#yoimythologyweek

“I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.” 

― Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

“We’re almost there! Almost there!”

The chair jolts, and Viktor feels his bones creak, his frail body shift in the seat.

It’s bright, too bright, the sun beating down on them as his cousin steers his wheelchair haphazardly down a dirt road, bumping and jouncing the wheels over rocks and stones. Drawing in a rasping breath, Viktor slumps further in his seat, eyes falling shut.

“Don’t you die on me, old man,” Yura snaps behind him. The chair jolts again, rattling Viktor’s teeth. “Not before you see him one last time!”

Him…?

Viktor’s eyes open to see shadows fall across the trees, the light dimming slowly, gradually, around them.

His aged heart stutters once, before it soars with the rise of darkness, a name escaping unbidden from his trembling lips.

“Yuuri…”

The room is a mess. Despite the bookshelf against the wall, books are strewn about: some closed and tossed to a corner; others left open with dark brown stains. There are notes on the desk, scratches of letters, numbers, numerical signs scattered across crumpled papers. A coat, long and black, drapes over the top of a wooden chair, while a scarf lies on the floor in a pool of red wool, having fallen as soon as it was flung off.

On the couch, Viktor sits up, blinking sleep out of his eyes. His hair is a tangled mess of silver, his clothes rumpled and smelling of his mother’s homemade chicken pot pie. A full-grown adult, and his mother still insists on visiting him once a week to cook and clean and “make sure he was alive”. Sure, he might have a tendency to forget eating sometimes. Or sleeping. Or any of those silly, mundane things that take him away from his work.

Rising to his feet, Viktor shuffles into the kitchen and sets a filled kettle on the stove. Three clicks, and there’s a hot flare of blue as he reaches for the tin of tea leaves on the shelf above.  

He’s close. So, so close.

Just a few more calculations to the time and location of the next solar eclipse.

To the Umbra Regem.

The Shadow King.

Stories of the Umbra Regem vary. His school teachers call it the grim reaper, a Lord of the Underworld that appears among mortals to steal souls when the Sun God is at his weakest. His mother says it is a giant, hairy creature with red eyes, glistening fangs, and a bottomless appetite that drives its urge to devour little children when the moon swallows the sun.  

Little Viktor didn’t believe a single word.

Adult Viktor, now infused with the teachings of philosophy and science and astronomy, still doesn’t believe a single word. 

Doesn’t believe that the Umbra Regem is real.

And he wants now, more than ever, to seek the truth.

A shrill whistle pulls Viktor out of his reverie.

Carefully, he tips the kettle over his mug and carries it, steaming, back to his desk. The scent of tea grounds him, calms his thoughts. People think him mad for devoting his life to studying a myth, but he doesn’t care. Teaching at the academy gave him prestige, yes, but it brought him no life, no joy. It feels nice to finally have a purpose, like plunging down the rabbit hole to find out exactly what lies at the bottom.

Viktor runs a finger across his calculations.

Almost there. Just a little more, and he will find this elusive eclipse.

It’s two in the afternoon, several months later, that Viktor finds himself wandering around the edge of a meadow, waiting, hoping, for the moon to blot out the sun. He swings a bat idly in one hand, brought on the off-chance that the stories were true.

On the surface, he appears composed. Confident. As though he already knows he’s right. (And he’s fairly sure he is.)

But deep inside, Viktor’s stomach roils and boils and his blood pumps through his veins, running on sleeplessness and some sort of muffled adrenaline. Months and months of numbers and calculations and squinting through his telescope at the distant moon, at the far-off sun, have culminated into this one decisive moment. Besides his mother’s weekly visits, he has spoken to no one, written to no one, no matter how many times his family and friends knocked on his door, no matter how many times his mother tells him to write.

If he’s wrong, if he has miscalculated, his dedication would have all been for naught.

As if fate had read his mind, it is in that moment of doubt that darkness starts to fall around him. Envelops the world gently with a black cloak as the leaves rustle in the wind, as the crickets begin to sing, as the afternoon sun vanishes in its depths. In minutes, the moon obscures the light; in minutes, day turns to night.

A lesser man would have quaked in fear, old myths and superstitions of death and beasts and angry Gods running amok in his ignorant, uneducated brain.

Viktor is so relieved his knees almost give out.

At least his prediction is accurate.

Viktor barely has time to congratulate himself before something—a shadow—flashes past the corner of his eye.

Instantly, instinctively, he ducks behind a tree, hands tightening round the handle of the bat.

As Viktor’s eyes adjust to the gloom, he peeks round, slow and careful. It takes him a moment to process the sight before him, and another to realize that he has somehow chanced upon something unreal and magical. To realize, breath catching, grip loosening on his bat, that:

The Umbra Regem exists.

The Umbra Regem is beautiful.

Missing are the rippling bulk of muscles in his mother’s stories; the patches of fur, the giant fangs dripping with saliva and unsuppressed hunger. Missing, too, are the scythe, the hood, or the bony, leathery wings in his teachers’ tales.

No, the mythical being has a distinctly human form: his hair as dark as night, his eyes as bright and warm as the stars in the ink-coated sky. When he rises from the sea of flowers, stalks of golden sundrops in his arms, his robes flow to the ground like a river coursing through the valley and plains, glowing in the light of the fireflies around him.

Viktor is so lost in the exquisite beauty that he forgets to breathe, his heart clinging to his throat. This one moment has given meaning to his work, made his life worth living. This one moment has made him realize that no mortal will ever satisfy or thrill him the way the Umbra Regem has.

And he only has minutes to savor it.

Inhaling, Viktor shifts, a hand pressed to his pounding heart—

—and steps on a dried branch with a loud crack that echoes through the meadow.

The shadow being whips round, robes flying, sundrops scattering.

“Who’s there?”

Viktor claps a hand over his mouth, swallowing the gasp that almost escapes.

Damn it, Nikiforov, he thinks as the Umbra Regem begins drifting, closer and closer, to his hiding spot.

“I won’t hurt you,” the Umbra says. “I just can’t have you remembering any of this.”

The kindness in the Umbra’s silvery voice is so incongruent with his words that Viktor lets out a huff of laughter.

In seconds, the shadows by Viktor shift, and tendrils of darkness coil and twist and twirl into a human shape – a most enchanting human shape. Up close, beautiful doesn’t begin to describe this being; not the way his eyelashes are a dusky smudge over his cheeks, or the way his eyes sparkle golden-brown in the light of the fireflies.

“Is that a bat?” the Umbra says, blinking.

Viktor hastily flings the bat to the side, heat rising to his cheeks. “No, it’s a, uh, just, ah… a safety precaution? No,” he corrects as the Umbra’s mouth forms a tiny ‘o’, “Not a safety precaution, just um. Uh.” He swallows, breathes, while the Umbra’s gorgeous eyes twinkle at him in puzzlement. “Can we start over? That wasn’t my best introduction.”

“Oh! Um.” The Umbra clasps his hands together in a gesture of nervousness. “This is a first for me too, so… sure?”

Viktor exhales. He’s really not sure why his heart is racing or why it feels so important for him to make a good impression, but it is and it does. “I’m Viktor.” He offers his most winsome smile. “And you are?”

The Umbra Regem hesitates.

Then, shyly, face going soft:

“My friends call me Yuuri.”

They talk, briefly. Viktor shares about his life project, his interest in the moon and the sun and, well. In Yuuri. He takes in Yuuri’s sweet flush, answers Yuuri’s questions about how he made his calculations, why he chose to pursue a silly little myth.

Soon—far too soon—the darkness begins to lift, and light trickles over the meadow, rays of the afternoon sun peeking past the edge of the moon.

Viktor leaves, seconds later, with a stalk of sundrop in one hand and Yuuri’s fading smile—I can, maybe, take your memory next time?—tattooed in his heart. ((To be continued…))

Xxx

The wedding date arrived, and the princess, Anna, looked flawless in her white dress, with the big diamond ring on her finger, and her bright smile. Yuuri did his best to look somewhat happy, but his solemn expression only changed for an instant, when Victor approached them to congratulate the happy couple

He couldn’t stand the hypocrisy of the people who surrounded him, so in an impulse, he ran away and hid in the Imperial Gardens. His shoulders shook, and he sobbed quietly when two strong pair of arms embraced him. Yuuri didn’t need to turn around to know who was there with him, and immediately, relaxed against his lover’s chest

“Let’s run away,” Victor whispered, “this country doesn’t need you. My family wouldn’t care if I vanish one day, please Yuuri, I’m begging you.” The urgency of his voice broke Yuuri’s heart, and he knew, if he turned around to face him, he would accept on the spot

Victor understood, so he let Yuuri go, regarding him with a kind smile. “If you change your mind, I’ll be waiting for you at the deck before midnight. If you don’t come, then I  will return to my country, so you won’t have to worry about me anymore.

Victor walked back to the palace, leaving Yuuri behind

“My Prince, you’re here!” the high-pitched voice of Anna, startled Yuuri, who quickly wiped his eyes off. “Let’s go inside, your father wants to speak with you.” Feeling numb, Yuuri let his wife drag him inside

Xx

He didn’t have to give it much of a thought, and without looking back, he abandoned the banquet and ran to the deck. He waited for Victor, and when he showed up, the Russian prince gave him one of his famous heart-shaped smile, the kind of gesture that was reserved only for Yuuri’s eyes

“I can’t live without you, Victor,” he shyly said, and Victor took his hand, “I promise you, zolotse, I will work every day to make you the happiest man alive.

“This is an atrocity!” Anna’s voice broke their bubble as she approached them with fire in her eyes. “How can you betray me with him?

“Anna, you don’t understand,” Victor tried to reason with her, but Yuuri placed a hand on his arm, a signal to let him deal with her

“I am so terribly sorry that you had to find it out like this. But I can’t stay here, Anna. It won’t be fair for either of us.

“I don’t care about fairness! You betrayed my country and my crown. And you mocked me. Prince Katsuki, you deserve a worse fate than death itself.

The princess pulled from behind her back a knife, but the attack wasn’t directed to Yuuri. She aimed at Victor. Yuuri, upon realizing this, with quick reflexes, pushed his lover away, receiving Anna’s anger. The sharp blade cut through his chest, causing, on the young prince, a fatal wound. Terrified, Victor moved to Yuuri’s side, cutting his hand in the process of extracting the knife

“I damn you! But you, the man who wanted to take him from me, you will get the worst punishment. You will live for an eternity, and you will find Yuuri again, when he reincarnates, only to see him die again. Remember my words, and never forget what you did to me!

Victor ignored the princess, his sole attention was focused on his beloved Prince, who was struggling to breathe. “Please don’t go. I love you, Yuuri, please!” Yuuri coughed, a trail of blood slipped through his lips, and with his last breath, he softly whispered, “I will always love you, Victor.”

The guards found the Russian prince, cradling the lifeless body of the Japanese prince against his chest.

Two weeks later, Anna was executed, and no one heard from Victor ever again

Ooooo

United Kingdom, 1870.

Being an immortal was… Weird. But Victor managed. He traveled often to avoid people’s questions regarding his beauty and age. He didn’t grow older, so he would look forever like a young man in his mid-twenties.

Almost twenty years had passed since that fateful night, and he wasn’t entirely sure if the words of that woman carried any true, at least, about her curse on Yuuri. Although he would never forget his biggest love, Victor was content that he had found eternal rest.

Or so he thought.

Xxx

Victor loved books, and he spent his evenings in the local library. Absorbed in his reading, he didn’t notice a man who took a seat next to him.

“Would you mind if I take this book for a moment?” A foreign voice said, and Victor made a gesture with his hand to go ahead. Then he looked up, and the words didn’t leave his mouth. He looked at him, his fair skin and auburn hair were a nice feat, but his eyes, the warm chocolate that he had only see once, was there. Victor could only stare.

Yuuri was alive. Not like the soft boy that he had met back in Japan, but his soul was there. Victor’s own soul was calling for him.

He raised a pray to the skies and thanked the mighty force that made this possible.

“Thank you,” the man said, and Victor barely nodded. The other man, with auburn hair, took his material reading and walked to another bookshelf.

Victor returned the next day, at the same hour, and the same young man walked in front of him, but he didn’t stop to look at him or to talk to him, like the day before. Did Yuuri forget about him? About their promises of eternal love? Victor shook his head at that thought. No, his Yuuri couldn’t forget him.

One evening, tired of waiting, he finally decided to talk to him. He got up from his spot where he frequently sat, and approached the desk where the young man was working, and waved his hand. The young man looked at Victor with a frown, but then ignored him.

“Yuuri,” Victor said in a quiet voice and, miraculously, the man immediately raised his eyes. “Oh my God, Yuuri! You remember me!” He extended his arms to hug him, but he stepped back. “You’re mistaken, Sir. I am Ben, and I have never heard of a Yuuri.”

Ben gathered his book, and turned away, abandoning the library. Victor followed promptly, determined to talk with Ben, no, with Yuuri. In a hurry, Ben crossed the street, and his keys slipped from his pocket. He crouched down to pick them out, ignoring the car that was oblivious to the presence of a man in the middle of the street. “Yuuri, look out!” Victor yelled, but it was too late. The car hit Ben, causing him an instant death.

It was funny. Yuuri couldn’t remember him, but Victor did. And he would also remember the second time that he lost him.

Ooooo

Rusia, 1917

Being an immortal meant that he could see with a fresh perspective the places where he lived once. So, the obvious choice was to return to his homeland for a time. He settled in St. Petersburg this time, near the train station.

Also, he had the chance to fall in love with different incarnations of his Yuuri. This time, his soul cried for a woman, and even if his preferences were clear since he was just a teen, Victor couldn’t ignore the way she moved in the store, her red lips and bouncing curls, and her shy smile directed at him every time he entered the small business. She was a seamstress and Victor always had a new excuse to bring her one of his suits.

“Mr. Victor, the buttons are fine. You’re not a careless man, are you?”

“Not at all, Miss Lena.”

“Good, because the tear on this pants wasn’t an accident.”

“I have a very valid reason, you will not believe it.”

“And what is it, Mr. Victor?”

“I’d like to ask you and your father permission to court you.”

Her cheeks turned into an adorable shade of pink, and her chocolate eyes looked at him almost as if her soul could recognize him. “My father and I have a trip planned for a month, and our ship sails tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, I see,” Victor frowned, clearly disappointed. Lena quickly placed her hand on his arm, and Victor felt as if his soul was singing with happiness. “I will talk to him, and in a month, you can discuss it with him properly.”

Victor nodded, eager to wait. He had waited for Yuuri for half a century and more, a month was nothing in comparison.

Xxx

Just as promised, Victor returned to Lena’s small store, and her mother delivered the bad news. The ship sank on the gelid waters, and the bodies were yet to be found.

Victor cried that night. His Yuuri never learned to swim.

Ooooo

Spain, 1936

Being an immortal has its pros. For example, Victor had the chance to experience new careers. This time, he dedicated his time to painting portraits. He would ask random people on the streets to model for him, and he would pay them. Some of them thought he was a pervert, others accepted, interested in what the strange man had to offer.

Victor, on his part, believed that he was closer to Yuuri.

He painted women and men. Some smiled at him, and others remained serious throughout the whole process. Then, one evening, a man, not much older than Victor himself, showed at his door. “Señor Nikiforov, I am Marcos, and I need this job.” Victor smiled at the young boy but avoided looking at him. Since the incident with Yuuri’s first incarnation, Victor promised not to be so reckless. He couldn’t carry the guilt again.

“Alright, please take a seat there,” Victor pointed at the couch near the window and prepared his materials. “I hope you’re aware that this is not a formal job, it’s a one time job only.”

“Oh, yes, yes, that’s fine. I need the money for my younger brothers.” Marcos told him, fidgeting with his sleeve. “That’s generous of you, Marcos,” Victor absently said, sitting on his preferred chair, grabbing his pencils, and started to draw the lines of the young man upper body on the paper. He did a fairly quick job, but when he reached his face, he had to stop for a moment. Those bright, brown eyes stared at him, and his lips were adorned with a serene smile.

Victor had to leave the room to compose himself. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, he wouldn’t pressure him. If the soul of this body could feel how Victor’s cried for him, then, eventually, he would remember him.

Yes, that was a far more decent plan.

“Tell me more about yourself, Marcos,” Victor asked when he returned with a glass of water for him and the model. He learned that, in this life, Marcos had three brothers and two sisters. His father worked in the mines and her mother stayed at home. He had worked since he was a child, but the money wasn’t enough for the eight members of his family, so this was an opportunity that he couldn’t miss 

Then, Marcos agreed to return for another session, after Victor offered to pay him the double. With the money in his pocket, Marcos shook Victor’s hand, and something flashed in his eyes, something that Victor couldn’t decipher right then. But whatever it was, Victor considered a small progress.

A week later, the civil war within the country started, and Marcos never returned to Victor’s studio.

Ooooo

America, 1979

Being an immortal was lonely, but it gave Victor a chance to do something useful with his time. For example, he did social service in the local hospital, a couple of blocks down his apartment. He usually visited children, they were innocent, and Victor, despite the situation, found himself energized, he smiled more, and the small girls loved his heart-shaped smile.

“Victor, I’m glad you came! We need a big favor.” The nurse Marla greeted him, but her face was somber. That could only mean one thing.

“Sure thing, lead the way.”

“His name is Jose. He arrived here a couple of weeks ago, but the person who brought him here abandoned him. The doctors have given up any hope for him. He’s high on morphine, so it’s very unlikely he would wake up until…”

“I understand, Marla. I will call you when it happens.”

After all this time, Victor was used to the smell of death and disinfectant, proper of a hospital, but he could never get used to seeing someone die. In fact, he envied them. They could rest and wait for their next life, not like Victor, who was stuck in this world.

He approached the only occupied bed in the room, dragged a chair to sit close to the bed, and started reading out loud. He chose one of his favorite books, The Little Prince.

The hours passed, and the night fell on the streets. The room was dimly illuminated, and, though Victor never stayed this late, he couldn’t leave Jose alone. Whoever he was, he deserved to have someone by his side when the inevitable happened.

Victor leaned back against the plastic chair, rubbing his eyes, tired. And then, he heard him.

“I have missed your voice, Victor,” Jose struggled to talk, but his words wear clear. Victor, in shook, dropped his book and jumped from his chair to kneel by Jose’s bed. “My Victor, it’s been too long…”

“No, Yuuri, not now…” Victor, shakily, took Jose, no, Yuuri’s hand, kissing the bruised knuckles, “Why do you have to remember me now?”

With the little strength that this body still carried, Yuuri smiled, using his other hand to run his fingers through Victor’s hair. “It is a blessing and a curse. I finally find you when I’m about to leave,” he whispered, with a calm proper of someone who knew that his time was running out.

“I will find you again, my Yuuri, and will do this right,’ Victor promised with an edge of desperation on his words, but Yuuri shook his head, “No. Victor, I don’t want your soul to be tied to mine anymore. Forget about me, please,”

“But Yuuri. –“

“Please, Victor, for me. If the gods allow us to be happy, then be it. But until then, I don’t want to be the source of your pain.”

“My Yuuri…”

“I know, Victor. I love you, too.” With his last breath, Yuuri smiled at Victor.

He couldn’t do anything but gaze into Yuuri’s eyes for the last time until the life was gone for his body.

Minutes later, the nurses found Victor in the same position, kneeling by Jose’s bed, grasping his hand against his chest, and crying uncontrollably.

Xxx

When he left the hospital, Victor walked numbly to his apartment. The rain was pouring outside, and he was soaked, but he didn’t care. At least, he was feeling something. He looked up at the skies, feeling, for the first time in decades, angry at whoever was doing this to them.

“Why?” He demanded as if someone could give him an answer, “Why do you take him from me every time? My only mistake was to love him!” Victor stubbornly stood under the rain for hours, earning confused looks for the people that passed by.

The rain stopped, and he made up his mind. It was time to find another place to live.

Ooooo

Sochi, 2015

Being an immortal was worse than death itself.

Victor had opted for loneliness, and, once again, returned to Russia, where he started practicing one of his favorite sports, ice skating. It wasn’t hard to get back in shape, and he quickly won the attention of one of the best coaches in St. Petersburg, Yakov Feltsman. Soon enough, he was notorious on the ice skating community, and five consecutive gold medals later, he became Russia’s living legend.

Even in his solitude, Victor found a little bit of his heart on the ice.

And when he dared to perform “Stay Close to me,” people applauded his excellent choreography and skills, but no one stopped to ask why he longed to find the part of his soul that was missing. No one really cared.

And then, reality came crashing into him, hard.

People loved this Victor, loved his ability on the ice, loved his charm and his seductive smile, but no one knew about the man behind the mask, the man who had lost his beloved in multiple times, no one knew how badly he struggled to keep living a life that wasn’t his.

But he kept skating, winning, and crying.

Xxx

His world turned upside down the night of the banquet at Sochi.

There was this man, a Japanese skater, very drunk and very fun to look at. He pole-danced like a pro, and was bold enough to defy Yuri. Who was this man that, with just a gesture of his hand, had Victor on the dance floor dancing with him? Of course, he knew him. He needed to know his competitors. But he never paid attention to his eyes. It was only then, when the Japanese man wrapped his arms around his neck and asked to be his coach, that he really saw him. The warmth in his chocolate eyes was unmistakable. And Victor awkwardly stood there, letting him grind against him until Celestino came to collect his drunk student.

Yakov mumbled something, and for the sake of appearances, Victor agreed with him. A moment later, he ran from the banquet, from the press and the sponsors, and in the safety of his room, he allowed himself to break down.

“Please, no,” he begged to no one, to the gods, to whoever might be listening to him, “He deserves to live. Please, this is my burden to carry, not his. Let him enjoy this life. Let him live.”

Outside the window, in the dark sky, a flaming white trail lit up the night sky. In his sorrow, Victor didn’t realize that, finally, someone had listened to his pleas.

Xxx

Months later, fate seemed to enjoy his twisted little game, or so Victor thought when he received the link of a video of a man who was reprising his program “Stay Close to Me”. His eyes widened, observing how his legs moved through the ice, and how his eyes, the same beautiful chocolate eyes that used to look at him lovingly, told a story. The story of an incomplete soul and a broken heart.

Two days later, he booked a flight to Japan, and his new journey began.

Xxx

Being Yuuri’s coach was a challenge. With his anxiety, his sudden changes of emotions, insecurities and a wonderful talent that overflows, there were days when Victor wondered what he could do for him as a coach.

“I just want you to be Victor!” Yuuri demanded one day when Victor inquired what he wanted from him. People always liked Victor for who his appearance, not for who he truly was deep inside. And if that was what Yuuri wanted, Victor would gladly give that to him. His Yuuri didn’t remember him, but for once, Victor was content to spend his time with this reincarnation.

And, even if he wasn’t counting on it, he fell in love again, with this Yuuri, his Yuuri, and his ability to create music through his body, and the surprises that he had under his sleeve. Just like the day when he performed his free program in the Cup of China, when Victor felt that his heart was about to burst, and he did the only logical next thing: he kissed him, a weird push of lips, but a kiss nonetheless.

Then, Yuuri graced him with a ring. Maybe for Yuuri, it was just a lucky charm, something to look at and remember his coach and friend, but for Victor, it meant so much more. A ring that was full of promises, of ‘what if’s’. Victor hoped that he could spend a little bit more with this man, this Yuuri. But for now, he would cherish the time they had left.

Xxx

Katsuki Yuuri, proud GPF finalist, and silver medal winner, laid his head on Victor’s chest, tired after performing Stay Close to Me with Victor. That was their song now, their promise to meet each other in the middle, and Victor wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Victor?”

“Yes, Yuuri?”

“Can you tell me more about your life?”

“There’s nothing interesting, Yuuri. I’ve spent most of the time on an ice rink. My parents are out of the picture. Makka is my only family. What else would you like to know?”

“I meant your whole life, Victor. Could you tell me about Spain or Russia? I don’t remember much about the UK, either.”

Victor felt his blood freeze. He remembered him, but how? Harshly, he detangled his arm from Yuuri's form, and shot out of the bed, staring at Yuuri with a mix of horror and surprise. “Yuuri… You… How?”

“Does it matter, Vitya?” Yuuri got up from the bed and tried to reach out for Victor’s hand, but he roughly pulled away. “Vitya, please.”

“No, I can’t, we can’t do this, Yuuri. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me, Vitya, no this time, I prom. –“

“No! Don’t say it. You deserve this life, Yuuri. And if to keep you well and alive, it means for me to stay away from you, then that must be done.”

Victor dressed quickly, ignoring the burning in his eyes and the evident hurt in Yuuri’s. He didn’t want to be the cause of his death, he wanted Yuuri to enjoy this moment. And if that meant he should sacrifice his own happiness and wander around the world in loneliness for another century, then Victor would do so.

“Victor,” Yuuri spoke, with severity in his voice, “Minako agreed to be my coach while you train for your nationals. You should talk to Yakov. I don’t think he would enjoy coaching you via Skype.”

“Tomorrow morning, Yuuri.”

Victor closed the door behind him, and a muffled sob coming from inside Yuuri's room reached his ears.

Xxx

Yuuri’s family noticed the slight shift in their relationship. No, not the rings, but the way the talked to each other. How coldly Yuuri acted around Victor and the way his coach seemed to avoid him.

No one asked, though. They would figure it out. And as Hiroko told Mari one night, if their love was strong enough, even the gods would bless them with a second chance.

Ooooo

+1

Japan, 2016.

After they won their respective nationals, Yuuri with gold, and Victor with silver, the Russian returned to Japan to celebrate his belated birthday. Yuuko met him in the airport, Hiroko cooked his special katsudon, and Toshiya told him excitedly, what he planned to do with the onsen, now that more tourists visited their town. Minako shared her notes with Yuuri, and the Nishigori triplets showed him the videos that they recorded of Yuuri during his training.

Everyone was there, except for one person.

Victor excused himself, and went to the beach, knowing that he would find Yuuri there.

He saw Yuuri sitting on the sand, with his knees drawn up to his chest, and his arms circling his legs. His eyes were fixed on the ocean, mindless of what was going on around him. Victor sat by his side, stretching his legs.

“I remembered everything when you kissed me in China,” Yuuri said, without turning to look at him, “When you kissed me, something just clicked. I felt like my soul was complete again. I knew I missed something, but I didn’t know what it was. But then you were there, and your lips were so familiar, and… Victor, I wasn’t shocked because you kissed me in front of millions in international t.v., I was shocked because my previous lives passed in front of my eyes. I saw you during my wedding, when you console me, and then, in the UK, when you came to talk to me. I remembered your dumb excuses to come to my shop with one or two buttons missing from your jackets, and I remember the crinkle in your forehead when you were focused drawing my portrait. Hell, the worst was the last time. I was ready to go, but then you came to me and didn’t leave my side until I abandoned that body.

“Victor, you found me again, and this time, I’m not running away. I am sure that this time, the gods will allow us to be together.”

Victor swallowed down the knot on his throat, trying to find the right words. “And how are you so certain that this is not another trick?”

“I’m not certain of anything, Victor. But I have faith in you, in our love. Have a little more faith in us Victor.” Timidly, Yuuri grabbed Victor’s hand, and lifted it to his lips, kissing the golden band that Victor hadn’t taken off, not even once.

Impulsively, Victor leaned closer, kissing Yuuri, his Yuuri, softly, and sweet, and with an air of uncertainty. Yuuri smiled into the kiss, threading his fingers in Victor’s silver hair.

It felt good to be back home.

Ooooo

Bonus

Paris, 2036

The notes of their song filled the silence of their room. They waltzed at the rhythm of a duet that the came to know by heart. Their song, Stay Close to Me.

Yuuri rested his head on Victor’s chest, and Victor had an arm secured around his back, as the other held Yuuri’s right hand. Even in the darkish room, the golden bands shinned together.

They were celebrating their 20th anniversary. They got married in spring when the cherry trees blossomed. Their wedding was a small affair. Their friends, family, and fellow athletes accompanied them. When they said their vows, even Yurio shed a tear:

‘My Yuuri, I’ve been waiting for you for ages, and even today, I’m scared that you will slip through my fingers. But I trust you, and I know the gods had forgiven us for what we did. And in this day, I promise you to work hard for us, to give you the happiness that you were denied before. I promise you to love you and cherish you until the gods decide otherwise. And even then, I will continue searching for you, until we’re given another chance.’

‘My Vitya. You’ve been patient with me all this time. Even when I couldn’t see you, you were there, ready for me, waiting for me. And I can't imagine what you've been through all this time, the sadness and the heartbreak. So, today I promise you, my Vitya, that you won’t feel alone ever again. I will love you, in this life, and the next one, and if we ever had to be apart, my soul will wait for you, until you come back for me again.’

Their guests were too moved to even try to comprehend the meaning behind their promises. It was better that way.

“Vitya?”

“Yes, my Yuuri?”

“Are you still afraid?”

Even after all these years together, Victor would wake up in the morning, and his first thought was Yuuri. He would lean down and kiss his forehead. And at nights, Victor would stay awake for a little longer, just to make sure that his Yuuri was still there, with him.

But those little actions weren't out of fear. They were caused by wonder. It was hard to believe that after a century and a half, they were finally together.

And some of his fears disappeared one evening when he was looking at his reflection in the mirror and saw wrinkles on the corners of his eyes. He tackled Yuuri to the ground and didn't care that he soaking his shirt with his tears. When he calmed down, he explained Yuuri the reason of his cries. He was aging. The curse was finally broken.

They laughed and cried for the rest of the evening.

Over the past twenty years, Victor finally saw wrinkles on his forehead. His hair was thinner, and there were permanent dark circles under his eyes.

He had never felt more full of life.

“Some days,” Victor answered after a long moment. Then he took a moment to appreciate his Yuuri. His face was rounded, his black hair had greys now, and his body, softer without the figure of an athlete, but it never lost its grace. He was just as beautiful as the first time they met.

“But remember what I promised. I trust you and I have faith in us and our love.” Pleased with his answer, Yuuri nodded, trailing kisses down his cheeks and jaw and back up to his lips.

Viktor looked over at Yakov tinkering with the plans he was making for their escape, and was infinitesimally curious. It really did suit his aesthetic for one, though he supposed Yakov wouldn’t take too kindly to the statement if he ever made it.  He did wonder why they had to suffer for being impartial, but questioning always seemed to lead to downfall, and so he kept his mouth sealed this time.

The wings, their primary (and only, if you asked Viktor in his opinion) part of their escape, were magnificent even when laid on the worktable, partially incomplete. Viktor had to hand it to Yakov, the one thing that was exceptional about him was his mind, which was probably why his temple had no hair to it for need to contain it within its vessel. Hand raised to feel his own hair, Viktor hoped that the same wouldn’t occur to him. He also knew the hope was almost futile, but they were nothing if not dreamers making their minds creations come to fruition.

The wax dripped steadily from their candles, the only source of light within the confines of the tower. Yakov continued to weave through the feathers with his string, and Viktor yawned. He was tempted to try Yakov’s pair of wings, but knowing that any delay caused by an accident would only lead to their deaths he restrained himself, and instead gave in to the beckons of sleep brought about by ennui.

*************

“Hold still boy!”

The harshness in Yakov’s voice rings in Viktor’s ears as he complies, wishing that there was less fussing involved. However, their lives were at stake, and these fragile things were now at the mercy of four pairs of an assortment of feathers held together by wax and string. Yakov really did know how to gamble with their lives.

Giving Viktor’s chest a final ‘thump’, Yakov stood back to admire his handiwork before raising fiery eyes to meet Viktor’s solemn own.  “Now, before we fly off, you need to remember this. Make sure you do not fly too close to the sun, the heat it emits will melt your foundations and send you spiraling to your death. You must also make sure to not fly too close to the sea, for the foam will drag you down on each and every feather, and will capture you in its depths. Do you understand, Vitya?”

Grimly, Viktor nodded. This situation did not call for jabs under any circumstances.

Gripping his own pair of wings, Yakov stood wide and flapped them lightly, experimentally. “They seem to work alright. Let’s go.”

With a hop, slight shake and subsequent jump, Yakov and Viktor beat their wings for the first time to the tune of the escape plan from Crete.

*************

How Viktor had spent any part of his life not flying, he had no idea.

Whooping in delight, he felt the breeze simultaneously caress his hair and rush against his body, and he tilted his wings to enable a smooth glide on the current. Flapping his wings again, he twirls and flips, enough to make Yakov who is a few feet in front of him turn back in annoyance. Luckily, they had decided to not talk to each other during the flight for fear of distraction, so Viktor carried on undeterred.

City after city passed underneath, and with each one Viktor’s elation exponentially grew. After the third, Viktor tired of just flying on a straight route, a route so characteristically Yakov – the best route, but also terribly predictable. In other words, plain boring too. Lilia didn’t seem to be following (not that she could anyway, but it was a precaution Yakov had in mind) so Viktor let loose. He allowed the wind to collect under his wings and soon he was lifted higher, flying along side the clouds. From his vantage point, he could see the entirety of Yakov’s wings (and Yakov himself) and it filled Viktor with a feeling akin to power. Despite being taller, Yakov still towered over him in both reputation and mind, and it was hard for Viktor to make his mark on the world in a way that would truly make him Yakov’s successor. He let this feeling guide him, and soon he found himself looking down on the clouds themselves.

The surreal sensation of being able to gaze down on uncontrollable, untamable forces made Viktor so giddy that he failed to realize that a few feathers had fluttered off. Too caught up in the dancing wind and the momentary cooling sensation it brought, he failed to notice the rising heat of his surroundings and allowed his feelings to beat against the pull of the earth, the allure of the sky above too great to resist.  Higher and higher he went, and he forget everything but the vast blue ahead of him, surrounding him, below him. His heart pounded with the beat of his wings and for the first time in a while, his world sparkled.

An unnatural squelching sound pulled Viktor out of the depths of his feelings and he noticed the wax on his wings was melting, a great deal of it already lost to the world below. Horror pooled in his stomach as he realized that he had failed to follow Yakov’s most important instruction yet, and all he could do was watch as, all of a sudden, the feathers on his wings flew off - strings still attached. Body tilting backward, Viktor let go as he realized that there was no way he could salvage anything out of this situation, and he let the earth pull him back home.

As he passed the layer of clouds he noticed that he was above the sea, and extremely off of the planned course. Yakov might not have even realized that Viktor had gone astray, and Viktor wished that he could have seen him one last time. As the sea got closer, Viktor closed his eyes and prepared himself for the impact.

Just before the sea claimed him, Viktor felt a harsh tug in his chest. It caught him off guard, thus making the pain of hitting the sea feel worse than the piercing of a thousand needles.    

*************

Yuuri’s tail involuntarily flicks as he feels a harsh tug in his chest, and his mouth opens with a warm huff, scattering bubbles everywhere.

The currents change direction, and he curls his claws in slightly. He had been feeling better than usual all day, and he took this as an omen. Whether it was a good one or not he had yet to determine. Regardless, he let himself spread wider, further even going as far as sending scales along to waters he’s never dared to venture before. The change in currents was another omen, Yuuri felt, so he pulled on their invisible trail and opened his mind, letting the sensations of a thousand pools crash into him. Had this been a regular day, he would have been unable to bear the burden, but on a day such as this he could not only contain, but also control all coursing within him. It is because of this that he feels the crash of a body that occurs seas away, and without even thinking through it, guided by the tug in his heart, he pulls.

He pulls at the fragments floating above the body, he pulls at the currents to carry the body to him, he pulls at the tendrils of the soul accompanying the body to morph and follow it. He pulls and pulls and pulls, and he is lucky that his father and sister had arrangements to make in the world above, because he was so invested in seeing what this strange thing was that he had forgotten his own surroundings.

After an age, the body comes into view, and from this distance Yuuri can tell that it is human. He lets go of all connections but the one to the current bringing the human in, and only then does he allow his form to change, enjoying the swirl of his scales around him as he borrows their residual energy. Kicking his newly made legs, he closes the distance between them, and his breath instantly gets stolen by how the hue of this human’s hair resembles the glint of the pearls when stray rays of sunlight strike. The angles of the human’s face and body are worth admiring, and are definitely more defined than the human Mari got promised to. Yuuri gets a strange urge to see what the human’s eyes are like. Thinking about it though, Yuuri figures the urge is not as strange as he thinks it is. Amongst all the creatures that dwell on this planet, the most constant, and immediate determinant of the soul within the vessel is always through the eyes. It’s not the best method, filled with inaccuracies and inapplicable to all life forms, but it’s the fastest. And Yuuri wants to know more about his captivating find as soon as is possible.

Unfortunately, he has to wait for six moons before the human adapts to the waters of the middle ocean. It takes another three more for the humans body to implement its adaptations, and finally, after four more moons, does Yuuri see the blue of the surface in the depths of his waters, the slight residual twinkle in them sparkling with a shine brighter than the moon. Only when they briefly disappear does Yuuri realise he’s staring at the soul that’s driven his curiosity to the brink of obsession.

The human blinks multiple times, as if shocked by how finely he can control his movement at this depth. Yuuri watches on amusedly, and as the human grapples at his throat he realizes that the latter is more befuddled by his survival.

Swimming forward, he places himself directly in front of the human, finally capturing his attention. Yuuri quite likes the way his eyes widen, but decides to put the human at ease before indulging in his own fascinations. They have a lifetime to do so after all.

“You must be surprised, but don’t worry. I found you oceans away and I couldn’t help but bring you here.” Sensing the human’s own curiosity build, Yuuri continues, “I’m Yuuri, but this is not my only form.”

When the fourth traveler stumbled across the waterfall with a fiddle in his hand, Emil resigned himself to the fact that he would forever be known as the fiddle player. He sighed, cherishing the final few moments he had to himself before he heard what the man would ultimately play for him. He supposed it was human custom to assign a common trait to folks like him, however, the reason for such a custom always baffled Emil, and he could never really understand why humans were not happy with versatility.

Years became decades became centuries and, with the flow of time, Emil’s reputation grew. Travelers from exotic lands would hear of him and seek his audience, and Emil was always grateful for the company for the waterfall, while beautiful, was no companion. The fiddle rumor never lost its path, and Emil found himself not only embracing it with open arms, but also indulging in its benefits and carrying it further. There was only so long he could go by feeding on elk as a main source of protein, and even they were hard to find sometimes. Emil was nothing if not an opportunist, and so he demanded a price - as payment for obtaining knowledge. Even though he had never made any specific mentions, by the time the rumor returned to his ears he found out that he primarily gave information on fiddles and their music form, and that he mainly accepted food as a payment. He understood why his general statement had been twisted into something so precise, but he still found it amusing how humans picked up the right implications but applied it in hilariously inappropriate situations. And so, Emil, now popularly labelled the Fossegrimen by the locals, waited for company and pleasantries, always willing to exchange such for a price.

 ****

 A low, resonating hum broke through the barriers of the waterfall, and Emil lifted his head, curious. The humming grew louder, and as the volume increased so did Emil’s curiosity. However, one of his favourite quotes that he learned from travelers was ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ and so he held his patience. Soon, the humming gave way to a melodious song, whose words Emil barely registered as French. Despite the change, the volume inched higher and after a moment, it seemed that the source of the melody had situated itself on the rocks at the base of the waterfall. Even then, Emil waited, for he was sure that the source was a traveler who was trying to lure him out of his abode. He fingered the pages of the book he had abandoned but couldn’t bring himself to appear nonchalant as the waterfall parted to allow the source through.

As Emil noted that the traveler carried on his shoulders a bag big enough to carry all his belongings in it, the traveler himself shook droplets off his body, flipped his gold hair back and lifted a hand to scratch the brown strands underneath. With a perfectly crafted sheepish smile, the traveler said, “I suppose you are the Fossegrimen. I’m, um, quite lost, and was hoping if you could help guide me back?”

Emil’s eyes narrowed. “I could. And your name would be?”

The traveler’s smile relaxed. “Chris.”

Emil leans back on his armchair, “Christophe. I highly doubt you’ve lost your route but if you’ve lost your path then maybe I can help.”

The smile transformed into a smirk, “Ah. I should have realized how knowledgeable you are. And extremely intuitive too. I was certain I would only find a fiddle player of a caliber exceeding the Almighty’s.”

“Well. If you’ve heard of me you must know, I demand payment.”

“I have enough thaler for your needs.”

“What use would that be for me in here?” Emil gestured towards the waterfall. He thought long and hard. What would be the equivalent for his information? Oh, and he had to consider his hospitality too.

“I only need something that equals the value of what you receive. In that case,” Emil let his face slack and beamed at Chris, “I’ll take that beautiful roll of cheese and a lock of your hair!”

Chris took a step back, unable to restrain the shock from the request. “How did you know of the cheese? And why my hair?”

Ignoring his queries, Emil continues, “The only thing I can tell you for now would be to sharpen your senses. Not all is as seems in this world. Now now, stay the night! I would love to hear about your journey all over that block of cheese! And that wine! I have the perfect grapes to accompany them too.”

Victor was a creature of the woods, and he only lured people to his domains, so he could have sex with them, and feed on his essence, and if they wanted to return for more, Victor would be more adamant, until they die from extenuation. That’s what he had always done as a Hulder. But this simple mortal was showing him kindness, and something else, a strange feeling that was blooming in his chest. Victor nodded and offered Yuuri an honest smile. “In that case, Yuuri, tell me more about yourself.”

Victor didn’t complete his usual ritual with his guest, but he felt, for the first time, alive.

Ooooo

Yuuri, true to his word, visited Victor almost every evening. Most of the days, they would talk, tell the other about their days, their hobbies, their families (that was a sensitive topic for Victor, but he trusted Yuuri enough to tell him snippets from his past). But there were days when the silence was enough for them, and they sat together, watching the sunset, as Victor leaned his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, and Yuuri played with Victor’s delicate fingers.

And after a while, when they parted, Yuuri stood on his toes, kissing softly Victor’s mouth. Victor cradled his face, and caressed Yuuri’s cheeks, feeling the warmth spreading through his body.

A Hulder wasn’t supposed to act like this, to feel this way, and yet…

Ooooo

“Chris, it’s so good to see you!” Victor rushed to the blonde’s side, enveloping him in an embrace. Chris, who was also a Hulder, returned the gesture, moving his hands to Victor’s slim waist.

“Darling, you’re losing weight. Do I need to help you?” He asked, genuinely concerned about his friend’s well-being.

“No, Chris, is not that, I…” Victor trailed off, unsure of revealing what he had been doing over the past eight months. “I think I found him.”

Chris gaped at him, but he composed himself quickly, with a stern look, he said, “Victor, this is serious, last time you thought you had found him, he…”

“I know, Chris! I know, okay, you don’t have to remind me.”

Victor had a heartbreaking experience with a human in the past. He knew that, as a Hulder, the only way to break his wicked spell, was to make a human fall in love with him, and marry him. Only then, the marks that were carved on his black, resembling an old, rotten tree, and the fox-alike tail that hung from his lower back, would disappear, and he would be a simple human again. He knew it, so, when a man named Jean appeared on his door, he didn’t think it twice and seduced him. The man returned the next night, and the next, and he sated Victor. But one night, when the sheet fell from his body, revealing Victor’s form, the man accused him of witchcraft and ran away.

Victor never saw him again.

“But he’s different, Chris. I see  him practically every day.”

“That’s part of the charm, my love.”

“No, Chris, is not that. We haven’t had sex.”

“Wait… Then how did you enamor him?”

“Maybe he likes me for me, not for what I can do for him.”

His friend stared at him, trying to understand Victor. He wasn’t like him, he didn’t care about romanticism and sentimental stuff. But he had never seen his friend so sure of someone. Chris sighed, resigned, and took Victor’s hand, kissing the back of his hand. “Be careful, my darling. If he breaks your heart, I will break him.”

“Trust me, Chris, he won’t.”

Ooooo

“Yuuri, you seem tense today,” Victor mentioned casually, rubbing Yuuri’s shoulders and biceps. The young man let out a heavy sigh, leaning against Victor. “My parents owe money to a man, and he threatened us to kick us out of the hostel if we don’t pay him in a month.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Victor asked, kissing Yuuri’s temple.

“No, just being here with you is enough.”

Victor, however, was planning how to grace Yuuri’s family with a gift, that could help them not only to pay the money to that man, but also, to have a prosperous business. He hadn’t done it in a long time, but Yuuri’s kindness deserved it.

“Victor?” Yuuri’s voice broke his musings, and he returned his attention to the man in his arms. “I need to work harder to get the money, I don’t think I will have time to come here as I usually do.”

“Oh…” inadvertently, Victor tightened his hold on Yuuri's shoulders, but didn’t say more.

“Come with me, Victor.”

“What?”

“Yeah, come with me. In that way, I will be able to see you every night after work.”

“I… I can’t Yuuri. I can’t leave this place.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, alright? Please, don’t ask me more.”

Yuuri nodded, and stood up from the bed, Victor followed him. “I will be here when you have time, Yuuri,” Victor’s voice was soft, as he sneaked his arms around Yuuri’s middle. “I would love to meet your family. But not yet, okay?”

“Okay. Just be safe, I will try to come here soon.”

“I know, my Yuuri, I know.”

Ooooo

A month passed, and Victor hadn’t heard from Yuuri. He was restless, even Chris mentioned how sharped his cheekbones and jaw looked. He hadn’t feed properly since he met Yuuri. But he ignored his friend, even when he offered his help, Victor refused it.

As he looked out the window, Victor saw a shadow moving towards his cabin. He raised from his seat, ready to launch at the intruder.

“Victor, are you in there?” a female voice called his name, and carefully, he opened the door. He used one of his practiced smiles to greet her.

“Wow, it’s true. You’re beautiful,” the woman said, and Victor locked his gaze with hers, noticing a familiar chocolate color. “I’m Mari, Yuuri’s sister, and you need to come with me.”

“Is Yuuri okay?” The smile faded from his lips, and his voice trembled. Mari shook her head, “No, he’s in the hospital. Sir Dubois came a couple of days ago, and he tried to hit our mother. Yuuri protected her, but the man grabbed his pistol, and he…,” Mari swallowed hard, trying to continue her story, “Doctors say he won’t survive another day.”

“I can’t leave this place,” Victor whispered, feeling the tremors running down his body.

“Please, Victor. Yuuri told us about you and how much he cares. Please, if you love him just a fraction of how he loves you, you will come. He deserves a last goodbye.”

Victor knew that if he left the woods, he could be easily spotted. His magic was strong, but the woods was the place where he took most of his power. But Yuuri, his Yuuri, he couldn’t stand there, knowing that he might never see him again. Without another word, he grabbed his coat, and accompanied Mari to the city.

The hospital was humble. The Katsukis didn’t have the means to have their son in a better hospital, and when he got to Yuuri’s room, it almost broke his heart to see a small woman crying her eyes out.

“Mama, he’s here.” Mari announced their presence, and the woman lifted her head up, and did her best to greet Victor with a smile. “Oh, Vicchan, my Yuuri has told me so much about you. I’m glad you could make it here.” Victor nodded, “He means a lot to me, ma’am. I’m sorry I wasn’t there…”

“Nonsense, my son. You couldn’t have done anything anyway. Do you want to see him?”

“Yes, please.”

Hiroko led Victor to Yuuri’s bed, and then she left the two of them alone. His Yuuri looked so fragile, pale, with dark bruises blooming on his face. He took a seat on the chair next to the bed, and careful not to disturb him, he took his hand, and pressed it to his cheek. “Please, don’t leave me Yuuri, please,” then, using his last resource, he placed his hand on Yuuri’s chest, where the bullet had left a hole that wasn’t closing. He prayed to the same god that turned him into a monster, to let him use his magic on him, to let him save him.

Nothing happened.

He prayed harder, and the tears poured from his eyes, and his sobs grew louder. He felt lost. If he couldn’t cure him, then what was he doing there? The labored breathing suddenly stopped. His chest didn’t move anymore. The nurses came rushing to Yuuri’s side, and a doctor had to drag Victor out of the room, where he found an inconsolable Hiroko. He dried his eyes with his sleeve.

“Where can I find him?” Victor asked, controlling his voice.

“Victor, whatever you’re planning. –“

“Answer my question!” He demanded then, raising his voice.

“In the tavern, but Victor. –“ He turned around, and didn’t listen to Mari’s warnings.

Ooooo

He knew how to move around the city. He was quick and quiet, and he waited for the man to show up. Then, he saw him. Earlier, he made the connection that Sir Dubois was the same man he had found years ago.

Victor made himself visible and dragged Jean to the dark alley. His back hit the wall, and Victor held him by the neck. His pale fingers turned into sharp claws, ready to tear him apart. Luckily, the man wasn’t intoxicated, and he loved the clear fear in the man’s eyes.

“Oh, Jean, long time no see,” he purred, smirking widely.

“You, you fucking witch, let me go!” Jean tried to break his hold, but when he attempted to move, one of the Hulder’s claws pierced his skin, drawing blood. Victor leaned down, licking the blood. “Delectable, as always. Now, do you want to know why I am here?” The man shook his head fervently, and Victor chuckled. “Well, that’s too bad. But I’m going to tell you anyway. You killed the man I loved, you disrespected his family, and overall, you’re a heartless bastard.”

“K-katsuki? Did you and that pig. –“ Victor clenched harder, shutting the man up. “I won’t tolerate more disrespect. You’re going to apologize and forget their debt, and you will do it tonight, or else.”

“I’m not afraid of you. –“ the man dared to say, and Victor grinned like a madman, showing his fangs. “Well, then I suppose, I can always convince you.” With his free hand, Victor took a hold of Jean’s hair, and put his mouth upon the other’s in a forceful kiss. He bit Jean’s lower lip, breaking the skin, so he could taste the coppery taste. When Victor pulled apart, the gaze of Jean was clouded, dazzled and disoriented.

“And when you’re done, I will be waiting for you in my cabin. Don’t be late.”

Victor released the man and started to walk away.

A couple of hours later, Jean showed up on his doorstep, and no one heard from him ever again.

Ooooo

In the early hours of the morning, a couple of knocks woke him up. He used a robe to cover his body and attended the door. “Victor, it is a miracle!” Mari, unexpectedly, hugged him, and he frowned in confusion. “When you left, the doctor thought it was over, but then my little brother opened the eyes He hasn’t stopped asking for you.”

“But I saw him…”

“So did I, but he’s alive, Victor! Please, he wants to see you.” Victor had his reservations, but he accepted to go with Mari again. He dressed quickly behind a curtain, and Mari looked away. He took the same long coat that he used the night before, and followed Mari.

If she saw the strain of blood on the coat’s sleeve, well, she didn’t mention it.

Ooooo

“Oh Vicchan, please, come this way!” Hiroko jumped from her seat when she saw Victor with Mari. He already knew the way, but he allowed her to take his hand and led him into the room. When he set his eyes on the hospital bed, he almost fainted. There was Yuuri, looking expectantly at him, with a bright smile. The bruises and wound were still there, but his face had more color.

“I’ll be outside,” he heard Hiroko said, but was still too shocked to try to move.

“Are you going to stand there?” Yuuri asked, his voice was still hoarse, but he was well, and alive, and Victor dashed to the bed, and brought the young man to his chest. “I thought… I saw you,” he babbled, but he was quickly silenced by Yuuri’s soft lips. The chase kiss didn’t last more than half of a minute, but for Victor was enough. He offered him a watery smile as Yuuri pressed his forehead against his.

“I couldn’t leave you alone, Victor.”

“I know my Yuuri, I know.”

Ooooo

Victor stayed by Yuuri’s side for almost a week, until he was released from the hospital. The doctors were pleased with his progress, so it was of no use to keep him in bed. However, when Toshiya, Yuuri’s father, asked him to stay at the family hostel, he had to refuse. He needed to return to the cabin, to get his energy back. Also, staying in the city was dangerous and tiresome. A bad move, and someone could spot his tail.

Yuuri promised he would visit him soon.

And he did, but he chose the worst timing possible.

Victor, fresh from his bath in the lake, returned to his cabin, naked. With an old drag, he was drying off his long hair, closing his eyes. But a sharp intake of breath broke the calm that he felt. Yuuri was at the door, and there was no way he hadn’t seen him.

The confused look on his rounded face, almost broke his heart. Now that Yuuri knew, he was sure he would abandon him. He could convince him to stay, but Victor loved him way too much to have him against his will. He just stood there, waiting for his reaction. For something, holding back the tears that were welling in his eyes.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you walk naked, Victor,” Yuuri chided him gently, then he pushed open the door, and entered the cabin. Victor, bewildered, walked the rest of the steps to the cabin, and closed the door behind him.

“Why?” He asked, but he didn’t clarify the question. Yuuri, who seemed so incredibly calm, looked at him, “My mama cooked our favorite dish, and since you couldn’t stay with us, she asked me to bring this to you. She’s so grateful for all your help, and thought it was the last she could do.”

“No, Yuuri, why? Why are you here? Why aren’t you running away?” Victor, on the verge of tears, demanded an answer, and Yuuri bit his lips, unsure of how to continue.

“Victor, I’ve known you for months. I’ve spent more time here than on my own house. You think I hadn’t noticed it before?” Victor gasped, and brought his hands to his cover his face. “Hey, look at me, please,” Yuuri stood in front of him, touching his arms with his fingertips. Victor shook his head, and Yuuri sighed. “It’s a shame. If you don’t move, I will have to eat this alone. Not that I complain, but my mama’s katsudon is the best thing you will ever taste.”

“Why aren’t you angry or scared?” Victor lowered his hands slowly, and Yuuri used the chance to wrap his arms around Victor’s neck. “I love you, silly, that’s why.”

“But Yuuri, I am a monster.”

“A monster doesn’t care. A monster doesn’t love. And I know what you are. And you helped me and my family. If you were a monster, I wouldn’t be alive, here, with you.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor cried openly now, the sobs wrecked down his body, and he hid his face on the younger man’s neck. Although the position was weird, due to their height difference, Yuuri didn’t mind, and did his best to try to console the Hulder.

Once Victor had calmed down, he shyly kissed Yuuri’s lips, and he responded instantly. The intensity of the kiss grew, and Yuuri, in a bold move, picked Victor up, carried him to the bed.

They made love, passionately and ardently, and for that evening, Victor felt complete, like a man and not a monster.

Ooooo

Six months later, they organized a small ceremony, with Yuuri’s friends and family. Christophe came, of course, and promised Victor to behave.

After the wedding, when Yuuri and Victor were dancing, Yuuri touched Victor’s lower back, feeling that the tail was gone. Victor had told him that once they were married, he would lose the tail and the magic, and Yuuri accepted him in any way.

“Yuuri?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Are you going to love me even when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”

“Hey, Seung-il!”

Seung-il squeezes his eyes shut for a minute before exhaling and turning around. “JJ.”

The God of the Sky claps his back, and lets out a hearty laugh, which booms in Seung-il’s ears as he winces. Not noticing, or perhaps not caring, JJ continues, “Heard that this is your second trip to the surface?”

“It is.” He would have glared at JJ, but not finding the energy to do so, Seung-il settles for his standard vacant expression, knowing that it would irk him.

JJ seemed to be in too great of a mood, for he did not even notice Seung-il trying to get to his nerves. “Do you know what would make your visit even greater?”

Narrowing his eyes, Seung-il suspects that he’s going to be dragged into something ridiculous. He tries to discreetly wiggle out of the arm JJ had slung across his shoulder during their short exchange, but JJ tightens his grip and pulls Seung-il in closer. “You should pay Nature a visit.”

“Why would I want to pay that insufferable woman a visit?”

JJ chuckles, and it’s low and quiet enough to raise Seung-il’s hairs on end. “No no, not her. You’ve not met her son Phichit have you.”

The gears turn, and when they click in his mind, Seung-il shoves JJ away. “No. What are you even thinking? Have you gone senile?”

“Now.” JJ’s voice has regained its loud boisterous timbre, but it doesn’t reassure Seung-il in the slightest. “Why deny something when you don’t even know what you’re denying?”

 -*-

A few hours later, in JJ’s private chambers, Seung-il nods once.

JJ laces his hands together, elbows resting on their respective armrests. “I’m glad. But there is the matter of preparation.”

 -*-

Phichit, along with Guang Hong and Leo, scampers down one field of many, laughing into the atmosphere. It had been a while since he had seen either of the two, and it was good to get away from work every now and then. To be able to let go of his inhibitions, of his duties, just to run freely under the wide, blue sky was something he loved to do. To have company was even better, and all Phichit feels is his heart bursting with raw joy as he watches the two nymphs run around with him.

A slight sway of grass just at the periphery of his vision catches his attention, and on turning, takes in a spread of one of the cutest flowers he has ever seen. Yellow at the middle, very much akin to a crown, nestles at the center of innocent, child like petals, white as the flare of light. And a whole sea of them too! Phichit couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help drifting toward them and collecting them, whispering prayers of thanks to forces greater than him for creating these treasures. So engrossed is he in them that he doesn’t notice the growing distance between his friends and his position, and is still unaware of his surroundings as the earth beneath him slowly gives way. It is as he is plucking the four and sixtieth flower in his impressive bouquet does he feel the ground under his feet to be unnaturally thin, and when it does give way seconds later, he can barely let out a cry of distress. The last thing he sees of the world above are the innocent flowers watching his fall, his friends nowhere in sight.

 -*-

Seung-il stares at his newly wedded spouse and wonders where exactly did he go wrong.

He had followed JJ’s plan to the T, being reassured that this was the way most people on the surface preferred to be courted nowadays. Yet here he was, just married and already feeling as if they had spent a wary eternity together.

Maybe pulling in an unsuspecting field frolicker was a bit too much, but that had not dampened Phichit’s spirit. In fact, he had seemed incensed, and had had no problem marching up to spit bitter, angry words directly at Seung-il’s face. Too caught up in the awe of being in his presence, Seung-il had not paid attention to what his love was saying. He felt a little guilty for that now, as a subdued Phichit pokes at the rug by his feet, clearly devastated about his predicament.

Just as he felt ready to address Phichit, a loud bark resonated through the chamber. Perking his head up, Phichit turns to the sound and Seung-il watches his every move as Cerberus bounds his way to the latter’s feet. Seung-il can’t help the rush of affection that courses through him every time Cerberus is close and doesn’t hesitate to reach down and loop his arms around Cerberus’ middle head.

It feels like seconds have passed before he hears the sound of a pointedly cleared throat, but when he turns his head, Seung-il sees that Phichit has moved so far forward that if he just lifted his arm, he would be just shy of stroking Cerberus’ fur. Time must have gone by faster than he had realized, Seung-il thinks with shame while Phichit, with his eyes locked on the hell hound, says, “I didn’t realize that something so terrifying could be this adorable.”

Seung-il doesn’t blame him for finding his one and only friend terrifying, it was an unspoken requirement in his job description after all. However, Seung-il was glad to find that he wasn’t the only one who found the sight of three heads trying to nuzzle him stupidly adorable.

Then Phichit turns to meet his gaze, and there is a glow in them that sparks something inside Seung-il’s ashen heart.