least look displeased for being surrounded by all these admirers while in the company of the person he was engaged to. But far from it, Wolfram even looked…smug.

Yuuri fumed inwardly. That cheater!

And that was when he realized it. This was what Wolfram had always complained about him – how he was always surrounded by other people wherever they happened to be in the other world. The situation was reversed this time, and now it was Yuuri who was looking on in resentment as his fiancé's attention was diverted away from him by a couple of bystanders.

Now he understood the feeling.

Something of his dejection must have shown on his face, for Wolfram went back to sit by his side. "Hey," he said lightly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" was the first answer that Yuuri had intended to say, but halfway from his brain to his mouth, the word transformed into another thing entirely. "Cheater."

"Funny you should say that," Wolfram replied, giving Yuuri a sly look.

It took Yuuri a moment to realize the meaning behind the boy's words. His eyes widened with indignation. "You were doing all that on purpose!" he accused. "That's unfair!"

"I 'm not," Wolfram shot back. "First of all, I have no way of knowing that all these people would come up to talk to me. But now that they did, I was just…indulging myself."

"Indulging?" Yuuri repeated. "An engaged individual shouldn't be behaving like this, Wolf."

"Now that's unfair. How dare you acknowledge our engagement just when it's convenient for you."

"I—"

Wolfram cut him short. "Save it. Greta's coming."

Their daughter did come, hands full with various sweets, parcels, and souvenirs. She was evidently having the time of her life. "Are the dolphins coming out now?"

"Y-yes," Yuuri replied, plastering a smile on his face. "The show's about to start…"

Greta squealed in delight.

"You're not going to eat all of that, are you Greta?" asked Wolfram doubtfully, taking some of the sweets from his daughter's overloaded hands.

"Some are for you," said Greta, beaming at them.

"You did pay for these, didn't you?" asked Yuuri, suddenly nervous. He didn't remember giving his daughter any money. Common sense told him that cash in the hands of a little girl was as dangerous as a gun in the hands of a livid drunk.

"Wolfram gave me money," answered Greta.

Yuuri glanced back at his fiancé. "And where did you get the money?"

"Your mother," replied Wolfram simply. "She thought I might need it."

"And why on earth did you give it to Greta?"

"Because I didn't need it."

Yuuri let out an exasperated sigh. Having grown up surrounded by the vast Bielefeld fortune, Wolfram had a rather lax attitude towards money, which was something that could potentially cause a lot of friction in their relationship especially when they're already married.

Married. Great, now he was thinking of that already when he hadn't even told Wolfram how he truly felt about him. Sure he had dropped hints here and there, and he had hoped that his actions would somehow tell his fiancé what he couldn't verbally express, but now that Yuuri thought about it, maybe those still weren't enough.

"Yuuri! The dolphins!" Greta's excited voice roused him from his thoughts.

"G-great," he said, clapping along with his daughter as the trained water mammals broke the surface of the pool and started jumping through their trainers' hoops.

Yuuri had no chance to talk to Wolfram after that, as even the boy was very much engrossed in the dolphins' act. Dolphins were considered wild, ferocious animals in the other world, and the fact that they were trained to dance and do cutesy tricks for the public could indeed appear to be very impressive.

Yuuri tried to imagine his companions' wonder by superimposing a shark's image for each of the dolphins that jumped up to do the trainers' bidding. It worked for the most part, and for the first few minutes, he was able to enjoy the show again. But more than the show, Yuuri actually liked the feeling of being in the same bench as Wolfram, with Greta between them, doing something as ordinary as this.

For a moment there, they were a family, and that made Yuuri smile in contentment.

But the show ended much too quickly for Yuuri's liking. As they trudged down the bleachers along with the other spectators, he turned back to cast one last glance at his fiancé, silently wondering how he could possibly gain the courage to tell this impulsive, hot-tempered, sharp-tongued demon that he was in love with him.

But as the crowd thinned down, Yuuri realized with concern that the said impulsive, hot-tempered, sharp-tongued demon was no longer behind them.

"Hey, where's Wolfram?" Greta asked.

Yuuri swiveled around, completing an entire three hundred sixty degree turn before finally accepting that Wolfram was missing.

His heart thumped wildly.

Oh no.

Wolfram stood at the corner of the park, eyeing everything distrustfully. He had lost Yuuri and Greta in the crowd, and when he tried to get back to them, he found to his chagrin that he didn't have any clue how to get back to the dolphin enclosure. He had been walking around for about an hour now and still he hadn't the slightest inkling where he was right now.

To make things worse, he couldn't read any of the strange symbols around him. Anissina should perhaps consider inventing a device that would also enable them to understand this world's written language. He should really drop her a line when he gets back to the castle.

If he ever gets back at all.

Wolfram scowled at himself. He was thinking so pessimistically about his predicament. Sure, he was lost, but he would soon find his way back to Yuuri. Besides, his fiancé must be looking for him right now.

He better be, Wolfram thought in infuriation. That wimp should be frantically searching every nook and cranny of this damned place just to find him.

"Hey mister! Do you want one?"

A cheerful-looking guy clutching a bunch of colored parchments approached him. He was dressed like most of the people Wolfram had passed by that day – a sort of black and white ensemble with a weirdly-shaped cravat around his neck.

"It's my boss's exhibit," the stranger explained, pointing towards a steel and concrete building in the distance. "At the Museum of Modern Art. Right over there."

"Museum?" Wolfram asked, taking a cautious step back.

"Here." The man waved one of the parchments in his face. "Come and take a look."

Wolfram could not read the characters emblazoned in the glossy paper, but then the pictures made him stop. These were – he squinted at the small images – paintings. One in particular caught his eye. It was of a young man standing beside a cliff overlooking the ocean. The subject's back was half-turned against the viewer so that only one side of his face could be seen. He looked like he was waiting for someone, or watching someone go, or wondering whether he ought to jump down into the treacherous waters below.

The entire scene radiated with a certain tenor of sadness and indecisiveness and gloom that Wolfram felt immediately drawn.

The strange man looked pleased at his reaction. He said, "That's a self-portrait. If you want to see Kei-san's other works, you should really go to the museum."

"Kei?" Wolfram echoed. "Is he an artist?"

"Yes, of course. And a very good one." The man's enthusiasm dampened slightly. "He'd be great if he'd just believe in himself a little." He gave a start, seemingly coming to his senses. "Er, forget I said that. Just come to the second floor if you're interested!"

Wolfram watched the strange man go. After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged and started off for the building at the center of the park.

"You lost him? What do you mean you lost him?"

His mother's voice grated annoyingly in his ears. Yuuri held the cell phone at arm's length, allowing his mother to rant about his carelessness for a few minutes before finally cutting in.

"I lost him in the crowd, mom," Yuuri explained. "I just want to find him okay?"

Unmindful of his feelings, his mother launched once again into a passionate speech. "That's what you get for ignoring Wolf-chan for so long! Now you have to deal with his disappearance and be sad and lonely because you'll finally realize how much you—"

"Mom!" Yuuri interrupted. "Wolfram has not disappeared. We just lost him in the crowd! And we will see him again okay? I just need to find him, so help me out here."

A huff. "Fine. Have you tried calling him?"

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "If he had a phone with him, I would've done so a long while ago—!"

"He has a phone with him," said his mother crossly. "I lent him mine this morning. I gave him some money too so that he could find his way if he ever gets separated—"

"Why are you telling me this now?" Yuuri howled.

"You didn't ask—"

Without waiting for the rest of his mother's statement, Yuuri punched the end call button and dialed another number.

The phone rang endlessly, eventually going to voice mail. Yuuri dialed again, crossing his fingers that Wolfram would have the sense to figure out which button to push to answer a call. Wait, did his mother even teach Wolf how to operate the phone?

Yuuri hoped so. He waited, tapping his foot impatiently at the sixth ring. And then finally, at the eighth, Wolfram answered.

Kei had not seen these many people before, particularly not in one of his art exhibits. His assistant had excitedly told him that the place was swamped but Kei dared not believe until he saw it with his own eyes. And now that he was standing there, surrounded by dozens of potential buyers, being stared at by hundreds of admiring eyes, Kei's heart soared with pride.

He was finally going to make it! He was finally going to establish himself as a serious artist – one who will be famous because of his talent and not because of his handsome face…

And then it hit him. The people were all flocking around him, not his paintings. He also noticed just then that most of the bodies who filled the art gallery into capacity were females – young, giggling, simpering females of all shapes and sizes, all gazing at him with similar lascivious expressions. Kei's heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach.

'I told you so.' His father's voice rang nastily in his ears. 'They like that pretty face of yours, not your work. I told you to give this up.'

Kei smiled bitterly. Yes, he knew he was attractive; a lot of people had told him so. But he sure as hell did not ask to be venerated because of that! He only wanted to be recognized for his talent…his skills…

'Skills do not matter,' the same voice intoned. 'As long as you look good.'

Feigning a non-existent headache, Kei excused himself from his throng of admirers. There was a chorus of disappointed girlish sighs, but he waved them off, plastering a winning smile onto his face for courtesy's sake. He made his way into the bathroom, intending to lock himself in a cubicle for the whole afternoon until all the infuriating people have gone. Not exactly a grown-up way of dealing with things, but then, who cares? Kei just wanted to shut the world out.

He reached his destination, noting with satisfaction that the bathroom was nearly empty, save for a single boy over by the sink. Kei ignored him, letting himself in the nearest stall, closing the door with a snap. He sat down, exhausted.

And then the expletives that were at the tip of his tongue burst out of his lips. He could just imagine the people out in the gallery, milling around, perhaps looking for him, barely glancing at his paintings…

He had worked on those pieces for nights on end! He hardly ever slept, damn it! Why couldn't they see that at all?

RING!

Kei gave a start, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It must be his assistant, probably wondering where he had run off to. But the phone's screen was blank. Kei realized that the sound was emanating from outside the cubicle.

RING! RING! RING!

Kei tried to shut the sound from his mind, irritated at the ringing phone's owner for ignoring the call.

RING! RING! RING! RING!

That's it. Kei burst out from his stall, raring to lash out at the unfortunate soul who was, intentionally or not, ruining his quiet moment.

"Just answer the damn ph—!"

Kei stopped, blinking at the scene that met his eyes. The boy he had passed by earlier was still standing by the sink, staring at a small rectangular thing on top of the tiled surface – the cellular phone that was making all the noise. The boy was regarding it with hostility, as if it was something alive and dangerous that would attack at the slightest provocation.

Just as Kei was wondering what to make of the situation, the phone stopped ringing. The boy lifted one pale finger to cautiously prod the now-silent device. Kei felt his eyebrows shoot up way above his hairline in bemusement.

"What do you think are you doing?"

Startled, the boy turned to him, green eyes blinking in surprise. Kei stared, and a single word flitted through his mind.

Beautiful…

The boy was blond and pale, with striking green eyes that seemed to shimmer slightly, like the gems that they resemble. Obviously a foreigner. American? Perhaps not. European…?

"Er…hello…" Kei said uncertainly, not knowing if the boy could understand him. "…You…Are you…er…"

RING!

The phone rang once more, cutting through the awkwardness in sharp, intermittent bursts. Kei observed the boy's reaction with interest. The latter spared the device with a look of disgust that did nothing to lessen his beauty. The reaction on his face was even strangely…cute.

People often said that he had a striking face, but Kei felt that he was nothing – nothing when compared to this guy…

"Shouldn't you answer that?" Kei asked after a moment. "It might be urgent…"

The boy turned to him, and Kei had to wonder whether the former spoke any Japanese. He was temporarily stymied when the boy answered fluently, "How exactly do I answer that…that thing?"

"Oh…" Kei said, taken aback by his discovery that this foreign-looking boy could speak his native language so effortlessly and by the realization that the same boy did not know how to use a cellular phone.

"How?" the boy repeated impatiently.

"Er…for starters, you have to hold it," Kei replied, feeling odd that he had to explain the use of a very common communication device to somebody who did not appear to belong to a phone-less generation. The boy looked relatively young – eighteen or nineteen perhaps. "And then, you have to press the 'answer' button…"

"Okay…" Not without hesitation, the boy picked up the phone, holding it gingerly with one hand. He stared at the buttons in utter perplexity.

Kei said helpfully, "It's the green one…"

He watched the boy obey his instruction, and after a second, a voice exploded from the device.

"Hello? Hello? Wolf, are you there? Wolfram!"

Wolfram. So that's the boy's name. Most probably European. Russian? German?

"WOLF! ARE YOU THERE?"

"OF COURSE I'M HERE, YOU WIMP!" the boy called Wolfram barked at the phone, holding it at arm's length. "AND YOU BETTER HAVE A VERY GOOD EXPLANATION FOR LEAVING ME BEHIND—!"

"I DID NOT LEAVE YOU BEHIND!" the voice at the other end of the line bellowed indignantly. "YOU DISAPPEARED ON YOUR OWN!"

"I DID NOT!"

"FINE! FINE! Where are you? We'll go get you."

"I'm at the museum. And speak up, wimp. I can't hear you." Wolfram turned to Kei. "Why can't I hear him?"

"What do you mean you can't? Who are you talking to? Who else is there? HELLO—?"

Kei pointed at the phone in the boy's hand. "You have to bring that to your ears."

The boy obeyed. "Okay wimp—" He stopped, frowning. "Oi, wimp! Are you there? Yuuri!"

Kei could already deduce what had happened. The phone's batteries must have been drained already, and true enough, when the boy put down the device, the screen was blank.

"Your batteries must be dead," Kei explained to the bewildered boy. "You'd have to recharge."

"Recharge?" the other repeated. "What do you mean recharge?"

Kei blinked. "Er…renewing the batteries?" The boy still looked lost, so he went on, "With a charger? Plugged into an electrical outlet?"

"I don't understand."

"Wow," Kei breathed, not knowing whether to be angry or amused. "Where are you from exactly?"

The boy's expression suddenly turned cautious. He crossed his arms defensively and muttered, "Not from around here."

"That much is obvious." Kei regarded the boy curiously. "You're lost aren't you?" He received a curt nod and a scowl in response, and he smiled despite himself. "Come on then. Let's find your way back."

It did not take long for Kei to realize that the strange boy he had decided to assist was a painter too. The revelation came as they descended to the first level on their way out of the museum, passing by some of his own works on display.

Wolfram – who had at least trusted him now with his name – stopped by a painting. It was one of the earliest ones Kei had made – that of a young version of himself standing by a cliff. He had painted that in memory of the day his mother left, as a sort of therapeutic release from all the emotions he had pent-up from that event.

Ironically, it was that painting that got him noticed by some traveling art enthusiasts. The same painting that got him a scholarship to an exclusive art school. The same painting that finally gave him an opportunity to leave his old life behind – to leave his father behind.

"You like that?" Kei asked his companion. "The artist would be happy to at least sell something that someone actually liked."

Wolfram glanced at him. "It's a bit crude, but I like the colors. What did you use in here? Back in my – er – country, we use derivatives from bearbe—er—animal excrements to paint—"

Kei could not decide which to react on first. The boy's quick assumption that he made the paintings? The reference to his country, wherever that is? Or the odd mention of animal waste as a paint material?

Finally, he decided to go about it in reverse order. "Er…excrements?"

"It's a special form of paint."

"Okay…" Kei remarked, making a mental note to check on that fact later on. "And where are you from again?"

"From another w—country," answered the boy evasively. "But my fiancé is from here. We were together just a while back, but we got separated."

"Oh," Kei commented, distracted. "You're engaged?"

"You look surprised."

"Because you look too young to be thinking about marriage," he answered honestly.

"I'm not young. I'm eighty—er—eighteen."

Kei smiled. "Eighteen is young."

Wolfram did not answer, and they strode past the remaining paintings in silence. A few steps away, Kei remembered his last question.

"By the way, what made you think that I did that painting?"

Wolfram said simply, "The boy in the painting was you."

"You think so?"

"A man outside said that it was a self-portrait." The boy gestured to the other paintings. "These are all your works." A pause. "They're…interesting."

Kei said wryly, "You can tell me that it's bad. I won't take it against you."

Wolfram smiled. "The man also said that that you're a very good artist, but that you just don't have enough confidence in yourself."

"Hah, I'd like to know who that man is."

"That's him. Behind you."

Kei turned, caught a glimpse of the person Wolfram was referring to, and immediately grabbed his companion's hand and darted for the door.

"What are you doing—?"

"That's Pierre, my assistant," Kei explained hurriedly. "I'd rather not be seen by him right now."

They made their way out of the museum, walking briskly without stopping to avoid bumping into anyone familiar. At long last, when they reached the streets, Kei told his companion, "Sorry about that. Just wanted to…er…"

"Get away," Wolfram supplied in understanding.

"Right. So…er…I guess we need to find your way back to…er…where did you last see your…er…"

"Fiancé," Wolfram said. "We were watching dolphins…"

"Okay, so we're looking for a sort of…amusement park," said Kei. "I think I remember seeing one…over…" He looked around, doing a full circle but failing to recognize any landmarks.

Wolfram watched his reaction, a bit exasperated but also amused. "You don't have any idea where we are, do you?"

"No, I know where we are. It's my first time here but I know my way around. We're—"

"—lost," Wolfram finished.

Kei sighed heavily before finally admitting, "Yep…we're totally lost."

To be continued

A/N: This was intended to be a one-shot, but I can't seem to end it the way I wanted to. I will have to get back to this in order to wrap everything up. In the meantime, I'm going back to my previous preoccupation and finish my other story. :)

Edited: 04/06/2011.