End of Engagement, Beginning a New Season

“I can't say I approve of this subterfuge,” Shouma said to his son.

“I know Dad. You've always taught me honesty and straightforwardness. But, please, just one
more night,” Yuuri pleaded. “I'll let Wolfram know first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Well, you should know him best,” Shouma relented. “You've grown up Yuuri. Though it was only
a few months ago that you graduated from High School.... [At 25? Still looks young enough to be
a highschooler…] Son, I am proud of you. You've raised a wonderful daughter and I am not going
to judge you on how you handle your affairs.”

Yuuri smiled.

“Besides,” Shouma added, “your mother already approved of this.”

Yuuri's smile grew even wider. Yes, his mother approved but only after much begging and
pleading and a million promises that Yuuri knew he would regret later. [She doesn’t get to go to
Shin Makoku and it isn’t in Japan?]

When he saw them come out of the lobby, Yuuri waved to them from the parking lot. His mother
winked at him surreptitiously while Wolfram avoided his gaze.

Yuuri hated for anyone to be angry with him. This applied, especially, to Wolfram. It was probably
why their engagement survived so long. That and Wolfram's iron will. Really, it shouldn't be too
bad for Wolfram to be denied one thing he wanted. [Wedding at Blood Pledge?]
“Wolf,” Yuuri said tentatively.

Wolfram shot him an icy look. And Yuuri almost broke down, almost going down on his knees and
asking the ex-prince to forgive him. But he felt Conrad's hand on his shoulder and he stood a little
straighter and a little more determined.

In the end, Yuuri could only say “Um... nevermind.”

Getting rid of Wolfram really should have been the worst task for the evening. Unfortunately, the
gods who smiled so sweetly during the day had turned sour at night. As perfect as the day was,
the night was proving to be the opposite.

It really was Murata's and Shouri's fault.

And his mother's.

Well, if Yuuri was to be honest, then his mother's doing was his fault. He was never really
cognizant of how badly, terribly, obsessively, she wanted to see Wolfram in a wedding dress.
Well, it wasn't going to happen. [Because Wolf is a guy?] And so it was with deep regret for the
promises he gave her that Yuuri put on the dress that Shouri handed him.

“Why exactly are we dressed like this?” he moaned again as they walked to their destination. The
night was cool enough that they didn't feel hot under all the layers of clothes they wore.

“Yuu-chan, how many times do I have to explain to you. It's a masquerade, you go in costumes
and masks. That's what people do in masquerades.” Shouri said as if he was talking to a six year
old.

“Why exactly are we going to a masquerade?” Yuuri whined.

“Because we were invited,” Shouri said with some finality.

“We didn't have to go, you know,” Yuuri countered.

“Yes, we do. It would have been rude not to,” Shouri replied, his patience almost at the breaking
point.

“Wolfram didn't have to.”

“You're the one who didn't want Wolfram to come.”

“I don't want to hear about Wolfram! Why am I in a dress!”

“Aw, come on Shibuya, I'm wearing a dress too,” Murata smiled as he twirled making the skirt of
his dress billow rather prettily. [Lol, oh Murata…]

“Mom said you had to wear that dress,” Shouri explained, “she said it was payment. You'll have to
go ask her. Though I would think you know what it's for.”

After a brief silence, Yuuri moaned to Conrad, “I wouldn't even be in a dress if Shouri didn't have
the bright idea to go to a stupid masquerade.”

“That's onii-chan!”

“Shouri!”

“Onii-chan!”

“Shouri!” Yuuri dragged the first syllable out for as long as he could.

“Yuu-chan, you don't seem to recognize all the trouble I went through so you can have this one
wish of yours. If the people that made it possible for you to make use of Fenway Park want to see
you in a masquerade then you are going to a masquerade.”

For once, Yuuri was suitably chastened.

“Well, if it makes any difference,” Conrad said, “you do look beautiful in the dress, Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked at Conrad with big watery eyes. Why can't he look at me like that, Shouri thought,
always, it's Conrad!

There was a bright flash and Yuuri blinked his eyes. “What was that?” he asked in a suspicious
tone.

“Smile, Shibuya!” Murata said mischievously.

“Eh?!! What are you doing?” Yuuri said as he tried to grab the camera from his friend's hand.

“Mama-san said to take as many pictures as possible. The memory chip is 4 gigs so we should
be able to take hundreds of pictures.”

Yuuri abruptly sat on his haunches and covered his face with his hands.
“Yuu-chan, you're getting your dress dirty.”

“Argh! I don't care.”

Conrad went down on one knee in front of Yuuri and held his hand out.

Yuuri looked up at Conrad. “I know I'm being childish. It's just... this is supposed to be my night.
Not Shibuya Miko's night. Not Shibuya Shouri's night.”

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. When did you become so selfish?” Shouri reprimanded, “did you even
spare one thought for Wolfram?” [Upset? Jealous?]

“When did you start caring so much about Wolfram?” Yuuri replied sourly.

Shouri looked heaven-ward and took a deep breath, “What kind of a stupid question is that? Of
course I care about Wolfram.” [Because he’s going to be his brother-in-law?]

“Well, if you care so much about Wolfram why don't you just...”

“...marry him? Yes, I think I will. I'll put him in a nice white wedding dress and make Mom happy.
We'll have a big fat wedding cake and I won't allow you to dance with him. And then we'll have
lots of children and named them all Yuu-chan!” Shouri was almost screaming. His face was red,
several veins showing clearly on his forehead and he was breathing hard as if he just ran a
marathon.

Perhaps, Yuuri thought, it would be wise to shut up now.

Flash!

Yuuri and Conrad groaned and Murata exclaimed, “That was a nice one!”

Hours later, after extricating Murata's neck off of Shouri's deathgrip, after Yuuri finished wondering
why Shouri was being uncharacteristically violent and if it had anything to do with the stress of
being Maou, after the random discussion about why he and Murata needed fake ID's and why
Miko also happened to have one, after several dances with strangers in strange costumes and
even stranger masks, after a hundred and some camera flashes, and after several drinks, Yuuri
found himself enjoying the masquerade.

“Well, Yuuri, having fun?” Conrad asked his companion as they stood by one of the buffet tables.

“You were right, Conrad, as always. The dress does not define the man,” Yuuri let out a little
snicker, “did you learn that from Yozak?”

“Nope. I taught him that,” Conrad replied smiling at Yuuri's reaction.

“That was a pretty girl you were dancing with,” Yuuri mused.

“Yuuri...”

“Yes?”

“That was a man.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said abashed.

“That was a pretty girl you were dancing with,” Conrad commented.

Yuuri blushed his eyes darting elsewhere. “Um... yeah...” [Caught!]

“So... why did she slap you?” Conrad asked.

“Oh god!” Yuuri groaned, “you saw that!”

“I think everyone heard it.”

Yuuri groaned again. “I thought she was a man... and I kind of asked him... her... wasn't it funny
for two men to be dancing.” [He needed reassurance about the gay issues on Earth?]

Conrad only chuckled in reply.

“And when she said she was a girl... I kind of blurted out... I said... I said, 'Oh, but you're so flat-
chested.' That's when she slapped me.”

Conrad was now practically doubled over in laughter.

“Stop it! How was I supposed to know. She's got the same outfit as you and Shouri. She looked
like a prince...”

“Yuuri...” Conrad gasped in between chuckles, “you do know this is a masquerade, right?”

“I expect teasing from Murata and Shouri, not from you.”

Conrad removed his mask so he could wipe the tears from his eyes. Once he stopped laughing,
he bowed gracefully to Yuuri and said, “Can I have this dance, princess?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Yuuri replied but took the offered hand anyway. “Well, then, I'll apologize
now if I accidentally step on your toes.”

“Not to worry, I'm wearing steel-toed boots.”

As far as Yuuri knew, Gunter was the most graceful dancer in Shin Makoku. The fluid motions of
the silver-haired Mazoku pleased all aesthetic senses. Wolfram danced as if he performed for an
audience, very technically correct, but somehow lacked a sense of joy and freedom. He once
watched the two dance together at one of the balls and it had left the spectators breathless with
the beauty of the waltz. Conrad danced like he was enjoying himself. He was graceful enough
and knew the moves well enough, but he danced as if he could care less if his movement looked
disjointed and foolish, as if he could care less whether it pleased whoever was watching. Art and
propriety did not concern him, only the merriment mattered. Conrad danced the way he told
jokes. Yuuri liked dancing with his name-giver because he himself was a terrible dancer. He didn't
have to worry about the proper steps or how he looked when he danced with Conrad.

It was, of course, a pleasure he rarely got to indulge in due to the jealousy of his sometime
insecure fiancé. He hoped that after tomorrow, he would be able to dance with Conrad more
often. [Because Wolf would no longer be insecure about it?]

Since Yuuri was wearing the dress there was no question on who was going to lead.

“Yuuri,” Conrad said softly as they slowly waltzed from one corner of the dance floor to the other.

“Yes?” replied Yuuri breathlessly.

“You can stop counting now.”

“Oh...”

Conrad gave his partner an amused smile. Now that Yuuri had stopped the ceaseless 1-2-3-1-2-
3, he decided to be a bit more daring. He grabbed Yuuri a little tighter and swept him across the
floor making Yuuri's eye bulge out and his skirts billow. Yuuri forgot to think about dance steps
and just followed Conrad's movements by instinct.

Yuuri couldn't believe how much happiness could be derived just from moving his body. He forgot
his worries, he forgot his responsibilities, he forgot he was a man dancing with another man.
[Nerves] There was only the dance and the music and the smile on his partner's lips.

This one time, Conrad's smile was reflected not only on his eyes but in his heart. Though the
feathered and sequined mask remained on the upper portion of his face, the other mask, the one
he wore everyday, fell off. It was rare to see Yuuri's happiness without sharing it with the rest of
the world. This one time, he could be selfish. For this one moment, he could think that the world
only consisted of him and Yuuri. He could bask in Yuuri's glory and the rest of the world could go
to hell in a hand basket. For this one moment... [Poor Conrad. All the ConYuu mentions are one-
sided.]

They stood in front of the hotel laughing and joking. Once in a while a flash would go off and more
laughing would ensue.

Yuuri was barefoot. He had chucked the painful shoes midway through the masquerade. It was
just as well since he stepped on so many feet that the loss of his shoes was really a blessing to
all his partners.

“This night was not how I pictured it would be,” Yuuri said, “but I think it turned out better.”

Shouri gave him a smug smile. “You should listen to your older brother more often, Yuu-chan.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you, onii-chan,” Yuuri said emphasizing the last word.

The look on Shouri's face was like the cherry on this sundae of an evening.

“Wait, the evening can't end without a kiss,” Murata interrupted. [ilu, Murata.]

“Eh?! What?” Yuuri cried.

“You danced with a bunch of girls and all you got was a slap,” Murata said. “Tell you what, I'll kiss
you.”

“What?!!” Shouri and Yuuri exclaimed.

Murata puckered his lips making smooching noises and advancing on Yuuri as he said, “Come
on, Shibuya, give it over.”

Shouri held Murata back and yelled, “Hey, if Yuu-chan is kissing anyone, it should be me. His
beloved older brother!”

“WHAT!!! Shouri, that's sick! Have you gone insane!”

“Look, Shibuya, just a quick peck and it'll be all over.”

“Friend of my brother, you will not sully the lips of my precious Yuu-chan...”

Yuuri took a look at Conrad hoping for some assistance. It was hopeless as Conrad just stood
there guffawing.

Yuuri didn't know what came over him, whether it was the silly argument between the two,
whether it was the dancing and the laughing, whether it was the few drinks he consumed,
whether he was really afraid of kissing his own brother, whether he wanted to stop Conrad from
laughing. Perhaps, because he was now more honest with himself and could admit that yes,
when he first met Conrad, there had been a little bit of a crush. [Past tense. And Yuuri is showing
more gay acceptance again.] Perhaps it was that but he really didn't know why he dared.

He grabbed Conrad by the shoulder and plastered his lips on the lips of his loyal bodyguard.

They were firm and crooked from smiling. They were very different from the only other lips he
kissed (not counting his family). [Present past. Not he had kissed, but he kissed. Means he still
currently kisses them. And they aren’t Conrad’s!] They were like hot chocolate: warm and
comforting. They were...

Flash!

Wolfram was going to kill him. [YOU CHEATER!]