Kyou Kara Maou Drabble
Jun. 9th, 2005 09:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsFirst try at ConYuu from KKM because after episode 41 I couldn't NOT anymore. 625 words and it probably sucks. Ah well.
“No!”
It was almost something out of a bad movie, the way his hand stretched out beseechingly towards the figure rapidly moving into the distance. He’d seen far too much of that back lately – strong, proud, unbending – and not nearly enough of warm brown eyes and a gentle smile.
“No!”
Why wasn’t he running, chasing after him again? Why couldn’t he move? His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst and he could feel hot tears begin to gather. Why was it this man who always made him cry, made him feel so lost and weak?
“No, you promised me! You promised me again and I believed you! Don’t leave! We’ll do this together, like everyone agreed!”
But it was too late. He was gone, vanished into the haze that covered the horizon, and there wasn’t a chance of catching up to him.
Yuuri woke with Conrad’s name caught between his lips and the pillow that should have been under his head squeezed nearly to death in his arms. The glowing red numbers of his alarm clock told him he still had at least four more hours before his wake-up call was set to go off. Four more hours to stare at the ceiling or try to sleep. Four more hours to reassure himself that everything would be okay.
He wanted desperately to believe Conrad would be waiting with Wolfram, Greta, Gunter, and everybody else, wanted to believe that the soldier he depended on for so much would not have tried to sneak away a second time. He had a good feeling Yozak would help in that department. Even now how wasn’t sure exactly how much the half-demon spy had truly known about Conrad’s ‘betrayal.’
It was all so stupid. Stupid Shinou and stupid wars and stupid, stupid, stupid, Conrad. As if leaving him alone would somehow have made gathering the four boxes easier. Oh he understood the logic behind it all. But Conrad’s very arm was the key. Instead of going away, he should have stayed, let Yuuri and his family protect him for a change. Yuuri was not about to let one of the few people who understood both of his worlds, who understood him and supported him the way Conrad always did, suffer.
Except that Conrad had suffered. He’d watched as the man’s arm had been cut off, heard the ringing strength and determination as Conrad vowed to live and to protect him before he’d been swept away. And he’d felt, deep inside, the pain it must have caused Conrad to remain silent in Big Shimaron’s uniform as he faced his family, his friends, his countrymen, all in the name of Yuuri’s own dream of peace. Looking into Conrad’s eyes on that road in Francshire, his own vision blurred from unshed tears, he even saw the guilt deepen, guilt that he’d do anything to erase.
After all, it had been entirely for him. Yuuri was starting to realize that just about every action Conrad had taken since he arrived in New Makoku had been for his sake. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Conrad had chosen to live that way – would any Maou have received the same treatment? – but it was his duty to make his dreams come true. Peace between human and mazoku was what he wanted, what all them worked so hard for, and he would be the one to bring it.
“Conrad.”
Yuuri set the pillow back behind him, curling one arm under his head. He had to believe in Conrad the way Conrad believed in him. And Murata seemed to know far more about everything in the other world that he, so he would trust his friend. Conrad would be waiting for him when he returned.
“No!”
It was almost something out of a bad movie, the way his hand stretched out beseechingly towards the figure rapidly moving into the distance. He’d seen far too much of that back lately – strong, proud, unbending – and not nearly enough of warm brown eyes and a gentle smile.
“No!”
Why wasn’t he running, chasing after him again? Why couldn’t he move? His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst and he could feel hot tears begin to gather. Why was it this man who always made him cry, made him feel so lost and weak?
“No, you promised me! You promised me again and I believed you! Don’t leave! We’ll do this together, like everyone agreed!”
But it was too late. He was gone, vanished into the haze that covered the horizon, and there wasn’t a chance of catching up to him.
Yuuri woke with Conrad’s name caught between his lips and the pillow that should have been under his head squeezed nearly to death in his arms. The glowing red numbers of his alarm clock told him he still had at least four more hours before his wake-up call was set to go off. Four more hours to stare at the ceiling or try to sleep. Four more hours to reassure himself that everything would be okay.
He wanted desperately to believe Conrad would be waiting with Wolfram, Greta, Gunter, and everybody else, wanted to believe that the soldier he depended on for so much would not have tried to sneak away a second time. He had a good feeling Yozak would help in that department. Even now how wasn’t sure exactly how much the half-demon spy had truly known about Conrad’s ‘betrayal.’
It was all so stupid. Stupid Shinou and stupid wars and stupid, stupid, stupid, Conrad. As if leaving him alone would somehow have made gathering the four boxes easier. Oh he understood the logic behind it all. But Conrad’s very arm was the key. Instead of going away, he should have stayed, let Yuuri and his family protect him for a change. Yuuri was not about to let one of the few people who understood both of his worlds, who understood him and supported him the way Conrad always did, suffer.
Except that Conrad had suffered. He’d watched as the man’s arm had been cut off, heard the ringing strength and determination as Conrad vowed to live and to protect him before he’d been swept away. And he’d felt, deep inside, the pain it must have caused Conrad to remain silent in Big Shimaron’s uniform as he faced his family, his friends, his countrymen, all in the name of Yuuri’s own dream of peace. Looking into Conrad’s eyes on that road in Francshire, his own vision blurred from unshed tears, he even saw the guilt deepen, guilt that he’d do anything to erase.
After all, it had been entirely for him. Yuuri was starting to realize that just about every action Conrad had taken since he arrived in New Makoku had been for his sake. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Conrad had chosen to live that way – would any Maou have received the same treatment? – but it was his duty to make his dreams come true. Peace between human and mazoku was what he wanted, what all them worked so hard for, and he would be the one to bring it.
“Conrad.”
Yuuri set the pillow back behind him, curling one arm under his head. He had to believe in Conrad the way Conrad believed in him. And Murata seemed to know far more about everything in the other world that he, so he would trust his friend. Conrad would be waiting for him when he returned.
