Games Demons Play

by: gkeeper91

Disclaimer: This story is based on the anime show Kyou Kara Maou, which in turn is based from the series of light novels created by Tomo Takabayashi. Only the ideas and the original characters contained within this story are the property of the author.

Game: Sardines is a variation of hide and seek, where one person hides from the rest, leaving all the other players to look for him/her. Players who find the person hiding will have to join him/her, even if they get packed all together in a single cramped space – like sardines :). The last player who gets to the hiding place loses.

Special thanks are due to Aella Antiope for helping me through a disastrous bout of mental block, and for all the input/corrections/suggestions that dramatically improved this story. Thanks for beta-reading! :)

Game 3: Sardines

The moment they got out of the water, Yuuri immediately felt lightheaded. He shook off the feeling though, attributing it to their very brief submersion in water, as all three of them – him, Wolfram, and Greta – journeyed from Earth and back to Blood Pledge Castle. But as he stepped out of the pool that they had materialized in, he felt himself slipping—

"Yuuri!"

He heard Wolfram's voice as though it were emanating from somewhere far away. Yuuri blinked, finding his vision obscured completely by a portion of Wolfram's sweater. He must have lost his balance, and Wolfram must have caught him right before he fell.

"Yuuri?" Wolfram sounded alarmed now, his grip tightening on Yuuri's shoulders. Yuuri tried to respond to reassure the boy, but for some reason, his throat felt prickly…parched…It did not help that the ground appeared to be moving, the pavement seeming to sway slightly beneath his feet.

"Hey, wimp…"

"I'm fine," Yuuri finally managed to say, although his voice sounded a bit off to his ears. He sneezed and immediately after, he felt a wet hand against his forehead.

Then Wolfram said, "You're feverish. How in Shinou's name did you manage to get sick all of a sudden?"

Yuuri suddenly felt defensive and he looked up to scowl at his fiancé. "It was your fault. I had to go running in the rain just to find you."

Wolfram frowned at him. "You didn't have to do that."

"I shouldn't have gone looking for you?" he asked, brushing a strand of wet hair out of his eyes. He was freezing, the cold starting to seep into his bones.

"You shouldn't have gotten sick just because of me."

"It's just a slight fever, Wolfram," Yuuri said, torn between exasperation and amusement. "Don't make such a big deal out of it."

"I'm not, but everyone's going to once they find out that you're running a fever, and I'm going to get blamed for not guarding you well enough—"

"Hey!" Yuuri complained, offended at the suggestion that he wasn't capable of taking care of himself, annoyed at the idea that Wolfram was only worried about what others might say about his capacity as Yuuri's self-proclaimed protector. "I don't need you to look after me!"

A shadow came over Wolfram's face. He retrieved his hands from Yuuri's shoulders and took a step back. "I know that. You don't need to rub it in."

"What?" Yuuri bit out, becoming increasingly irritated. His head was thrumming unpleasantly, as though a hundred bees were swarming inside, all trying to force their way out of his skull. At the moment, all he wanted to do was get into dry clothes, hop into his bed, and sleep.

"You don't need me," said Wolfram with a sudden sour note in his voice, "but you need Conrad and Gunter and everyone else."

"What?" Yuuri repeated. If he were feeling better, he would have caught a whiff of the other boy's jealousy and would have immediately understood the sudden shift in the latter's mood. But all he could feel right then was annoyance at Wolfram's ridiculous ranting. "What are you talking about?"

Wolfram crossed his arms. "You know what I mean. You don't need me. You just said so yourself."

Yuuri groaned. "That's not what I meant! Come on! You're being irrational!"

Wolfram was about to hurl a response at him, but he was cut off by Conrad and Gunter's arrival on the scene. The two men paused for a second to take in the sight in front of them before running hastily to Yuuri's side.

"What's going on here?" Conrad asked, examining Yuuri's face. "Are you feeling well, Heika?"

"You look pale, Heika," Gunter put in, wasting no time to hover around his king. "Are you hurt—?"

"Yuuri's sick," Greta piped up. Yuuri glanced at his daughter in confusion; he had forgotten for a moment that she was there with them.

"I shall summon Gisela," Gunter said promptly, while Conrad placed a supporting hand on Yuuri's elbow, ready to catch him should he fall.

Wolfram shook his head and gave Yuuri a look that plainly said 'I told you so'.

Yuuri opened his mouth to say that calling for Gisela was unnecessary, but knowing Gunter, he knew it was a lost cause. The man would summon a healer despite Yuuri's protests, so he decided to keep quiet and allow Conrad to steer him out of the…the…

Where did they turn up this time? Yuuri couldn't remember. He coughed, and almost instantly, he felt dizzy. He tottered on the spot and would have fallen face first if Conrad hadn't been supporting his weight.

"Yuuri!"

Somebody else cried his name, but it was Wolfram's voice that registered in his ears. Yuuri didn't know if it was because Wolf yelled the loudest, or because he was paying more attention to the boy than he was with the others. He couldn't tell.

Yuuri attempted to regain his balance, but as soon as he straightened up, he felt more lightheaded than ever. Someone placed a hand under his chin, lifting his face up, but Yuuri couldn't see anything clearly. A blackness was edging steadily across his vision, and although he tried to fight it, he couldn't find enough strength to continue resisting.

A second later, he collapsed, surrendering into the tempting grip of unconsciousness.

Kei listened to the incessant pattering of the rain against the window and once again wondered how he had gotten himself into this situation. This was certainly not what he expected when he first set foot in the Shibuya household. Though he was thankful to Shori-san's family for giving him shelter in the midst of this storm, Kei privately thought that he would rather be outside than push through with what he was currently doing.

Or – to be more exact – attempting to do.

Kei placed his pencil down with a defeated sigh. He had finished the sketch of the head, although he deliberately went as slowly as he could in an attempt to delay everything from progressing too quickly. But unfortunately for him, there was nothing more to do but draw the remaining parts of his model's body and complete the picture. Even if it was a picture that he wasn't entirely used to doing. Even if it was something that he'd rather not finish.

But Miko-san – his hostess – had been so incredibly adamant about doing this that Kei had been unable to refuse her. Not even Kei's self-conscious admission that he was terrible at nude paintings could dampen her desire to have her body – to use the term she had used – "immortalized on canvas."

Kei could tell that Miko-san had been waiting for this opportunity the entire time. It wasn't hard to work out that she had this in mind the minute that Kei was introduced to her as a painter. The gleam in her eyes upon their very first meeting had been an ominous sign.

Now Kei found himself in quite an uncomfortable predicament. Because the storm still hadn't let up for the past day, his stay in the Shibuya household was inadvertently extended for an indefinite period. And because Shoma-san and his son, Shori, were out for goodness-knows-what-errand-they-could-possibly-have-in-the-middle-of-a-tropical-storm, Kei was left alone with the (in his opinion) worst possible person to be stuck with at the height of a storm:

A middle-aged housewife who wanted to be painted in her birthday suit.

"Kei-chan, should I take the rest of my clothes off?"

'How could she say that so casually?' Kei thought, wincing. He didn't have any particular problem with the naked human form. He just didn't like being forced to draw anything against his will. Especially by some…woman.

Kei could never understand women; he never did. Women were a strange race to him, falling into the same category as the mother who had abandoned him. Perhaps it was from some residual resentment with certain unfortunate events in his past, that Kei had never put much effort in deciphering what women wanted or needed. He had never seen much sense in trying.

"Kei-chan~" Miko-san called again in a sing-song voice, repeating her earlier question. Her hand was toying with the sash of her bathrobe, ready to pull the loosely-tied knot and – well – bare all.

Kei groaned internally, sure that he didn't want to continue. 'Please, oh please,' he thought, beseeching all the gods for something that would put an end to his suffering. Miko-san was a beautiful woman, quite so for her age, but…well, Kei just wasn't happy with this.

To his relief, his prayer was answered. Before he could respond, the door opened and admitted a dripping-wet Shori. The man was trying to fit in a large rectangular parcel through the door and was having very little success with it. Shori stopped in mid-heave and finally noticed his barely-clothed mother sprawled on the sofa, and Kei behind the propped canvas, one hand frozen in mid-air.

Kei could almost see the cogs turning behind the thick rim of Shori's glasses. Denial came first, but underneath that was a small flicker of comprehension. "Mom…what…?"

"It's Mama, Sho-chan," Miko said cheerfully, and Kei had to admire her flippant attitude towards the situation. It seemed like nothing in the world could make her the least bit self-conscious.

In contrast, Shori was beyond horrified. A vein popped out somewhere on the man's forehead and before Kei realized what was happening, Shori began shouting at his mother at the top of his lungs.

"Mom!" Shori growled in frustration. "What did I tell you about doing weird things around Yoshida-san?"

"I'm not doing anything weird," said Miko-san, seemingly puzzled at his son's reaction. "I merely asked Kei-chan to paint me—"

"—naked!" Shori cut off angrily. "Come on!"

"And what is wrong with that exactly?"

Kei had borne witness to such types of confrontations before, so he lost interest in the fight before him after a while. Both mother and son would go at it for at least an hour more before eventually running out of steam. Miko-san would play the mother card; Shori-san would rebut with logic. But always, in the end, both would forget everything and find something else to do. Kei had learned to expect as much.

It was just another regular rainy day in the Shibuya household.

Kei slowly inched his way outside, closed the door softly, and sighed in resignation.

He needed to get out of this madhouse.

"Who gets a cold in the middle of summer?" Wolfram asked rhetorically. "Seriously, wimp."

After an hour of convincing everyone that he was feeling better, the others had finally left to give him time to rest. (Gunter had to be kicked out of the room, and Yuuri had Wolfram to thank for that.) Wolfram stayed behind of course, although he was proving to be very bad company at the moment.

"I'm not…a…wimp…" That response was ingrained so deeply in his subconscious that the words came out automatically. Yuuri tried to see past the large, pink, bear-shaped contraption – Anissina's Control-A-Person's-Body-Temperature-kun – that the inventor had strapped to his head, but found that he couldn't. He groaned in misery.

Gisela was away, so they had to turn to the castle's resident mad scientist for a possible cure to his escalating fever. Gunter and Wolfram had argued at great length about allowing Anissina to treat him, and with good reason. Everyone knew that dabbling with the inventor's creations was like flirting with death, but someone – Yuuri couldn't remember who – decided that Anissina was their best shot at treating their beloved king's symptoms before everything got worse.

It was just a fever, Yuuri privately fumed. The way everybody's been acting for the past hour, he could as well have cancer or any other life-threatening disease. Not that Yuuri minded all the displays of concern, but the different ways they were shown began to get on his nerves after some time.

Conrad was calm as always, taking a spot in the background as everyone else puttered about the bed. Once in a while, Conrad would meet Yuuri's eyes and return Yuuri's pleading gaze with a noncommittal smile. It was clear that his godfather found the entire situation entertaining.

Gunter was at the other end of the spectrum. The man was in full panic mode, giving everyone the erroneous impression that he was currently attending a dying man's bedside. Yuuri would have loved to send him away, but he didn't have the nerve to ask the man to leave. It was Wolfram who eventually forced Gunter out of the room. Yuuri thought that it must be the man's suggestion to help Yuuri out of his clothes that made his fiancé react that way.

And then there was Wolfram. Yuuri was fast realizing that the boy had the worst bedside manner among everybody in the castle – the whole kingdom even. Wolfram just stood in a corner, regarding everything with undisguised irritation, keeping up a stream of comments about how absurd it was that Yuuri got sick. Yuuri felt a little disheartened at his fiancé's reactions. He expected a little more display of affection from Wolfram in this type of situation.

"Hey, are you still alive, wimp?" came Wolfram's voice again. He sounded annoyed.

Yuuri shifted on the spot and tried not to feel so disappointed. Of course he had never been in a relationship before, and there was a slim chance that he was expecting all the wrong things but…wasn't one supposed to feel at least a wee bit anxious when one's fiancé was sick?

"Hey, Yuuri?" From the corner of his eyes, Yuuri could just see Wolfram seated on the chaise nearby, already clad in his military uniform. The boy was fiddling with his boots, looking so concerned about getting his appearance right more than anything else. He took his eyes off his footwear just long enough to give Yuuri an impatient glance.

Maybe he expected a little bit too much, Yuuri mused. He had only imagined being with a girl, and Wolfram was most definitely not one and therefore not at all inclined to be as demonstrative as the members of the fairer sex. Maybe he should take that into consideration. But still, Yuuri thought, a little compassion would be nice…

"It's rude not to answer, wimp," Wolfram said, a frown in his voice. Yuuri heard the thump of the boy's boots against the pavement as the latter moved to stand beside the headboard. "Wimp?" Wolfram waved one hand inches away from Yuuri's face and repeated in a louder voice, "Wimp—!"

Without even meaning to, Yuuri swatted the hand away and blurted out, "I'm not a wimp! Stop calling me that!"

Silence. Wolfram seemed to reel back with surprise, but he quickly caught himself. He narrowed his eyes at Yuuri. "What—?"

Yuuri sat up, taking that ridiculous device off his head, ignoring the pain that followed. "Can you just stop, please?"

"What? What are you doin—?"

"I don't need this," Yuuri replied brashly. "I'm fine now, so could you just stop taunting me?"

Wolfram looked confused. "But I'm not—"

"Yes you are!" Yuuri exclaimed, all his frustrations boiling over. "Okay, I'm not as strong as you are. I get sick easily. You've made your point, so stop flinging that into my face!"

"I'm not!" Wolfram replied. "What made you think—?"

"Because you keep calling me names!"

"I call you a wimp all the time! Why is this any different?"

Fair question. Yuuri subsided a bit. "Because I'm sick."

Wolfram's eyebrow arched up. "And?"

Yuuri deflated, recognizing how whiny he must have sounded. He tried his best to explain. "When my dad gets sick – or any of us actually – my mom would always do something special, you know? She'd always treat us more…warmly. More…tenderly. I…I was kinda expecting…well…" He slumped back to the bed with an unhappy sigh, avoiding Wolfram's eyes. "Ah, just forget it."

But he had said enough to make Wolfram understand. An awkward silence followed his outburst, and Yuuri was soon reduced to examining the tassels hanging at the edges of the canopy, as if doing so would make the atmosphere less uncomfortable.

Quietly, Wolfram sat down next to him, picking up Anissina's discarded invention and toying with it absently. After a moment, he said, "Mother does the same for me…when she's around. Conrad and Gwendal did too…when I was younger."

"Oh," Yuuri said. As inadequate as his experience was with regard to being in a relationship, he suddenly remembered that Wolfram's exposure with such matters was just as limited – less even, given his upbringing. Seeing his parents together, Yuuri had at least a fair idea how people in a relationship treat one another. He doubted whether his fiancé had a lot of role models to look up to, what with Lady Cheri's speed in changing romantic partners, Gwendal's perpetually celibate state, and Conrad's…

Wait a second. Had Conrad ever been involved with anyone? Yuuri was about to ask the brooding boy beside him, but then decided that he was veering off topic.

"I'm not good at this," Wolfram eventually said, breaking the silence. "I mean, I don't even know that I should behave in a certain manner in a particular type of situation…like now. I don't know the rules."

Idiot, Yuuri scolded himself, taking in the other boy's expression, Now you made him unhappy. That was something that he always tried to avoid, particularly because an unhappy Wolfram was a dangerous Wolfram, and Yuuri wasn't stupid to mess with someone who could toast him into a crisp in a second. Not that his fiancé would deliberately harm him, but Yuuri knew fully well that there were some parts of him that Wolfram would have no qualms in scorching – like his eyebrows, for instance. At any rate, Yuuri wasn't too keen on losing any hair in his body in that manner.

But more than that, Yuuri genuinely wanted things to work out between them. He never thought that he had it in him to want this relationship so badly, but since he decided that he did, maybe it was time to take a few more steps.

Yuuri sat back up, positioning himself so that he was now seated right beside Wolfram. In an attempt to make things better, he put in, "Should there be rules? I mean, shouldn't we just…act normally and then take it from there?"

The other boy shrugged. "If you're fine with it. You're the one who has all these expectations."

"Fair enough," said Yuuri, "but I'm sure you must have some too? Expectations, I mean."

"Nothing much, really," Wolfram answered rather dispassionately, glancing at him askance. "Of course I expect you to stop flirting with anything that moves—"

"I don't flirt—!" Yuuri started heatedly, but Wolfram cut him off with a disdainful wave of the hand.

"Whatever. But like I said, I don't really expect anything else to change. I can't really keep you to myself now, can I?"

Yuuri blinked at the boy's candidness, and he was suddenly reminded of the brief spat they had this morning, when they had just arrived from Earth. He knew that Wolfram could be incredibly possessive, but this was the first time that he did not feel cowed at the thought. He sighed in frustration. "I did tell you that I love you…were you even listening?"

"I was," Wolfram said softly. "But…nothing's really changed, right? We don't treat each other any differently from before…"

A light seemed to flash inside his head, and despite himself, Yuuri broke into a smile. All this time, he had been expecting for some sort of special treatment from his fiancé, but it would appear as if Wolfram had also been waiting for the same thing from him.

"What's so funny?" Wolfram asked after a while, glowering at him.

"Us," Yuuri replied quickly, forestalling all further arguments. "We're both being stupid. Tell you what, why don't we just start now?"

"Start what?"

"Acting like a couple," Yuuri said simply, gently taking one of Wolfram's hands in his own. "Being a couple."

Wolfram regarded him skeptically. "You're still sick, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I know what I'm saying," he answered lightly. "And you can forget what I said earlier. I shouldn't force you into being extra nice just because I'm sick…"

Wolfram colored a little bit. "Well, about that…I think you might have a point."

There was a dull thud as Anissina's now-unneeded contraption fell onto the floor and rolled away from them. Wolfram had twisted to face him, pulling him into what would be their first embrace as a couple. A few seconds passed before Yuuri gained enough sense to return the gesture. A bit surprising, Yuuri thought, but also way overdue.

Wolfram started squirming uncomfortably after a few seconds. Worried that he might be doing something wrong, Yuuri asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," came the self-conscious response. "You're just so…hot."

"Am I now?" Yuuri said, laughing. He knew that Wolfram was referring to his temperature, but he found it amusing that his fiancé didn't have any inkling that the last word he had so innocently used had another meaning on Earth. He couldn't help but reply with, "I think you are too."

Wolfram was predictably uncomprehending. "What?"

Yuuri leaned back, laughing. Then impulsively, he leaned forward and gave his adorably-mystified fiancé a peck on the cheek. Wolfram flushed, but his expression quickly shifted from embarrassment into something else entirely – a look of determination that indicated quite clearly that he was not about to be outdone.

He gave Yuuri a resolute glare. "Surely that isn't your idea of our first kiss?"

Yuuri's eyes widened at that, and before he could react, Wolfram made his move and kissed him full in the mouth. Again, it took Yuuri a few beats to get his act together, but when he finally did, he found himself reciprocating as best as his limited experience allowed.

It was all a bit unexpected, but again it was – in Yuuri's opinion – long overdue.

Shori pulled him aside some minutes later. Worried that this might have something to do with his aborted painting session with Miko-san, Kei started to explain, "Shori-san. Look, I was just—"

"I know," said Shori evenly, although there was still a hint of irritation in his voice. "I overreacted. I'm sorry."

Kei blinked, all intended explanations coming to a halt at the tip of his tongue. "Oh, okay…"

"Anyway, Bob called earlier. He can't wait for the storm to clear, so he just asked me to pick up that thing that he wanted you to work on…"

Shori beckoned to him and led him back to the room. Kei's painting materials were still scattered by the coffee table, and out of embarrassment, he moved to shove everything back into his bag. Shori stopped him before he could step away.

"Don't mind the mess," said Shori. "I have something to show you. I need to explain what Bob needs from you before I forget anything."

Kei obeyed with a nod, turning a curious eye towards the large parcel that Shori had brought with him earlier. The latter tore the packaging open with some difficulty, exposing a…framed canvas.

Kei stared. It was a painting. Two paintings to be exact.

Unconsciously, Kei approached, barely stopping himself from touching the painted surface. Shori moved the frames and propped them back against the wall, affording them both a better view.

Two pairs of eyes stared at them from the canvas – one a light blue, like a cloudless sky on a summer morning, and the other a gleaming black, like a patch of the heavens during the darkest of nights. Two men who were as different as two people could be. One was dark-haired, with sharp, intelligent eyes and a tranquil smile. The other was blond and fair and majestic and…so achingly familiar.

Kei took a step forward, mesmerized, and all at once, several questions burst off inside him. Who made these portraits? Who were the subjects? Why were they both wearing such antiquated clothing? And…

Kei frowned. He had been so absorbed in examining the faces that he did not immediately notice that the paintings were damaged. He hissed in indignation as his eyes took in the long, diagonal knife-slashes that separated a part of the men's faces from the rest of their bodies. It was almost like a beheading of sorts.

Why was such a work of art defaced so violently?

Kei's brow creased slightly as he pulled away. He had gotten too close to the canvas and he caught a hint of something unpleasant, something…putrid. Was it the paint? But paint didn't smell like that. Kei thought it smelled quite like animal waste.

"Back in my country, we use derivatives from animal excrements to paint—"

Kei stopped again. Now where did that come from? He smiled and shook his head softly. No, he told himself, stop thinking about him. But as soon as he thought that, an image of a boy standing in the rain came to him so suddenly, overriding his senses with a cascade of emotions, the most prominent of which was regret.

Wolfram.

Even the name sounded like something that just came from a dream. Unreal. Imaginary. Like everything else that happened that day. Kei had never told anyone of that strange encounter, partly because he wasn't sure how much had been real, and partly because he wanted to keep that memory all to himself. He doubted whether he'd see Wolfram again, but at least he had that memory – as well as that painting he'd made – as tokens of remembrance.

"Bob wanted you to replicate these paintings."

With some difficulty, Kei disentangled himself from his thoughts and turned a questioning gaze to his companion. Shori elaborated, "As you can see, these were…er…damaged quite extensively. Restoring them proved to be tricky, so Bob decided to have them replicated instead. Someone told him about you, so, here we are."

The explanation did not make much sense to Kei. And besides, there were so many better painters in the world, let alone the country. Why pick him? He decided to ask, "Who are they?"

Shori hesitated. "Er…they're…very important people…from a far-away country. This is a gift for someone. It's…a very complicated story."

The last statement indicated dismissal, and it was clear that Kei wasn't supposed to ask any more questions. He shrugged, looked back at one of the paintings – that of the fair-haired, blue-eyed man – and commented, "He looks like someone I know."

Shori snorted. "It's quite an ordinary face."

Kei silently disagreed. It was a face he had seen before, on a rainy day quite like this one, on the streets near an amusement park. The blond man could be Wolfram's older brother. He perked at the thought. Maybe, just maybe…

"I'll leave you to it then," Shori said. "When the rain stops, I could take you to a hotel instead. Bob gave me an exorbitant amount for your accommodation." He shook his head, clearly thinking that everything was such a waste of money. "Anyway, you can also stay here if you want – if you can still keep up with my mother, that is."

And Shori left him alone to think about that offer. Kei's thoughts however, were on a different matter entirely.

He stood silently before the paintings for a little while longer, frowning to himself. Then making up his mind, he ran up to the bedroom that he had been staying in, grabbed the canvas he had stowed in a corner, and raced back down. Unwrapping the smaller portrait he had made of Wolfram, Kei propped it next to the blond man's painting. He stood back to examine them.

Aside from the obvious disparity in the brush strokes, as well as the different eye colors, the paintings were eerily alike. Were the subjects related? Or was the uncanny resemblance just a coincidence? Shori said that the blond man was a very important person from a far-off country… Could it be Wolfram's country as well? But if it were, how did the entire Shibuya family factor into this?

Kei sighed. His speculations were getting him nowhere. He had half a mind to go after Shori and ask him some more questions, but halfway out the door, he wavered and stopped. How was he supposed to phrase his queries without sounding like a delusional individual – or worse, a fixated stalker? He took a deep breath and gathered his materials.

Give it up, Kei, he told himself. Just give it up.

Then, quieting the tumultuous churning of his own thoughts, Kei sat down and instead began to work.

"Who gets a cold in the middle of summer? Seriously, Wolf…"

Wolfram peered from underneath a bundle of blankets and gave his fiancé a venomous glare. He could have sworn that Yuuri had been waiting to throw that remark back at his face.

"Wimp," he muttered darkly.

Under Gisela's expert care, Yuuri had recovered quickly in just three days' time, but just after, Wolfram found himself suffering from the exact same symptoms. It was inevitable, Gisela had said, given that he shared a bed with Yuuri. Wolfram privately thought that it was the kissing that eventually did him in, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that.

"You'll get better," Yuuri said, joining him on the bed. "And you have to. There's that ball this weekend remember?"

It was to honor Shinou's victory in a battle from some long-forgotten age, but Wolfram had trouble remembering which one. "I'll be fine in no time, you'll see," he said haughtily. A cold wouldn't stop him from attending. He needed to guard Yuuri from all the predatory women who would surely be in abundance as soon as the party commences.

Yuuri's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Bet you won't beat my three days recovery period though."

Wolfram rolled his eyes. Why make everything into a contest? He asked crossly, "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with Gunter?"

Yuuri stared at him in mock-sorrow. "First, you complain that I spend too much time with everybody else. Now that I'm here, you try to send me away."

"I'm not," he huffed. "I just don't want him coming in here to drag you away and ruin my day."

"Er, about that…" Yuuri trailed off and scooted closer to his side, burrowing deep into the blankets. "Gunter might come here later. I think a lot of people will…if they manage to find me, that is."

Wolfram flushed, slightly distracted at his fiancé's proximity, but he did not fail to register the boy's last statement. He frowned and echoed, "They?"

"We're playing sardines," Yuuri explained. "It's like hide-and-seek, but instead of one person searching for the others, it's one person hiding from the rest. I'm hiding."

"Here?" Wolfram asked incredulously. "And what happens if they find you?"

"They'll have to join me and hide too," said the other boy simply. "The last one who finds me here loses."

"And just how many people are you playing with?"

"Er…quite a few."

"Yuuri!" Wolfram howled, not at all keen about the thought of sharing the bed with "quite a few" more people.

Yuuri winced and said sheepishly, "There's Murata, Gunter, Anissina, and Greta…"

"Only the five of you?" he asked suspiciously.

The other boy continued, "Yozak and Conrad sorta joined us somewhere in between, I think."

"You think?" Wolfram repeated, now horrified. It was starting to sound as if his fiancé was playing the game with half the occupants of the castle.

"And," Yuuri went on, "there's the three maids and Dacascos and some off-duty guards—"

"Get out," Wolfram snapped, not wanting to hear more. "Hide somewhere else."

"But Wolf…!"

Darn it. Yuuri was using that voice on him, the one that he secretly found quite charming. Wolfram was starting to melt, but the thought of having Gunter or Yozak or Dacascos in the same bed was incentive enough for him to keep arguing.

"Do you realize what you're asking me to be a part of? I don't want anybody else in this bed."

"Then would you like us to move to the closet?" Yuuri asked with a straight face.

Wolfram snorted. "Right. Stuck together inside a narrow space with twenty-odd other people. Just what the healer ordered."

"Well if we're careful and the others don't find us, then it would be just the two of us stuck inside a narrow space," his fiancé pointed out. "Think of the possibilities."

Wolfram was momentarily tempted at the thought, but he shook his head in the end. "Conrad will find us within an hour, and Yozak, in a heartbeat. I'm surprised neither of them have tracked you down by no—ahh!"

Wolfram jerked back as somebody suddenly hopped onto the bed. Yuuri mirrored his reaction, retreating until his back was flat against the headboard.

"Sorry 'bout that," said Yozak, beaming at them. And before either of them could speak, the man casually sauntered over to Yuuri's side, drawing the blankets over himself too. "But this is brilliant, Heika. Who would have ever thought of hiding in a bed?"

It was difficult to decipher whether Yozak was being sarcastic, but Wolfram was sure that the latter was making fun of them. "This isn't happening," he told himself, closing his eyes tightly, willing the image of the grinning spy to disappear.

"Come on, Wolf," said Yuuri in a placating tone. "This should be fun."

"I doubt that," he answered through clenched teeth.

"Well, if this bothers you that much," Yozak chimed in, "Heika and I could move to another hiding place." The man gave them a sly grin. "I know a very secret spot, Heika. Nobody would find us there, and it could be just you and me alone for hours…"

Wolfram felt himself going red at the thought. He glared at his fiancé. "Don't you dare…"

Yuuri actually smiled at him, looking for all the world as though Wolfram had just uttered something incredibly romantic. He also looked like he was beginning to enjoy himself immensely. Yuuri opened his mouth to speak, but another voice interrupted before he could get any word out.

"It isn't hide-and-seek if you're all being too noisy," chided Conrad, emerging from behind the gossamer curtains of the four-poster bed. "You shouldn't give away your location that easily."

Wolfram covered his eyes with one hand. "Oh no…"

"Hi Conrad," Yuuri said awkwardly.

"Good work, Captain," Yozak piped in, and it was hard not to miss the laughter in his voice. "You're only the second one here. Hop in!"

Conrad regarded them all with a good-natured smile. "So…where should I stay?"

Wolfram groaned wretchedly. It was hard to imagine that the game had just begun.

Out of all the things that he had done in his life, Yuuri thought that this would count as one of the weirdest. Not only was he playing a childish game with several grown-up people – with two decorated soldiers at that – but he was also sharing a bed with three of them right now.

He turned to his left. Conrad and Yozak lay side by side, both staring at the canopy with identical glazed expressions. Anissina – who was the third person to find them – had taken her spot at the farthest end, already asleep from the looks of it. To his right, Wolfram lay stiffly at the very edge of the bed, his arms knotted tightly around his torso. He hadn't moved for the past ten minutes, prompting Yuuri to check every now and then to see if he was still breathing. The boy seemed truly displeased by this, which was honestly not Yuuri's intention at all.

Convincing Gunter to let him take a break from all the preparations for the ball was no mean feat. But after Yuuri's suggestion of playing a game – this game in particular – his tutor's eyes had literally sparkled with what appeared to be anticipation and something else that he could not identify, and had readily agreed to start playing. Gunter insisted though, that Yuuri should be the one that everybody would have to look for.

Getting the players was a lot easier. With the exception of Gwendal – who had turned his nose up, disgusted at the suggestion – everybody else within the vicinity agreed to join the game. Yuuri of course, who had engineered everything particularly to get a free pass out of his duties and visit Wolfram, made a beeline for their bedroom. He thought that Wolfram would be happy to see him, but then he had completely forgotten that he would have a lot of people in tow – people moreover, that his fiancé was not so enthusiastic on seeing, much less sharing the bed with.

Yuuri sighed and reached out for the boy. "Hey Wolf…? You asleep?"

"Do I look like it?" Wolfram half-snarled at him.

"You're not mad about this, are you?"

"Do I look like it?" the boy repeated.

"Wolf…" Yuuri let out another sigh and said, "I'm sorry. I know you're sick, but I was worried…"

"You sure have a funny way of showing it," Wolfram commented wryly.

"I…I just…wanted to…" His voice dropped into a whisper, and he leaned closer so that only Wolfram could hear him. "I just wanted to…be with you today…"

Wolfram still did not turn to look at him, but the angry lines in his face smoothed out at that. A second passed and he finally unfastened his hands to take Yuuri's.

"Am I forgiven now?" he asked hopefully. When he did not receive an answer, he said, "I could call off the game if you want me to…"

Wolfram squeezed his hand tightly, but before he could reply, they all heard the door opening and closing. The boy stiffened once more, and Yuuri mentally cursed whoever it was who had to come ruin their moment of conciliation. He immediately subsided when the intruder came close enough to be seen.

It was Greta.

The girl's face lit up at her discovery. "Found you, Yuuri!" she cried. "Was I last?"

"Er…Greta…we're not play—"

He meant to say that they're not playing anymore, but Wolfram silenced him with a look. He then smiled at Greta and said, "You're fourth, Greta. Nice work." And to Yuuri's amazement, the boy extended his hand to beckon Greta to his side.

As their daughter snuggled to Wolfram's part of the bed, Yuuri caught his fiancé's eye and raised one eyebrow. The boy made a face and replied from the side of his mouth, "When Gunter comes, make sure he stays as far away as possible."

Yuuri chuckled and he would have chanced a kiss under cover of the blankets had someone not walked in on them right then.

"My, my, I thought I'd find you here. You really are so predictable, Shibuya."

Yuuri registered Murata's glinting glasses before he saw the rest of the boy's face. The sage was smirking, and there was something in his eyes that made Yuuri blush furiously. "If you'd really thought of that earlier," he muttered, "you should have been the first one here."

"Well," said Murata, "I figured I'd let some people go first. The more, the merrier and all that." His grin widened as he surveyed the occupants of the overcrowded bed. "Though, I wasn't really expecting to be in bed with this many people. This is a first for me."

"I hear you, Geika," Yozak answered cheerfully. "I mean, I could handle three, maybe four, but more than that…This is really something, right? Though we're not really doing anything…"

Murata chuckled. "You could use your imagination I guess…"

"Guess I'd have to settle for that. It's not like I can start anything here with someone like Heika on board…"

"Pity," said the sage. "Quite a shame to waste a good bed…"

"Especially this one. Hey, Heika, you do know that a bed isn't just for sleeping right?"

"Yozak," said Conrad warningly, "we have a child here…"

As if on cue, Greta raised her head and asked, "What are you all talking about? What other things do you do in a bed?"

Wolfram grumbled, "Okay, everyone should shut up now." And then more softly, he added, "Don't listen to them, Greta."

A whine. "But I want to know!"

Yozak said, voice quivering with laughter, "It's something that most of us here have done, Princess, except of course, your father."

Greta blinked. "Wolfram?"

"I was referring to Heika," the spy answered, "but that's a fair question. Have you done it before, Wolfram?"

"Yozak!" Wolfram said dangerously. "What part of 'shut up' do you not comprehend?"

"She wouldn't know what we're talking about anyway," Yozak said. "It's not as if the Princess knew what se—"

"YOZAK!" The snarl was accompanied by a short burst of flame that rose up with a hiss from Wolfram's palm, narrowly missing the canopy. It wasn't enough to burn the bed, but it was completely sufficient to get Wolfram's point across. The spy muttered something indistinct under his breath, but he didn't dare go back to their previous topic.

Yuuri had been too busy watching Wolfram's face the entire time, thinking that he would like to take the boy out again – only the two of them this time – on a…a date. That brief excursion they had with Greta back on Earth had been cut much too short, and it didn't really qualify as a date now that he had time to think about it.

He had the beginnings of a romantic trip drafted out in his mind, and so engrossed was he in filling in the details of his would-be date with Wolfram that he only caught the tail end of his friends' conversation. Most of what everyone had been talking and joking about merely passed through his ears without leaving any trace of meaning at all.

"Er…" he inserted during the lull in the conversation, "…what were you all talking about?"

Silence. He could almost hear a crow cawing in the distance. Then to Yuuri's bewilderment, Yozak started rolling with laughter, Murata's eyes gleamed with hilarity, and Wolfram gave him an odd look that was part disbelieving, part amused, and somewhat affectionate. He couldn't see Conrad's expression but Yuuri was sure that the man was also smiling at his expense. At least Anissina was asleep; that was one less person who had to make fun of his ignorance.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"If you'd care for a demonstration, Heika—" Yozak began, but Conrad cut in.

"Yozak, please," the man said, but his reprimand came across as a bit halfhearted. "Like I said, we have a child here…"

"Make that two," Wolfram quipped, much to Yuuri's continued confusion. He gave his fiancé a wounded look, but the latter only gave him a vague sort of smile.

"You said it," Murata agreed. Then as he moved to insert himself between Yozak and Yuuri, the sage remarked, "I can't wait for Lord von Christ to get here. He'd certainly make things more exciting."

His comment was met with a huff of disapproval from Wolfram and an expectant snigger from Yozak. Yuuri scowled at everyone and did not bother to react.

But as it were, the game ended by midday and Gunter never came.

Wolfram got better after only two days, just in time for the ball. But Yuuri had to endure the boy's gloating, for despite his prediction, Wolfram was out of bed faster than anybody else could have foreseen. He guessed that pure-blooded demons really did have super-healing qualities in their blood.

But Yuuri wasn't complaining. Now that he had sorted everything out with Wolfram, it was hard not to be so jubilant all the time. Everyone was beginning to notice, and though it caused the occasional awkward moment with people teasing them about their newfound intimacy, Yuuri couldn't care less. He was happy. Wolfram was happy too. It couldn't get any better than that.

The only two people who did not seem that pleased with the progress of their relationship were Gwendal and Gunter. Yuuri could understand Gunter's reaction. Some time in the past months, he began to appreciate that his tutor's feelings for him were a lot stronger than he initially thought, that the man's crankiness came across as a perfectly natural reaction. On the other hand, Gwendal was just…weird. It wasn't that he wasn't happy with this, Yuuri concluded in the end. Gwendal just probably didn't know how to react properly.

And speaking of the devil…

"There you are, Heika. I need a word." Gwendal had just emerged from the library, blocking his path, leaving no avenue for escape.

Yuuri eyed the man warily. "Is something wrong?"

"There's a parcel that the Earth Maou wanted to send us for the ball. It's a gift for Shinou-Heika."

"Oh." Yuuri masked his relief with an expression of curiosity. For a moment there, he thought the man would start quizzing him about his relationship with Wolfram. "What do you want me to do?"

"You should go pick it up," said the man. "You're the only one who has the means to travel there. Apparently, the gifts are in your house."

"But…but…" He was on his way to meet Wolfram and Greta for lunch, and there was no way that he'd trade that for a trip back to Earth just to run an errand. "Why not ask Murata?"

"The gift is for him as well. And besides, I could not just order the Great Sage for such a mundane task."

"You're ordering me!" said Yuuri indignantly. Did he miss a lesson about the hierarchical classification of things? Wasn't the king supposed to trump everybody else in the order?

In response, Gwendal said, "Right, of course, Heika." The man turned away for a moment, and just when Yuuri thought that he was off the hook, Gwendal glanced back at him and said offhandedly, "By the way, Gunter is searching for you. He didn't take it too well that he lost in your little game the other day. It seems that he wants another round."

"Huh?" Yuuri blinked at the change of topic. "Yeah…he never found us. He kept complaining that it was your fault that he lost."

"He has a point. I told him that I saw you riding out to Shinou's Temple," answered Gwendal, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips.

"But…why…?"

"I thought it best that Gunter didn't get too near Wolfram while he was still sick. If you noticed, they do rub each other the wrong way."

Yuuri stared at the man, surprised, but then he thought that he shouldn't be. He had long known that Gwendal would do just about anything for the sake of his brothers.

Gwendal continued, "Anyway, Heika, Gunter would be thrilled at another shot. He has not stopped talking about getting to you first and spending time alone with you in some secluded corner in the castle."

Yuuri shivered for some reason. "W-what…?"

"He must have filled twenty pages in his diary of his imagined private tryst with you…"

Yuuri's face turned beet-red. "You're joking…"

Gwendal offered, "I could ask Yozak to pilfer Gunter's diary for you…just to give you an idea what I am talking about. Gunter's prose is quite…vivid."

"N-n-no!" Yuuri sputtered. "I don't need to read anything!" He had a brush with Gunter's infamous diary in the past and he had zero desire to repeat that occurrence. "Tell Gunter that I won't be around. I'm…I'm going to Earth to pick up Shinou's gifts."

"Of course, Heika."

One, two, three. It took that exact number of seconds for Yuuri to realize that he'd just been had.

Gwendal smiled at him. "You should depart immediately, Heika."

"I…you…"

"I would not hold it against you if you change your mind, Heika. But I would of course tell Gunter to start searching for you."

Yuuri scowled, feeling trapped, cheated of a supposedly worry-free lunch with his daughter and fiancé. "Fine, I'm going."

Gwendal's smile broadened. "See you soon then, Heika."

Weird, Kei thought. He had desperately longed to leave the Shibuya household just a few days ago, but now that he had already left, he found himself wanting to return so badly.

His task was completed, and – as a thrilled Pierre informed him – he was paid rather handsomely for it. He still found the entire experience rather strange, but as he did gain a small fortune for it, he guessed that he could just put it behind him and move on. And besides, he also had the chance to stay in a really interesting, if not unconventional, household. Miko-san's eccentricities notwithstanding, Kei felt that the overall experience had been…fun.

There was that small mystery of the paintings that he had just redone, but Shori had obstinately refused to answer any of his questions. He briefly debated whether he ought to have shown him Wolfram's painting, but Kei decided against it in the—

Oh crap!

Kei straightened up suddenly, surprising Pierre who was seated beside him in the limousine that his rich client had graciously provided for them. He forgot Wolfram's painting! He remembered wrapping it up again and then placing it alongside the other canvases – the ones for his client – in the…the…

"The sitting room!" he blurted out loud.

"Kei-san?" Pierre was staring at him curiously. "What's the matter?"

"Turn around," Kei barked at the driver. "I forgot something. We need to go back."

"But we have another engagement," Pierre protested. "We have to go. We can't be late!"

Kei didn't really care that much, but he saw his assistant's point. He said instead, "Stop the car then. Go ahead of me and explain to everyone. I'll take a taxi and meet you there."

"B-but…"

"I'll be there," Kei promised, one foot already out of the vehicle. "This is important." And before his assistant could respond, he was running off into the streets, back into the house that he had just emerged from. It was a good thing that they hadn't gone that far.

The door was open, and to Kei's consternation, Miko-san was right by it, as though she had been waiting for him to come back. She had on that flowery apron that she usually wore around the house, and in one hand, she was waving a curry-stained spatula, almost like a wand. She reminded Kei of a wispy, hare-brained fairy.

"Kei-chan!" she squealed in delight. "What a nice surprise! Have you come back to finish my portrait?"

Kei tried to look harassed and busy, which wasn't that hard. "I would love to but I really don't have the time. Er…is Shori-san still here? I think I forgot one of my paintings in the sitting room…"

"Sho-chan already left," Miko informed him, nibbling childishly on the edge of the spatula. "He said he had something important to do."

"Did he take all the canvases with him?"

"No. Yuu-chan did."

Kei hesitated. "Yuu…chan?"

"Oh right," said Miko, clapping her hands together. "You still haven't met him, have you? My youngest? He's in the bathroom, with the paintings…"

"Er…bathroom?"

"I think he's trying to fit in the canvases through the tub," said the woman casually. "I'm not sure if he managed to completely immerse them in the water by now…"

The words "tub", "canvases", and "water" sent Kei's mind reeling with distress. What in the world was happening? Miko-san did not even look like she was joking. Well, there was no other way for it but to ask.

"Can I…?" he asked dazedly, "…go see your son…in the bathroom?" His question sounded wrong on so many different levels.

"Oh okay. He's upstairs." Kei forced his limbs to move, and as he made his way up to the second floor, he heard Miko call out to him, "Ask Yuu-chan to come down for a snack, okay? He shouldn't travel on an empty stomach!"

Kei didn't understand but he yelled out an affirmative response nonetheless. Upon reaching the entrance to the bathroom, he hesitated for a second before gathering the nerve to knock.

"Mom!" a voice responded from the other side. A boy. "For the last time, I'm fine. I don't need to eat okay? I have to go. Everyone's waiting for me."

Strange words for someone inside a bathroom, Kei thought. Just as he was wondering how best to reply, he heard the unmistakable splash of a large object being thrown into the water.

Kei froze for a moment.

Then, seized with a mental image of his paintings being completely inundated in the tub for whatever outrageous reason, he turned the knob and forced the door open.

A/N: It's official – this definitely isn't going to turn into a series of one-shots. I'm just having fun with the story right now, and I still don't have the faintest idea where the plot will lead to. However, I just set up the stage for another game, and another interesting (I hope) encounter. Anyway, thanks to those who reviewed the past chapter!

PS: Know an interesting game? Send me a message/review and it just might appear here somewhere down the road. Thanks for reading!