Work Text:
Murata Ken doesn’t expect to come across the former prince when he opens the door to the King’s office.
“Good evening, Lord von Bielefeld,”
Wolfram pauses, holding a cup of tea halfway to his lips, and flipping a page with another. He gives a slight bow before gulping down the rest of his tea.
“Sorry to intrude,” it has become a habit. He does that whenever he went to their bedroom, and it carries off. But he doesn’t mind.
Murata looks around the empty room. Lord Wolfram is sitting near the long table at the side of the office; a stack of books and an empty cup are his only companion. Solitude doesn’t look so good on him, in Murata’s opinion. He has always been so energetic.
“If you’re looking for Yuuri, he will be back in an hour or so,”
Murata pulls a chair and sits on the opposite side of the table. “Where did he go?”
“Playing baseball,” Wolfram replies without batting an eye.
Murata smiles and reclines on his chair, studying the pretty boy’s profile. “You didn’t go with him?”
Wolfram snorts and gets up. He goes to the tray brought by the maid and pours two cups of warm tea. He places one in front of the person who has the same hair and eye colour as his fiancé. “I don’t believe going to play baseball constitute of being in danger; except for the occasional falls and bruises, but don’t worry, Conrart is with him.” He sits back, drinking his tea. “Besides, I’m not interested in the game.”
Despite his persistence and constant reminder to Yuuri the importance of his duty as a Maoh, Wolfram always let Yuuri do as he wish without any complains.
“Well, that’s one thing we have in common.” Murata counters, and stirs his tea slowly and appreciates the scent coming from the delicate cup.
Wolfram is about to go back to his book, but he is surprise at Murata’s statement. “You don’t like baseball? But Yuuri said you always went with him to watch the game back in the other world.”
“He’s my best friend, even if I don’t enjoy the game; it doesn’t mean I can’t spend time with him,”
And come to think of it, is this the first time he ever has a private conversation with his friend’s fiancé? It’s true that their first encounter set off to a rocky start—Wolfram didn’t know how to act around the person with the soul of the Great Sage. While on his part, he doesn’t know how to judge the person who plays an important role in Yuuri’s life, until he saw the determination in Lord Wolfram’s fiery green eyes and how Yuuri’s whole being lights up at the sight of the former prince—and the atmosphere between them was so awkward they had to avoid each other’s eyes to the point that Wolfram had to direct all his frustration and annoyance he had with him towards Yuuri.
“Are you self- studying?” Murata asks in wonder, as he notices the books beside Wolfram.
“I’m doing a revision, actually. Yuuri has a class on economical geographic and history in an hour. He doesn’t seem to understand half of what Gunter said, so he always had to ask me because I always accompany him.”
Shibuya is bad at history, though. “So you’re revising so you can help explain it better to him later?”
Wolfram shrugs. “I guess. He is really bad at history. I have to explain it like telling bedtime stories or else he’ll forget easily. Explaining to Greta is a lot easier,”
“Actually he’s trying his very best, you know.”
“Wolf is trying his best? Why would he try his best?”
“To help you become a good king.”
“I just hope for all his efforts, he’ll get what he really deserves.”
Why, how many years has it been since he said those words? It might be just a year ago, or two years? He doesn’t keep track. Back then those words were just a mere thought—a prophecy. But now it has become a foreseeable future.
“I can help you,” Murata says. “I’m not really good about Shin Makoku’s current backbone economy and all, since I left for earth a long time ago, but I can help you with your revision, I have quite a good memory.”
Really, he doesn’t have to bear the responsibility alone. Even though his main objective is to help Shibuya, Murata never said he wouldn’t lend a hand to the future Prince Regent of Shin Makoku.
“That’s—that is actually a good idea,” Lord von Bielefeld closes his book and leans over the table with his elbows.
“Great! We’ll set a schedule then. Oh,” then Murata leans over too, winking an eye and holds a finger on his lips. “We’ll keep it a secret from Shibuya for the time being, okay?”
Wolfram chuckles and he truly looks like an angel sent from heaven. “Okay,”
There might be many differences between them, but the one thing they have in common—aside from not liking baseball—is for Yuuri to become a good king.
They both turn simultaneously towards the entrance when they hear the door opens.
“Wolfram, there you are! I’ve been looking—Murata, what are you doing here?”
Murata sits back on his chair and pushes up his glasses, black eyes gleam in amusement. “I’m having a cup of tea,”
Yuuri stares at him suspiciously and puts down the silver tray he brings in with him. “I know you’re just bored. But here, Wolfram, look what I got! I walked past the bakery at town and they had this beautiful cake and I thought of you—“
Wolfram, who has a sweet tooth, smiles beautifully at the two pieces of cake tops with strawberries and cream.
“And I always make you accompany me during work and classes, so I—“
Murata laughs. He was right all along, Shibuya is attracted to the ones older than him.
-end-