KKM Xmas repost: Pride of Place
Feb. 20th, 2009 10:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Pride of Place
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG
Summary/notes: When Conrad comes to visit the family, Shori isn't exactly pleased. Written for
hisoka44 in the
kkm_xmas exchange.
The first time Shibuya Shori meets Conrad Weller, he’s naked in their bathtub with Yuuri, Murata Ken, and Wolfram, one hand resting casually on Yuuri’s shoulderblade. Shori’s jaw sags with shock, but his mother simply pushes past him with a happy smile and towels in her hands. By the time Shori has mustered the thought to protest, they are already walking out of the bathroom in search of dry clothes. His clothes, to be precise, since Conrad is too tall for Yuuri’s and too slender for his father’s. When Shori objects to opening his closet to a complete stranger, his mother slaps his shoulder and deploys her secret weapon: “Sho-chan!”
Looking down at his mother’s huge eyes and wobbling lip, Shori sighs and gives it up as a lost cause.
At dinner, Conrad looks too much at ease, passing plates, pouring tea, and making small talk with Jennifer. Despite the obviousness of his mother’s flushed cheeks and brilliant laughter, it is quite evident to Shori that there is more than just one member of the Weller fan-club in his family: while Yuuri doesn’t exactly hang on his every word, his eyes follow Conrad’s face, darting away and back again with vague embarrassment each time Conrad looks back at him, smiling.
There’s something about that smile that Shori finds disconcerting, so he corners Yuuri in the hallway while Conrad and Jennifer are washing the dishes.
“You should be more careful, Yuu-chan.”
“Shori.” Yuuri rolls his eyes, exasperated. “We’re at home, it’s perfectly safe. Besides, Conrad’s here. He’d never let anyone hurt me.”
Conrad’s the one I’m worried about, Shori wants to say, but the obstinate faith in Yuuri’s eyes makes him subside, grumbling. “I won’t either,” he says instead.
“Yeah, but Conrad’s the best swordsman in Shin Makoku! And we play baseball together every morning. Conrad’s a really great pitcher.”
Shori, seeing the excited sparkle of hero-worship in his brother’s face, turns quickly and makes his escape. It’s clear that this is one argument he won’t win.
--
The second time he meets Conrad, he is wearing a pink apron and scrubbing the grout from the bathtub. Shori blinks.
“Hello, Shori,” Conrad says cheerfully.
Shori grunts as the full impact of his mother’s apron assaults his retinas, and beats a hasty retreat. He decides there must be something to Conrad, anyway- it takes a certain kind of man to be secure in his masculinity while wearing frilly pink gingham, after all.
Besides, it’s fun to watch his brother’s eyes bug out when he sees Conrad a few minutes later.
“C-Conrad?” Yuuri squawks.
“Yes, Heika?” Lurking just around the corner, Shori grudgingly adds another point for Conrad on his mental scoreboard: at least he addresses Yuuri with the proper respect, even if-
“It’s Yuuri, I keep telling you,” Yuuri says absently. “Why are you wearing that? Did my mother make you clean the bathroom?”
- Yuuri will always be Yuuri, and insist on informality. Shori sighs.
“No, I volunteered,” Conrad says.
“You don’t have to, you know. Guests shouldn’t have to clean house.”
“I don’t mind.”
But Yuuri kneels anyway, babbling away with amiable familiarity about cleaning and baseball and Shin Makoku, and helps Conrad finish scrubbing. For a moment, Shori remembers a much smaller Yuuri, alight with enthusiasm and the same incandescent smile, fingers wrapped tightly around his own. His stomach churns with something resembling jealousy, and he retreats to his room before he is noticed.
--
To Yuuri’s consternation, Jennifer hauls out the family photo albums for their guests after dinner that night, with the baby pictures at the top of the stack. Even Shori has to stifle a laugh as Murata teases his brother mercilessly about the girls’ dresses he wore as a toddler until he sinks into the sofa cushions, red-faced.
When faced with Yuuri’s pleading gaze, Conrad merely smiles. “You were cute,” he says mildly. “I’ve always thought so, dresses or no.”
“See, Yuu-chan?” Jennifer says triumphantly. “Conrad agrees with me!”
“I think you’re missing the point, Mom,” Yuuri grumbles, blushing incandescently. “Besides, I’m not a girl!”
“But they’re such good pictures!” Jennifer pouts. “Yuu-chan never lets me have any fun.”
Rolling his eyes at the familiar argument, Shori picks up the photo album. He looks down at Yuuri’s gap-toothed grin, remembering the feeling of holding onto something small and precious, if extremely independent. Yuuri has grown, now, but the urge to protect him is as strong as ever. Seeing Conrad take over his role is simply unacceptable, Shori thinks, glancing across the coffee table.
Conrad is looking at a different picture, a somewhat enigmatic smile on his face. Shori peers at it, curious, but unwilling to move closer. There are two figures in the photograph, one of them slightly larger than the other, both holding butterfly nets in their hands.
“A good brother,” Conrad says under his breath, and Shori frowns uncertainly. The possessive feeling is back, so he reaches over to clear away the pictures on the table, hiding their childhood memories away again.
--
On his way back from the bathroom, Shori peers into Yuuri’s room out of habit. Yuuri is sound asleep amid his usual pile of pillows and blankets, but Conrad turns from the chair at his bedside. Shori scowls- enough is enough- and gestures curtly toward the hallway. The sword in Conrad’s hands doesn’t even register until Conrad sets it down to join him outside.
“Yes, Shori?”
“He’s my little brother,” Shori says. “What exactly do you want with him?”
“He is our king. He is the Maou that all of Shin Makoku has been waiting for.”
“He doesn’t know enough to be a ruler!”
“Perhaps not yet.” Conrad smiles, glancing back toward the door. “But even on his first day, he was a better one than we could ever have hoped for.”
“Is he in danger?”
Conrad looks at him steadily. “He is our king. Thanks to our history, the Mazoku have many potential enemies.”
Shori rolls his eyes. “Wonderful. Yuu-chan doesn’t have a concept of the word ‘enemy.’”
“No,” Conrad agrees. “But it’s why Yuuri has the power to change things. Our world has already become a better place than it was when he first came.”
Shori stares at the stars outside the window, thinking about worlds beyond his own, where even the constellations are changed. “It’s so far away.”
“Yes.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Yes, he is.” Conrad leans against the wall, face tilted toward the ceiling. “I’ve been waiting a long time for him to arrive. A very long time.”
Shori gives him a cockeyed glance, but Conrad doesn’t bother to elaborate, his hand reaching up to toy with the blue stone at his neck. Finally, Shori grows tired of waiting, and turns toward his room.
“He is your brother,” Conrad repeats, absently. “I am merely his, in all things. My sword, my life, my self- they are Yuuri’s.”
Pausing, Shori looks over his shoulder, but Conrad’s eyes are fixed on the moon edging into sight, a faint smile on his face. Shori shrugs, feeling something tense and wary in his chest unwinding slowly, and continues on to bed. He can live with that.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG
Summary/notes: When Conrad comes to visit the family, Shori isn't exactly pleased. Written for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
The first time Shibuya Shori meets Conrad Weller, he’s naked in their bathtub with Yuuri, Murata Ken, and Wolfram, one hand resting casually on Yuuri’s shoulderblade. Shori’s jaw sags with shock, but his mother simply pushes past him with a happy smile and towels in her hands. By the time Shori has mustered the thought to protest, they are already walking out of the bathroom in search of dry clothes. His clothes, to be precise, since Conrad is too tall for Yuuri’s and too slender for his father’s. When Shori objects to opening his closet to a complete stranger, his mother slaps his shoulder and deploys her secret weapon: “Sho-chan!”
Looking down at his mother’s huge eyes and wobbling lip, Shori sighs and gives it up as a lost cause.
At dinner, Conrad looks too much at ease, passing plates, pouring tea, and making small talk with Jennifer. Despite the obviousness of his mother’s flushed cheeks and brilliant laughter, it is quite evident to Shori that there is more than just one member of the Weller fan-club in his family: while Yuuri doesn’t exactly hang on his every word, his eyes follow Conrad’s face, darting away and back again with vague embarrassment each time Conrad looks back at him, smiling.
There’s something about that smile that Shori finds disconcerting, so he corners Yuuri in the hallway while Conrad and Jennifer are washing the dishes.
“You should be more careful, Yuu-chan.”
“Shori.” Yuuri rolls his eyes, exasperated. “We’re at home, it’s perfectly safe. Besides, Conrad’s here. He’d never let anyone hurt me.”
Conrad’s the one I’m worried about, Shori wants to say, but the obstinate faith in Yuuri’s eyes makes him subside, grumbling. “I won’t either,” he says instead.
“Yeah, but Conrad’s the best swordsman in Shin Makoku! And we play baseball together every morning. Conrad’s a really great pitcher.”
Shori, seeing the excited sparkle of hero-worship in his brother’s face, turns quickly and makes his escape. It’s clear that this is one argument he won’t win.
--
The second time he meets Conrad, he is wearing a pink apron and scrubbing the grout from the bathtub. Shori blinks.
“Hello, Shori,” Conrad says cheerfully.
Shori grunts as the full impact of his mother’s apron assaults his retinas, and beats a hasty retreat. He decides there must be something to Conrad, anyway- it takes a certain kind of man to be secure in his masculinity while wearing frilly pink gingham, after all.
Besides, it’s fun to watch his brother’s eyes bug out when he sees Conrad a few minutes later.
“C-Conrad?” Yuuri squawks.
“Yes, Heika?” Lurking just around the corner, Shori grudgingly adds another point for Conrad on his mental scoreboard: at least he addresses Yuuri with the proper respect, even if-
“It’s Yuuri, I keep telling you,” Yuuri says absently. “Why are you wearing that? Did my mother make you clean the bathroom?”
- Yuuri will always be Yuuri, and insist on informality. Shori sighs.
“No, I volunteered,” Conrad says.
“You don’t have to, you know. Guests shouldn’t have to clean house.”
“I don’t mind.”
But Yuuri kneels anyway, babbling away with amiable familiarity about cleaning and baseball and Shin Makoku, and helps Conrad finish scrubbing. For a moment, Shori remembers a much smaller Yuuri, alight with enthusiasm and the same incandescent smile, fingers wrapped tightly around his own. His stomach churns with something resembling jealousy, and he retreats to his room before he is noticed.
--
To Yuuri’s consternation, Jennifer hauls out the family photo albums for their guests after dinner that night, with the baby pictures at the top of the stack. Even Shori has to stifle a laugh as Murata teases his brother mercilessly about the girls’ dresses he wore as a toddler until he sinks into the sofa cushions, red-faced.
When faced with Yuuri’s pleading gaze, Conrad merely smiles. “You were cute,” he says mildly. “I’ve always thought so, dresses or no.”
“See, Yuu-chan?” Jennifer says triumphantly. “Conrad agrees with me!”
“I think you’re missing the point, Mom,” Yuuri grumbles, blushing incandescently. “Besides, I’m not a girl!”
“But they’re such good pictures!” Jennifer pouts. “Yuu-chan never lets me have any fun.”
Rolling his eyes at the familiar argument, Shori picks up the photo album. He looks down at Yuuri’s gap-toothed grin, remembering the feeling of holding onto something small and precious, if extremely independent. Yuuri has grown, now, but the urge to protect him is as strong as ever. Seeing Conrad take over his role is simply unacceptable, Shori thinks, glancing across the coffee table.
Conrad is looking at a different picture, a somewhat enigmatic smile on his face. Shori peers at it, curious, but unwilling to move closer. There are two figures in the photograph, one of them slightly larger than the other, both holding butterfly nets in their hands.
“A good brother,” Conrad says under his breath, and Shori frowns uncertainly. The possessive feeling is back, so he reaches over to clear away the pictures on the table, hiding their childhood memories away again.
--
On his way back from the bathroom, Shori peers into Yuuri’s room out of habit. Yuuri is sound asleep amid his usual pile of pillows and blankets, but Conrad turns from the chair at his bedside. Shori scowls- enough is enough- and gestures curtly toward the hallway. The sword in Conrad’s hands doesn’t even register until Conrad sets it down to join him outside.
“Yes, Shori?”
“He’s my little brother,” Shori says. “What exactly do you want with him?”
“He is our king. He is the Maou that all of Shin Makoku has been waiting for.”
“He doesn’t know enough to be a ruler!”
“Perhaps not yet.” Conrad smiles, glancing back toward the door. “But even on his first day, he was a better one than we could ever have hoped for.”
“Is he in danger?”
Conrad looks at him steadily. “He is our king. Thanks to our history, the Mazoku have many potential enemies.”
Shori rolls his eyes. “Wonderful. Yuu-chan doesn’t have a concept of the word ‘enemy.’”
“No,” Conrad agrees. “But it’s why Yuuri has the power to change things. Our world has already become a better place than it was when he first came.”
Shori stares at the stars outside the window, thinking about worlds beyond his own, where even the constellations are changed. “It’s so far away.”
“Yes.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Yes, he is.” Conrad leans against the wall, face tilted toward the ceiling. “I’ve been waiting a long time for him to arrive. A very long time.”
Shori gives him a cockeyed glance, but Conrad doesn’t bother to elaborate, his hand reaching up to toy with the blue stone at his neck. Finally, Shori grows tired of waiting, and turns toward his room.
“He is your brother,” Conrad repeats, absently. “I am merely his, in all things. My sword, my life, my self- they are Yuuri’s.”
Pausing, Shori looks over his shoulder, but Conrad’s eyes are fixed on the moon edging into sight, a faint smile on his face. Shori shrugs, feeling something tense and wary in his chest unwinding slowly, and continues on to bed. He can live with that.
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Date: 2009-02-20 05:42 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-02-21 04:38 am (UTC)While I observed the tension between Shouri and Conrad in the anime, I hadn't really thought through all the implications. Of course Shouri would be terribly jealous, not only of Yuuri being protected by someone else, somewhere else, but also of Yuuri's obvious attachment and admiration for Conrad. Where Yuuri gets irritated and won't allow Shouri to help him, he naturally turns to Conrad. Yet Shouri does eventually become more comfortable with Conrad, at least to the point where he trusts him to look after Yuuri while he's not around.
I thought you showed the internal struggle and the beginning of friendliness very well!
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Date: 2009-02-21 10:58 pm (UTC)