Chapter 1: Mundi Origo
Chapter Text
My soul is wrought to sing of forms transformed
to bodies new and strange! Immortal Gods
inspire my heart, for ye have changed yourselves
and all things you have changed! Oh lead my song
in smooth and measured strains, from olden days
when earth began to this completed time!
- Ovid
On the morn of the Summer Solstice, in front of a crowd of thousands, Yuuri Katsuki dies.
When Yuuri was sixteen years old, he destroyed his uneasy detente with the sea, the entity he had previously valued in appreciation directly proportional to the distance between them, by plunging head-first into its raving depths on a particularly chilly winter night.
Of course, Yuuri’s previous preferences of staying the hell away from the sea and its seductive depths, didn’t lend itself very well to the very practical pursuit of knowing how to swim or even float while surrounded by water higher than his shoulders, but how hard could it be? Yuuri thought grimly, as salt water bit his eyes and the cold nipped his skin. He could feel the ever reliable strength of the ocean current assert its dominance over Yuuri’s young body.
Any other day, Yuuri would have considered being sacrificed in Poseidon’s realm a just punishment for his lack of foresight, only the reason for Yuuri’s aforementioned lack of foresight shrieked, the sound seeming to echo in the clouds as they flashed blue with raging electricity.
Yuuri held his breath with firmer resolve, fists clenching, as he waddled his way to the child who was wailing at the sky for assistance, like he was appealing to the gods themselves to save him. The night raged on, somehow urged on by the child’s wails, the sea becoming more and more violent the louder the child got.
Yuuri could taste the salt as the water hit his face with the force of a slap.
By Poseidon’s grace they hadn’t died yet, but it wouldn’t be long before the sea claimed them.
Yuuri had to get to the child before that happened.
He had to.
The burn in his legs and arms lessened, as Yuuri was filled with sudden strength with the force of his resolve, giving him the energy he needed to shoot across the distance separating him from the child, and envelope him in his arms.
The child wailed louder.
There was a rushing sound, Yuuri looked up only to see an enormous, serpentine wave curled over him. He tightened his grip, and held on to the wiggling pile of limbs.
After.
After what seemed like Poseidon’s himself decided to punch them in the face with knuckle rings, Yuuri emerged, dragging himself on the sandy floor of the sea, heavier still because of his dripping clothes, shoving the now limp body in his arms along.
He coughed up sea-water, urgently rolling the young body to its back, and checked for signs of life.
A weak heartbeat.
Yuuri, careful of his strength, now more than ever thankful for Minako’s lessons, steadily delivered the necessary weight to the child’s chest, willing his heart to beat louder. Muscle memory taking over his frantic mind and heart. He pinched the child’s nose, and shared his own breath with him, praying to the gods to be merciful.
The night’s air turned colder and the sky grew lighter, as Yuuri continued the firm movements, uncaring of the hour.
“ Please, please, please, don’t die, please don’t die, please, please, please ” Yuuri chanted under his breath, his sixteen year old mind struck with the unfairness of a mother losing her child, especially one so young in age. Yuuri wondered if this child, with wet hair made dark by the treacherous sea water, had a father, or if he was like Yuuri. Who would mourn him if he breathed his last, here, in Yuuri’s arms?
The air grew warmer. But Yuuri paid it no mind, inured to the burn in his own lungs, as he tried to share his life with the child. Yuuri kept pumping his palms to a steady beat, willing life into the tiny body.
So frantic was he, that he jumped into the air, landing to crouch protectively over the younger body when a searing heat hit his shoulders.
Yuuri looked up wildly, only to be blinded with radiance.
He hissed and flinched, curling up against the child. He was ready to fight the intruder if necessary, but needed to take a small break from the bright light.
“Easy, easy, little hero. It’s going to be alright now,” A smooth voice said, the syllables of the spoken words resonating within Yuuri’s bones,“ I am here . ”
I am burning up , Yuuri realized belatedly. He must have expended more strength than he realized, trying to revive the younger boy, for his body to be protesting so vociferously.
Yuuri clenched his eyes shut, the dried salt in his face crunching uncomfortably.
He could smell smoke. The chill seeping into his bones warring with the heat coming off of the intruder, he could hear the rushing of the sea and the smooth skin of the child underneath his fingers.
Yuuri opened his eyes.
He was in his bed at home, dry as a bone.
Yuuri gasped, shoving off of his bed, and looked around wildly.
He saw his childhood room in his childhood home in his childhood town, away from rising seas and soothing strangers.
Yuuri brought his hands up to his face, covering his mouth; they were trembling.
He could still smell the sea-salt in the crevices of his hands.
No fable made famous by the Greeks is to be neglected.
- Hippolytus of Rome, Philosophumena
Yuuri never told a soul about the night he almost drowned.
He never talked about the blinding heat of the stranger, or how he wound up in his room in the blink of an eye, or how his body felt like it was still underwater for days afterwards.
Or how his dreams were overtaken by silver. How every night he flew, skating through the air on metallic wings with a mysterious partner, how he colored the sky with the tips of his fingers and was enveloped in a warm cocoon of laughter and heat every time he drew closer to his dancing partner.
He told no one, not his mother (Who would panic at him being near the sea, after her repeated warnings to stay away from the water), nor his sister (who would slap him on his head for jumping in without knowing how to swim).
He only forced a smile as he woke up from another particularly warm dream draped in visions of silver skies, one lunar cycle after The Incident, as his mind christened it, as his mother brought in his birthday cake wishing him good tidings in a voice so dear that it didn’t matter that it was off-tune.
He didn’t say anything as Minako rushed in, hair flying every way, screaming about the Titan Lord of the Sun.
He affected casual nonchalance as Minako’s sharp gaze pinned him to the floor, speaking words of faux mutual amazement and wonder, as his gut rolled with suspicion, as he remembered the heat emanating from the stranger that night.
The Titan Lord of the Sun had saved them all , The villagers cried to one another, their celebration so loud that surely even the gods themselves could hear it in their realms.
“What do you want for your birthday, Yuuri?” His mother asked, eyes bright with silent relief as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders, “We have double the cause to celebrate!”
Easy, easy, little hero. It’s going to be alright now, I’m here.
Yuuri looked around, at the laughing villagers, at Minako drinking them all under the table, looking younger than her years; at his sister leaning against the wall, coolly detached, if you didn’t know to look underneath to the naked relief in her gaze; at his mother, unburdened for the first time in years, and he thought of soaring through the clouds, silver skies and of painting the clouds.
He came to a decision.
“Mom, I want….no, I need… your leave.”
Hiroko smiled blithely, unaware of what Yuuri was going to ask of her, “Leave for what, my love?”
Yuuri steeled himself, “I need your leave. I want to attempt The Labours. I want to become a Hero.”
The restaurant quietened.
They turned to look at them. Yuuri was trembling with the force of the gaze, but he held firm with visions of silver skies.
He was doing the right thing.
But even that didn’t prepare him for the blankness in Hiroko’s expression. The bleakness in her eyes.
Yuuri could feel his soul falter at his mother’s sadness. He opened his mouth to say something, anything.
A hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up to see Minako’s keen gaze, stable despite the liquor she had consumed.
She lifted his right arm, and loudly declared with a voice that resounded with the finality of temple bells, “May the gods light your way home!”
The declaration seemed to shatter the glass atmosphere, as the villagers echoed the ritual statement, lifting their drinks to the heavens and shouting their support.
Yuuri, with his arm still lifted in a vice grip, saw his mother’s lips tremble for a second before she echoed the shouts.
And if her voice shook, no one was cruel enough to call her on it.
For after all, sending a son off to die was enough to do that to a mother.
Chapter 2: Moving The Hands of Fate Itself
Summary:
Yuuri comes home.
Notes:
Hey guys!
Thank you for your kind words and support :)))
I have a surprise bonus chapter in the works for everyone who commented in the last chapter. It will be sent out soon, but till then enjoy the next chapter in the fic!
Thank you to my lovely beta Adrianna99, who is a marvel and a gift to the world <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yuuri pushed back his hair, the sweat from the heavy heat plastering it against his forehead. He squinted up at the bright sky, adorned in rich purples and reds, as the sun began its journey home to rest after a hard day’s work.
In Yuuri’s more fanciful moments he would imagine he could see the golden chariot with the fire-darting steeds, of the Titan Lord of the Sun as it flew across the evening sky, gently nudging the evening to night; when his gentle sibling would shine the luminous light of the moon on the mortal plane.
“ Yuuri! ”
Yuuri startled. He looked away from the ombre evening sky, to see a lean figure cut across the crowd, their body taking advantage of its leanness to gracefully twist around the people, somehow managing to not touch any of them. Not that they would have minded, Yuuri mused, as he saw his mentor and someone he considered - in his more sentimental moments - a second mother, run to him, face still retaining its youth and vitality, fetchingly flushed from the exercise.
“Please move! Can’t you see I’m trying to welcome a Hero home?” Minako said testily to a particularly stubborn man unmoved by her charms.
Yuuri sighed.
Here we go.
“What are you talking about lady?! Calm down!” The man said, equally annoyed.
Minako’s face bristled, as she said with her nose pointed up, “Yuuri Katsuki? Icarus ? I’m sure you’ve heard the name, if not personally, then by reputation. That is him. Now, if you would move I would like to welcome him home after 5 years of undergoing the Labours.”
The man moved aside.
Yuuri sighed louder.
Not that it mattered, as he was subsequently squeezed with vicious strength. The same vice grip that had raised his arm and was the first to wish him successfully home, the person who had believed in him before he believed in himself…..was here, clutching him tightly to her bosom, like he was going to fly away any moment.
Yuuri felt his eyes prickle, and his arms, as if detached from his will, flew to wrap around Minako’s frame, which was slighter than he remembered it being. He could smell sea salt, a smell that seemed to first belong to Minako and then the sea. At the first whiff of the scent of what he knew to be home and strength and safety, his hands clenched around Minako’s clothes without his permission.
His soul hummed with renewed strength, bolts of calm energy bouncing off his bones.
He was safe.
"Rhodes, Phoebus' [Helios the Sun's] favourite."
- Ovid, Metamorphoses
Yuuri accidentally tuned out Minako as he reveled in the feeling coursing through his body.
He felt…..safe, a concept that had eluded him as he fought for his life for five years, undergoing the Labors. The feeling of being protected that he got from being around Minako, like a benevolent god was on his side, that no matter who he met through his travels could recreate.
He had left five years ago, a boy of sixteen, and returned a Hero. Someone capable of protecting his village and people. Someone his family could be proud of. Someone of worth.
“Yuuri! Stop daydreaming! Don’t think you can become too old or god forbid, too Heroic for me to not pull down your pants and spank you!” Minako’s clear voice bubbled, the mirth obvious through the faux outrage.
Yuuri spluttered at the conjured image, blushing a furious red as the nearby passengers swerved to give his bottom a considering gaze at the overheard statement.
“Minako...” Yuuri cried out weakly through his fingers, as they clutched his face in despair. Cancel that, he was returning to his Journey. The years had dulled his memory about how good Minako was at humiliation that only family could ignite.
Yuuri decided to save his nostalgic musings for a more appropriate time and settled in to give Minako his full attention, tips of his ears still faintly red.
“Alright. Sorry, Minako. I am listening now.” He said turning his body towards her, smiling widely.
Minako blinked, face blanking for a second. Yuuri was taken aback by the minute expression she had let slip.
“Minako?” He asked unsurely.
She blinked, and smiled widely, teeth showing, “Sorry, little duck, I forget sometimes.”
Yuuri felt a corner of his heart warm at the childhood nickname, and he said, with his lips quirked slightly up, “Forget what?”
Minako’s eyes flashed, as she smiled, teeth still bared, looking more like a shark, like those from the storybooks Yuuri used to read growing up, and she said in a voice that echoed with eons worth of memories, “I forget you’re your father’s son.”
Yuuri felt the statement chase away the warmth in his bones, leaving him cold and empty, his lips flatlined.
Minako’s expression softened, and she said, “It’s not a bad thing, little duck. No matter how many Journeys you go on, you cannot run from your past. It defines you, it made you who you are. Wear it with pride, so that no one can use it against you.”
Yuuri felt the fierceness of her tone as a physical weight on his body, as if she was trying to hammer it into his skin from words alone.
He stayed silent.
For what could you say about being compared to a man who had married and abandoned his mother after giving her two children to take care of? Who had left her with hollow smiles and shattered dreams.
Of course, seeing as how Yuuri had abandoned his mother the same way, all to seek his own fortune, maybe Minako wasn’t so far off with her judgement.
Like father, like son.
The chilly thought stayed with him the rest of the way.
The island of Rhodes was entirely consecrated to Helios.. Here an annual festival (Halia) was held during the summer in his honour, with chariot-racing and contests of music and gymnastics; and four consecrated horses were thrown into the sea as a sacrifice to him
“Yuuri, look! There it is! The Rhodes Aureole!” Minako’s voice cut through his dark thoughts.
Yuuri straightened, everyone in the cart leaning out to catch a glimpse of the famous sculpture dedicated to the Titan Lord of the Sun.
“This is the first time you’ve seen it, isn’t it? Since it was constructed after you had left.” Minako continued, voice deceptively light, putting Yuuri on guard. He had seen actual Sphinxes with less of a sense of incoming danger entwined in their voices.
Yuuri hummed noncommittally, wanting to see where she was going to take this train of conversation.
“Tell me, Yuuri, does he actually look like that in real life?” She continued.
Bingo.
Yuuri let out a shaky breath silently, as he said lightly, “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen him. No mortal has ever been in his presence and has lived to tell the tale. You know that.”
Minako hummed, and distractedly said, “Right. Foolish me.”
Yuuri licked his lips, putting Minako’s weird behavior out of his head, as he looked at the sculpture before him. As large as a small hill, with a handsome - if rather old - bearded Titan on a chariot drawn by four horses, stood naked with his arms stretched up.
As if he was calling the earth up from the sea.
“You know, I wonder what moved the ever elusive Titan Lord of the Sun from his golden chariot enough for him to give a shit about puny mortals.” Minako mused.
Yuuri looked at her in shock and quietly exclaimed, “Minako!”
Minako looked back blithely, “What? We all know it’s true!”
Yeah, but you aren’t supposed to say it. No one - not even other Immortals - could even hint at disparaging Immortals, especially not the Titan Lord of the freaking Sun.
But Minako had always had more courage in her tiny body than entire armies combined. Yuuri worried for her, if any of the Immortals had heard her…… well, the result wouldn’t be pretty.
Tales of caution were practically made up of mortals who thought they were better than the Immortals, and they all paid for it in the end. For their hubris, their criticism, their pride.
Minako continued, unaware or perhaps uncaring of the scared looks she was starting to get from the other passengers in the cart, “We all know that the Immortals only care about where they can get their next lay, or -”
Yuuri was glad that the rest of her sacrilegious statement was drowned out by the humming of the passengers in the crowd, as they tried their best to drown out Minako’s voice.
Minako, clearly affronted, spoke louder, to Yuuri’s despair.
Yuuri felt like he needed smelling salts. If Minako carried on so, even a hive of bees wouldn’t be able to stop Zeus himself from hearing Minako, and smiting the two of them (because it will be a cold day in Elysium before Yuuri let anyone, even Zeus himself, hurt Minako. Anyone who had a beef with her, would be going through him first).
The humming increased in volume.
Yuuri felt an incoming headache.
But somehow, maybe it was by the grace of the overlooking Aureole sculpture looking out for them, they made it past Rhodes to Hasetsu in one piece. The passengers in the cart practically running away like Scylla herself was out to grab them from their seats. Not that Yuuri could blame them.
“Honestly!” The reason for his headache said.
Maybe it was the strain of the day and the accompanying emotions, but Yuuri, despite himself felt laughter bubble up his throat. He trembled with the urge to contain it.
“Aw, Yuuri, don’t cry. I’m sorry!” Minako said, tone full of reluctant unhappiness.
Yuuri let his mirth show, frame shaking at the force of his laughter. Clear laughter spilling forth, filling the air with echoes of his amusement.
Minako startled.
She thumped his back approvingly, and with the pride of a lioness, boomed, “There you go, little duck. Not so little anymore, are you? Soon you’ll be drinking with the big kids.”
Yuuri laughed harder.
Oh if only you knew, Minako.
“I can always count on you to leave him smiling, Minako.”
Yuuri’s laughter stopped at the soft voice. He straightened, and turned his body towards the sound.
“Ma?”
Hiroko Katsuki smiled, lines on her face - that had not been there the last time Yuuri had seen her in flesh, five years ago - deepening with her smile, as she gently said, “Welcome Home, Yuuri.”
Yuuri smiled, tears finally giving up the fight, wetting his cheeks. He ran to his mother’s arms for the first time in five long years, and whispered in her ear the answering call.
“ I’m home. ”
"And Theia was subject in love to Hyperion and bare great Helios (Helios, Sun) and clear Selene (Moon) and Eos (Dawn) who shine upon all that are on earth and upon the deathless Gods who live in the wide heaven."
- Hesiod, Theogony
“So, are you here for the Tournament?”
Yuuri looked up, to see a figure leaning against the restaurant’s wall.
“Is this how you greet your brother for the first time in half a decade?” He teased, ignoring her question.
The answer was obvious, anyway.
Mari’s lips twitched. She flicked her hand and crushed the cigarette in it.
“Hmm, gotten gutsy have you? Who are you and what did you do with my crybaby brother?”
Yuuri smiled widened, feeling all of sixteen again, not a hero, but a brother with his older sister who he thought the world of, “Nah, he’s still here. He just has more muscles now. Stops people from calling him a crybaby to his face.”
Mari’s face broke into a smile, like sunlight through the trees, as she lilted out, “Won’t stop me, little brother, won’t stop me.”
Yuuri said, softly, “I’m counting on it.”
And just like that, the five years of voluntary separation disappeared, and the Katsuki siblings were together again.
Funny how family works.
Speaking of, Yuuri turned towards his mother who was bustling around the inn like a hummingbird, lightly dusting and cleaning to ease her excitement of having her son home.
“Ma, I invited a friend to come visit the inn, is that alright?”
If possible, Hiroko’s eyes brightened even further, as she leaned forward so much that Yuuri worried that she would topple over. Broken bones were no small thing at her age and he readied himself to catch her if necessary.
“A friend! Is this the young boy that traveled with you during your Journey? The handsome, clever one? Oh! What was his name…?” She exclaimed.
“Daedalus. The Mechanic .” Mari offered in a neutral tone.
Hiroko jumped slightly at the familiar name, “Oh! That’s right! Daedalus ! What a dear, dear boy!”
Yuuri smiled slightly and said fondly, “Yeah, I met him during the second Labour, and we traveled together from there on. He wanted to go visit his family first before coming here, since he would be here for the Summer Solstice.”
Hiroko’s expression dimmed, “Summer Solstice?”
Yuuri drew in a breath, as he wondered how to navigate this emotional landmine of a conversation.
“Yes. He’s my friend, but he’s also one of the best mechanics in the world. I need one….If I am to compete in Halia’s Air Skating Tournament.”
The atmosphere staled, Yuuri could hear Mari pull in a deep breath at his indelicacy and at the confirmation to her earlier question. But, brutal honesty has never failed him before, and the only way to get through this conversation was by running head-first through it.
Hiroko smiled, the stretch of her lips not hiding the way her eyes shined or lips shook.
“Of course, dear. You are a Hero, of course you would want to participate in the Tournament. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you,” she said shakily, supportive till the end.
Yuuri held in a sigh.
"The Korinthians (Corinthians) say that Poseidon had a dispute with Helios (the Sun) about the land [which god should possess Korinthia], and that Briareos (Briareus) [the storm god] arbitrated between them, assigning to Poseidon the Isthmos (Isthmus) and the parts adjoining, and giving to Helios the height above the city."
- Pausanias
“Yuuri! Over here!”
Yuuri turned towards the voice to see a tan hand visible over the heads of the crowd, waving as its owner jumped up and down.
Yuuri felt a thrill shoot through him at the familiar sight. He moved towards the hand, which was still jumping in place. Yuuri felt a jolt of wry humor as the other passengers carried on, ignoring the tiny boy, carrying what seemed like an entire army’s armory on his back, jumping up and down. Despite Yuuri’s travels, the disinterested enthusiasm of a crowd in a travel station would never fail to amuse him.
Yuuri, used to the sight, delicately extricated his friend from the crowd, pulling him to the side where the current of the crowd wouldn’t carry them back to the mainland.
They emerged from the crowd, breathless and more rumpled than before.
Yuuri took a second to catch his breath, willing his heart to quieten, cursing his ever-growing distaste for crowded places. Being a Hero didn’t lend itself well to claustrophobia. Sometimes it seemed like nothing in Yuuri’s body lent itself to being a Hero; he was constantly fighting his body every step of the way to reach when he wanted to go.
Yuuri started to let out a sigh at his dismal thoughts, only for it to transform into a high-pitched squeak as his friend caught him in a tight grip that belied his tiny frame.
Yuuri gasped, “ Phichit! ”
Phichit, the foremost authority on craftsmanship and invention, only grinned wider as he squeezed Yuuri tightly, teasingly lilting out, “Hush you, I have been deprived for days from my daily Yuuri hugs! I demand compensation!”
Yuuri let out an affronted shout, only to dissolve into helpless light giggles as Phichit’s breath tickled the sensitive flesh of his throat, aided by Phichit’s head being nestled near his throat.
“ Phi-chit !”
Phichit only grinned, clever dark eyes gleaming brightly, “That’s right, say my name. Let the world know the famous hero Icarus hath been defeated by a scrawny nerd.”
Yuuri blinked, unimpressed, and poked Phichit’s side, finger ruthlessly targeting the tender parts sensitive to the onslaught of tickles, “They won’t be saying that once they learn what an irredeemable imp you are, Phichit.”
Phichit giggled and raised his hands, palms facing out, in the universal declaration for mercy.
Yuuri straightened, bad mood all but erased from his mind. He half-wondered if Phichit had done it on purpose, seeing as he seemed to almost have a preternatural ability to sense the train of Yuuri’s thoughts.
After all, that was what made them such good partners as well as friends.
“Oh, geez. I didn’t expect it to be so crowded! I hope my babies are still safe,” Phichit exclaimed suddenly, consciously patting the pack on his back (that seemed to be bigger than him) like a mother tending to her newborn babes.
Yuuri stood to the side and waited for Phichit to be satisfied with his appraisal. Yuuri took a moment to look around the station, where people from all walks of life, in all manners of dress, were bustling in an effort to get somewhere. He blinked. This station hadn’t been this busy when he had left for his Journey, that was for sure.
Of course, Rhodes had only emerged the day Yuuri had left for his Journey, on the day of his sixteenth birthday. In Yuuri’s more whimsical moments, he entertained the thought that Rhodes might have been a gift for him on his birthday, at least until his rational mind brushed off the ridiculous thought. What reason would the Titan Lord of the Sun have had to care about some dime-a-dozen mortal’s existence, nevermind his birthday ?
But nonetheless, Yuuri, despite his unfamiliarity with the terrain, viewed Rhodes with almost territorial pride. His eyes chased the frothy waves moving along the sand until they crescendoed into the base of the Rhodes Aureole trying to get the hard won land to yield some space.
Yuuri’s gaze moved up to the ever-steady statue and lingered. What reason could the Titan Lord have had to save Hasetsu? What was so compelling in Hasetsu that would gain favor in a Titan’s mind? Yuuri hadn’t heard of any surprise illegitimate births, neither by man nor bird nor fowl, that had stood out as divine intervention.
“Damn, that is one old dude.”
Yuuri bit back a flinch. Why did he insist upon surrounding himself with heretics that had more audacity than sense?
“I wonder how he -”
“Phichit! Would you like to walk to Hasetsu? It’s only a short walk from Rhodes’ station!” Yuuri said, with faux-cheer lighting his voice, trying to distract Phichit from whichever godless way he had intended to end that flash of curiosity.
Phichit turned with a grin as bright as Greek fire.
Yuuri bit back a sigh of relief.
What does Zeus care, or the rest of his gang?
- Sappho
“So, what’s Hasetsu’s story?”
Yuuri turned his head only to see Phichit look at him with that look in his eyes. The look that had almost always resulted in Yuuri eating something that should not have been consumed in the spirit of Discovery, or figuring out how to battle a monster while unclothed, with a fifty-fifty chance of either scenario happening.
To be fair, for every keen-eyed look Phichit had given him over the course of their friendship that resulted in him being dragged off into lands no man would brave to venture, Yuuri had matched, in both fervor and trouble caused.
Sometimes, Phichit’s curiosity had even born fruit, saving them from trouble as Phichit talked his way out of being eaten by a monster in the guise of harmless gossip.
Yuuri feared to think which scenario this question would yield this time.
He licked his lips, wondering how he should answer this question. For this time it wasn’t some enemy combatant Phichit was trying to get information about, it was Yuuri’s home of sixteen long years . Phichit looked on patiently, well aware of Yuuri’s need for introspection and distaste for wasting words when unnecessary.
“Phi, while in Hasetsu, you cannot - and please trust me on this - say anything bad about Rhodes, or the Titan Lord of the Sun, or Poseidon. I ask you this as a personal favor. Give me your word on this.”
Phichit looked at him sideways, not bothered by the segue and clasped Yuuri’s palm, squeezing it. Yuuri nodded in acknowledgement.
He took a long breath and began his tale.
“The town you will see today was not always like that. Five years ago, Hasetsu was on the brink of death. We were a poor island nation who worshipped Poseidon, cut off from the mainland, in need of supplies and money. But we had nothing of worth to attract either.”
Yuuri looked at Phichit, who was looking at him completely, his frequent habit of fidgeting ignored in favor of giving Yuuri his absolute attention. Yuuri carried on, emboldened.
“But one day, out of the blue, the land we now call Rhodes arose out of the sea, bearing the seal of the Titan Lord of the Sun. It connected us to the mainland and subsequently saved us all. Hasetsu was suddenly flooded with Helios’s, the Titan Lord’s, devotees, eager to witness the proof of his majesty. They came in droves, stayed in our inns, and ate in our eateries. Helios gave us a spectacle to showcase, and brought us devotees who spent their money in our land. He saved us all, giving us a second chance.”
Phichit hummed, and said in a far-away voice, “I wonder what could have induced Helios himself to save a poor island which could offer him nothing in return. Especially considering the island in question was Poseidon ’ s territory. Everyone knows that Helios has a rivalry with Ares, Aphrodite and Poseidon. For him to save Hasetsu, well... the reason would have to be pretty big indeed.”
Yuuri stayed silent not wanting to add greek fire to the already kindling speculation by confessing that Rhodes rose out of the ocean on his sixteenth birthday. It’s not like it was relevant, Yuuri told himself sharply. It wasn’t an untruth. It was just…. a minimalist approach to conveying the information.
“Then what happened?” Phichit chirped, with all the enthusiasm of a babe listening to a folktale.
Yuuri continued, “With some of the money Hasetsu received, they built the Rhodes Aureole that you see in front of you.” Yuuri gestured, feeling very much like a tour guide, as Phichit’s head swerved to take in the statue in all its naked glory.
“You know, I can’t help but wonder…” Phichit said in a considering tone. Yuuri resisted the urge to flinch. There it was. The famed cunning and cleverness. Yuuri shouldn’t have tried hiding anything from the man said to be cleverer than Hephaestus himself.
“I mean, I know that it’s to show the virtues of mind over the virtues of flesh or whatever, but I can’t help but wonder if Helios really has such a tiny d-”
Yuuri started singing loudly the first song that came to his mind, which unfortunately was a dirty little ditty about fishermen and sirens, drowning out what was sure to be Phichit’s last words if Helios were to hear him.
The people walking nearby startled and turned around in unison to give Yuuri a dirty look. Like he was the pervert!
Honestly, the things Yuuri had done to keep Phichit alive while he was in his curious mood.
Yuuri quietened as his voice, unused to the strain of singing, became hoarser, burning his throat from the pressure. He fell silent, cautious; prepared to jump in and continue singing if Phichit gave even the slightest indication of continuing his line of thought.
But he need not have worried.
For Phichit was too busy laughing at Yuuri’s expense.
Yuuri glared hotly.
“I’m s-sorry! You should have seen your - and then you started singing!” Phichit cut his sentence off, overcome by another shriek of laughter.
“Need I remind you of your oath, Daedalus,” Yuuri said primly.
Phichit straightened, still grinning, teeth bright and cheery, “If you do so, Icarus, I would be forced to remind you of the terms of our condition. I can’t say anything bad while I’m in Hasetsu. And we,” Phichit pointed to their feet, which had stopped shy of the border, “Are not in Hasetsu. Thus, I would claim that my oath has been kept.”
Yuuri sighed, charmed despite himself, “All that cleverness and you use it to get out of trouble for speculating on the size of someone’s-”
“Yuuri! There you are!”
Yuuri clenched his mouth shut with sudden force at the familiar voice, uneasy for his mother to be burdened with the knowledge of her youngest comfortably talking about matters of the flesh.
Phichit and Yuuri shared a look, silently agreeing to a draw of their match, and they turned in unison to greet Yuuri’s mother.
Yuuri settled back and watched his mother greet his friend from his days Journeying while they all stood in his childhood town that was no longer felt like his childhood town. He could see the two worlds that he had so far kept separate collide. And if the way they hugged each other was any indication, it was going to be an enthusiastic collision.
"When Sol [Helios the sun] reported this [Aphrodite's affair with Ares] to Vulcanus [Hephaistos], he saw them lying there naked, and summoned all the gods who saw . . . To Sol's [Helios'] progeny, however, Venus [Aphrodite], because of his disclosure, was always hostile."
- Pseudo-Hyginus
“So, what’s the game plan?” Phichit asked Yuuri from his perch on Yuuri’s bed.
Yuuri looked over and faux-innocently said, “Game plan, whatever do you mean? Can’t a friend call another friend over to his home with no ulterior motive?”
Phichit let out a stream of air from his mouth, and rolling his eyes said, “Yeah, a friend. But I’m your best friend and mechanic. So, I ask again, what’s the game plan ?”
Yuuri grinned, wild and free. He leaned towards Phichit and said with a voice that rang red, “I need you to make me wings. Strong enough to let me take to the air, but nimble enough to keep me in it.”
Phichit’s eyes widened.
Yuuri continued, voice’s fervor crescendoing with every word he spoke, “This Halia, a festival that celebrates Helios, I will win the Air Skating Tournament by not needing a pegasus to navigate myself in the air. I will be bringing my own pair of wings.”
Phichit gaped as Yuuri clasped him by the shoulders, looked him in the eye and said with a voice that seemed to move the hands of the Fates themselves, “ Make me wings of my own .”
Notes:
I appreciate any and all comments, feedback and suggestions, but if you don't know what you would like to comment, here are a few questions I would appreciate answers to:
1) Is the writing style alright? Does it flow/read right/is understandable? I am experimenting with a new way of writing, so I wanna know what's your impression of it :)))
2) What unanswered questions do you have about this fic? such as, things you /need/ me to address for you to be able to get any sleep at night ;)
3) What scene would you like me to write next as a bonus scene?
[EXTRA CREDIT] 4) What do you think of the characters and their characterizations in the fic?
Chapter 3: The Head That Wears The Crown
Summary:
Phichit prepares, Minako rages and Yuuri steels himself.
Notes:
Hey guys!
This fic just... keeps getting longer and longer??
I just wanna write a good ole death scene, but this fic keeps slapping me with more and more characterization and feels???As always, Adrianna99, you are the Phichit to my Yuuri. My mechanic: making my airborne dreams take flight <3
Thank you.Happy reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Yuuri, you know I believe impossible is a social construct.”
Yuuri smiled comfortingly, humoring his friend, “Yes. I do. Which is why I think you’re the person for the job.”
“You do? Good. That - that is good. But Yuuri, making a pretty clock is one thing. But figuring out the mechanics of the first ever human flight? That’s...That’s venturing into Immortal territory,” Phichit said, his usually smooth voice breaking and stumbling.
Yuuri softened. He didn’t like to see his brother in all but blood this way. “Phichit, you know I would never willingly put you in danger. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, if there is even one misgiving in your mind, I will let this go.”
Phichit spluttered, “One! Have you not been listening? My mind is full of misgivings, it is nothing but misgivings!”
Yuuri looked back steadily, “Is it? Putting aside your fears of not being able to conquer mortal flight like you’ve conquered everything else, is there even one misgiving in your mind?”
Phichit paused. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Paused some more.
Yuuri said, mien softer than before, “If there is anyone in the world capable of it, it is you, Phichit. Daedalus. Now, tell me the truth. I will be flying this Halia one way or another, will you be flying with me?”
Phichit looked back, face pale, looking his age of eighteen for once in his life. Yuuri returned his gaze calmly, aware of the strength of the claws of insecurity and invisible fears that the mind could conjure.
And then Phichit smiled, slowly, like the sun peeking out at the blush of dawn, and with it rose Yuuri’s hopes.
That night, Yuuri dreamt of silver skies.
Helios was regarded as the inventor of the four-horse chariot, a natural association given the Greek believed the sun-god drove a chariot across the sky.
With a week to Halia and the Tournament Phichit set to work, sequestering himself away in his room and sending Yuuri off on errands.
“My, my, your boy sure keeps a tight leash on you, Yuuri,” Minako said one evening after a few days of watching Phichit give Yuuri his marching orders for the day before going off to rest.
Yuuri’s mother’s head popped up from behind the restaurant counter, suddenly interested in the topic of conversation. Yuuri could feel sweat bead the back of his neck at the heavy weight of the gazes of his mother and mentor. He laughed uneasily, “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”
Yuuri’s mother’s shoulders sunk a little in disappointment, but Minako’s expression remained sly as she said in a deceptively light voice, “It tends to start out like that. But we all saw you during the Labours. You trust each other.”
Yuuri rolled his eyes, “That’s not all that is needed to enter a romantic relationship, Minako.”
Minako looked back, ageless eyes swimming with unknowable depths. “Isn’t it? You’ll be surprised at how often trust is missing in relationships. It shouldn’t be taken for granted.”
They stared at each other, uneasy (on Yuuri’s end) and steady (on Minako’s). Yuuri wasn’t sure what Minako was hinting towards this time.
“Well then, Yuuri. Was there someone else? Someone you met during your Journey, perhaps?” Hiroko’s sweet voice cut in, eager and calming.
Yuuri reddened as Minako’s face settled back into her usual expression.
“No. Ah… My Journey was - There was no one other than who you all saw.” Yuuri mumbled, offhandedly thinking that even heroes were not exempt from humiliation via the mother figures in their lives.
“Not even that Siren? You two seemed friendly.” Minako piped up, a familiar note of gossip in her voice.
Yuuri’s mother hopped up and down excitedly at the reminder, bubbling out, “Oh! She was so lovely!”
“When she wasn’t trying to kill Yuuri, that is.” Minako injected humorously.
Yuuri’s mother clapped her hands and said fiercely, “Oh, but she apologized for that! You mustn’t hold it against it, Minako! She was just doing her job, like you and me.”
Minako rolled her eyes, gracefully leaning against the table with her elbows on her knees, “Yes, but unlike you and me, her job is to lure unsuspecting sailors to their death.”
“You can’t fault someone for their nature, Minako. Some people… are not like you and me. They have other duties and responsibilities they are beholden to,” Yuuri’s mother said, her voice losing its color over the course of the sentence.
Minako looked at Yuuri’s mother wordlessly, exchanging glances that spoke of shared history and pain.
Yuuri bit his lip, wishing that his mother could have stayed happy, even if it was at his expense.
But some memories weren’t so easy to hide from.
“Yuuri?”
They all blinked as a bleary-eyed Phichit stumbled in, with sleep-mussed hair and crinkled clothes, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Yuuri got up and walked towards Phichit, directing him towards a table his doting mother was already setting up with food.
“Yuuri?” Phichit’s voice sounded plaintive, young.
Yuuri squeezed his shoulder with the hand resting on it, “I’m here, Phi.”
Phichit sighed, and with a quiet tone in his voice said, “I have something to tell you.”
Yuuri could feel his back straighten at the tone, Minako and his mother’s gazes too fixed on his young friend. Yuuri felt a twist in his stomach, heart thudding rapidly.
Phichit looked up, dark eyes wide and shiny, full of something Yuuri couldn’t identify.
“It’s ready.”
Yuuri felt his heart lurch as Minako made a questioning sound, but all Yuuri could see was the brilliantly burning fierceness in Phichit’s eyes.
“It’s ready. Come Halia, Icarus will fly, with the gods themselves as his witness.”
Yuuri closed his eyes, fisted hand falling open by his side, a somber peace settling over his bones as the inn exploded in a cacophony.
Yuuri breathed.
"Hephaestus gave many gifts as a thank-offering to Helios (the Sun), who had taken him up in his chariot when he sank exhausted on the battlefield of Phlegra [in the war of the Gigantes]."
- Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica
“Have you lost all your senses?!” Minako raged, as Yuuri’s mother stood, frozen, with tears flowing unbidden from her eyes.
“Mortal flight with a pegasus is dangerous enough! But you want to tempt the Fates by flying unaccompanied?! After we saw you off five years ago, your family had to watch you battle creatures unlike anything they’d ever seen before, and now you want them to watch you die? Like this?! Have you lost your senses, boy?!” Minako spat out, baring her teeth, looking more and more like an incoming shark.
Yuuri stared back and said coolly, “How many Helios devotees have been by this year? By how much has the number decreased this year?”
“That is none of your concern,” Minako said, back straight and proud.
Yuuri raised a brow, “Isn’t it? You think that just because I was on my Journey, I wouldn’t know about the problems Hasetsu is facing? I am no longer the boy who had to hold onto your hand, Minako. This town is mine as well, I am responsible for it.”
Yuuri’s mother gasped, “Not by putting your life on the line, Yuuri. That is not the way.”
Yuuri looked back, and said, voice thick, “Five years ago, I was just a boy. I could do nothing about the problems. But things are different now. I am different. I am a Hero now.”
“B-But the Titan Lord saved us, Yuuri! We no longer need to be saved.” Yuuri’s mother cried out.
“But for how long?!” Yuuri cried out, hand clenching, “He saved us last time, but no one knows why, and there is no guarantee he will save us again! We need to learn to save ourselves, not wait for others to do it for us!”
“Fool! You think yourself better than the gods?” Minako said belligerently.
Yuuri turned to look at her, and said simply, “I think myself more faithful to the lands and people of Hasetsu. I am no Immortal, too busy with the grand affairs of heavens. I am devoted to Hasetsu.”
Yuuri’s mother gasped, the sound shattering the brittle tension between Yuuri and Minako. “What are you saying, Yuuri! Be silent!”
But Yuuri was filled with fearlessness he knew only in battle, and he turned to her and said passionately, “No, Ma. I will fly this Halia, and then people all over the world will come to Hasetsu again. With the money I win at the Tournament, I will build a Hero school here, that anyone can enter. I can save Hasetsu.”
At the declaration, silence swept the room.
“I never took Yuuri Katsuki to be so selfish,” Minako said flatly.
Phichit who had been silent until that moment, stood up, chair screeching against the floor as he angrily said, “Yuuri is not selfish! He is risking his life for Hasetsu! How is that selfish?!”
Minako, shoulders slumped, and with a strange tone in her voice said, “Sometimes it’s selfish to do the right thing, sometimes it’s better to not do anything at all. To let things be.”
Yuuri looked at her, his mentor and second mother, and simply said, “That’s not what you’ve both raised me to do. I cannot sit if I can act. That’s not what I was taught. I’m sorry.”
Yuuri looked back, eyes alight, and said, “This Halia, I will fly. I will save Hasetsu.”
Now you’d like me on my knees,
crying out to Hera, “Blah, blah, blah,
bring him home safe and free of warts,”
or blubbering, “Wah, wah, wah, thank you,
thank you, for curing my liver condition.”
Good grief, gods do what they like.
They call down hurricanes with a whisper
or send off a tsunami the way you would a love letter.
- Charaxos and Larichos, Sappho
Yuuri stared at the ceiling as he laid in his room. After his declaration in the restaurant, he and Phichit had gone to their rooms to let his mother and Minako simmer down.
Yuuri could feel an uneasy twistiness in his gut. He didn’t like fighting with people he held dear, but this was the one thing he could do for Hasetsu and its future. He could save them all, and his school would ensure that they were no longer at the benevolent and unchecked mercies of the gods. He could save them all.
But the knowledge of the rightness of his choice didn’t make the memory of Minako’s disappointed anger and his mother’s tears any easier to bear.
Yuuri pushed his pillow over his face, unable to bear the guilt.
“What are you doing?”
Yuuri jumped as a voice spoke next to him, the approach of its owner disguised by the pillow covering Yuuri’s ears. He pulled the pillow off his face, and looked at the intruder with a gasp.
“Minako!”
Minako stared back, unimpressed.
Yuuri felt his ears redden, and he stuttered, accusing “You didn’t knock! I could have been-”
Minako rolled her eyes, and calmly said, as if Yuuri didn’t want to disintegrate in front of her eyes, “Please. Like I haven’t seen it all before.”
Yuuri felt like dying, both at the situation and the unasked for knowledge. He whimpered, clutching his head, unable to bear the weight of living anymore. But the hands didn’t stop the sound of Minako’s next words from reaching him.
“Is your heart still set on this ridiculous venture?” Minako asked point-blank.
Yuuri pulled away from his hands and just looked back at Minako, still flushed, but resolute.
She shook her head, and said with dry, resigned anger, “Stubborn child.”
“I thought I was selfish?” Yuuri said wryly, trying to lighten the despondent air surrounding her.
Minako’s eyes flashed, “You are both! Now listen to me, stubborn child, I have looked after you and trained you to become a Hero since you could stand. Don’t think you’re let off the hook from training just because you have become a Hero. Tomorrow, at six in the morning, I expect you by the sea.”
Yuuri bowed and, careful not to let a smile of relief show, obediently said, “Yes, Teacher.”
Minako humphed, and testily said, “I do not condone your actions, but I will do my best to make sure it’s not the last thing you do, even if you are hare-brained enough to carry it through. Don’t be late. We have a lot of work to do.”
Yuuri looked at Minako’s back, straight and proud, and felt like laughing loud and clear to expel the sheer force of emotion gathering in his chest, but resisted. He settled for a smile and slumped back into his bed, pulling the covers over his head and forced himself to sleep so he would be able to meet Minako early the next morning.
After all, they had a lot of work to do.
That night, his dreams were silver, silver, silver .
Mother dear, I
can’t finish my
weaving
You may
blame Aphrodite
soft as she is
she has almost
killed me with
love for that boy
- Sappho
“Okay, so let’s see it,” Minako said, hands on her hips, clad in form-fitting clothes, backlit by the morning sun above the sea. Yuuri felt a twinge in his chest at the familiar sight; When seeing Minako like this, in his more sentimental moments, Yuuri could swear that he was in the presence of a being far more powerful and knowing than what her flesh would imply.
When Yuuri was younger, Minako’s infallibility was one of his universal constants. He took his heart and strength from his mother, but found his head and reason in Minako.
He could still remember the time Minako had caught him practicing with a wooden stick, pretending it was a sword; how she had not laughed at the thought of a mortal attempting to become a Hero, but instead, with an unreadable look in her ancient eyes, trained him on how to hold a sword properly.
He had once plucked up the courage to ask Minako how she knew everything from dance to war-craft, only to get an invasive answer of, “I have had a long time to learn things no one expected me to be able to do.”
And yet, that answer to Yuuri, whose own dreams were laughed at by neighborhood kids, was revealing enough that Yuuri never asked again.
As Yuuri went through the familiar movements with his sword, under the watchful warmth of the sun, his mind - peaceful for the first time that day - wandered. It remembered the way Minako had combed back his hair with her fingers the day he had haltingly asked her if becoming a Hero was an impossible dream for someone like him; if someone with no godly blood to speak of could ever aspire to reach the heights of Heroes like Hercules.
He thought back to the pain in his chest as Minako had mercilessly told him, “No, I don’t believe you can hope to aspire to reach Hercules’s heights.”
He felt the bloom in his chest as he recalled how she had then leaned in, and with a voice steady with certainty said, “I believe you can and will one day surpass him.”
And it was that support that had lead Yuuri to brave the journey to go through the Labors of Hercules, the deathly trials needed to be known as a Hero in the eyes of the world, both mortal and immortal. It was that confidence that had had Yuuri finishing the Trials in five years, a feat that had taken Hercules himself twelve years to carry out.
Yuuri could see the pride in Minako’s eyes as she looked over critically at his posture, unable to find any faults.
It’s because of you and Hasetsu, that I became the only mortal to successfully carry out the Labours. And now it’s my turn to give back, and save you all.
But if Minako knew the train of thought his mind had started on, she ignored it, calling out instructions and directing him one way and another.
“Good. You’ve kept up with your training.” She said at last, a rare thread of hard-won approval sneaking in.
Yuuri smiled, “Hard not to, when creatures keep coming after you with all they have.”
Minako looked at him sarcastically, “Hmm, I wonder why that kept happening, Icarus? Couldn’t possibly be because you and that friend of yours kept going where you weren’t supposed to. ”
Yuuri laughed uneasily at the rebuke, and said, eyes wide with faux-innocence, “To be fair, that only happened like a tenth of the time. The rest of the time, we were just victims of circumstance!”
Minako looked back, unamused, “More like eighty percent of the time!”
Yuuri’s lips twitched, “Well, maybe around forty percent...”
Minako’s jaw clenched, “Twenty! I’d say more like sixty!”
Yuuri’s eyes glimmered with repressed amusement, “Well, let’s both settle for the average, and say fifty percent, yes?”
Minako’s posture cracked, hints of amusement creeping in, as she, for the first time that day, smiled at Yuuri.
Yuuri relaxed and smiled back, relieved.
Later, they sat on the sand, facing the sea, talking like Yuuri remembered they used to before Yuuri left for his Journey.
“If you keep going this way, Helios himself will not be able to take his eyes off of you,” Minako said offhandedly, leaning on her hands.
Yuuri reddened, and he stumbled out, “I don’t know about that, Minako. Helios is the best Air Skater there is. For Styx’s sakes, he invented the art! I doubt I will be able to impress him .”
Minako quirked her lips, in that obnoxious way she had of making him feel like she knew something he didn’t, and hummed.
At that, Yuuri flailed and said, “I’m serious! Helios is Helios! He won’t be interested in some random mortal!”
Minako turned to him abruptly, eyes flashing, “ Random mortal? Is that what you think of yourself, Icarus ? Not everyone gets a second name from the Oracle at Delphi, you know! And you and that hooligan friend of yours both got one! When will you get it through your thick head?! You are the first person after Hercules himself to pass the Labours! Most people during their Journey don’t have the temerity to go after the Labours, instead choosing the simpler route of becoming a Hero, but you chose and succeeded in the Labours themselves! And in less than half the time it took that beef-head Hercules!”
“Minako!” Yuuri said softly, humbled and emotional.
Minako looked at him steadily, “What?! Hercules was an entitled beef-head. You are far above and beyond him. A real Hero. One who would never stray from his duties and promises. That’s why it pains me so to see you throw it all away for some mad scheme, Yuuri.”
Yuuri licked his suddenly dry lips, and softly said, “I… wouldn’t be the person you raised me to be if I ran away from my promises, Minako. That’s why I have to do this. Hasetsu is my duty. I have to at least try to save it. I have to. Please try to understand.”
Minako closed her eyes and looked out at the sea with a far-away look in her eyes, and said with a softness that came from the sad knowledge of the inevitability of Yuuri’s decision, “Stubborn child.”
A puff of smoke, a little fog, away goes the hero,
it’s happily ever after
- Charaxos and Larichos, Sappho
“Yuuri, you ready?” Phichit said, voice thrumming with excitement.
Yuuri, equally excited but less overt about it, nodded.
Phichit pulled back the sheet over the contraption in the middle of his room, with the showmanship of a court jester mixed with the elegance and taste of Minako, to reveal his invention.
Yuuri gasped, unable to help himself, as he ran his eyes over the wooden, feathered wings. The wings might have looked unassuming, even mundane, but for the tips of the wings which were sharp and deadly, like the blade of a sword. The feathers, collected by Yuuri from the sheddings of birds in the woods, were bizarre and multi-colored, forming a cacophony of vibrancy, framing the weapons of war that were the aerodynamic wing-tips.
“Phichit.. . ” Yuuri said, still unable to tear his eyes away from the display.
Phichit looked back, nervous but proud, and hummed questioningly.
“They’re the single most beautiful sight I have ever laid my eyes on.” Yuuri murmured reverently.
Phichit relaxed and smiled, a soft, tremulous thing just as beautiful as the wings he had created.
They smiled at each other, before Phichit shook himself and in his usual jovial tone boomed, “Ah, but will they fly, you must be wondering!”
Yuuri settled down on the balls of his feet, and popped out nonchalantly, “Not really. I know they will. You made them, after all.”
Phichit stumbled, clearly taken aback by Yuuri’s confidence, but regrouped, expression pleased, bumbling out, “As you should be! Now the question becomes, want to take them for a try?”
Yuuri’s grin was the only answer Phichit needed, as he whooped and lifted up the wings from their stand.
They ran outside with the energy of boisterous young boys going off to play, wings carefully held. The customers in the inn turned in their seats to watch them run down the hallway laughing. They ran to the sea, which was situated next to the inn.
When all they could see was water Phichit stopped, turning back, eyes bright and offered the wings to Yuuri.
Yuuri, fingers trembling, touched the chassis lightly; he could feel the grain of the wood underneath the pads of his fingers. He gripped it tightly, carefully, testing out the weight.
Surprisingly light.
Together, the two of them put the wings on Yuuri, binding his arms to the wings. Yuuri could feel the structure like it was part of his own body. He felt his mind calm as it only did when he had a sword in his hand.
He felt right.
Yuuri could feel the bubbling in his chest spurred on by his giddy thoughts and the adrenaline coursing through his body.
He breathed.
A hand fell on his shoulder. Yuuri opened his eyes to see Phichit looking at him seriously.
“Yuuri, these wings will carry you, I swear it on my life. But I had to make some concessions when building them. You cannot fly too close to the sun, or get too close to the water from the sea, lest the sun melt the wax or the ocean spray clog the feathers. You must not attempt either. Swear it.”
Yuuri smiled, and said steadily, “I will do as you say, Phichit. I swear it.”
Phichit’s grave expression lightened, as he turned to look at the wings like they were an enjoyable plaything again, and with a wicked grin on his face said, “Well then, what are you waiting for? Take to your flight, Icarus!”
Yuuri grinned, and did just so.
As Phichit shouted, Fly, Yuuri, Fly!, Yuuri took to the skies with a run, feeling the wind beneath his artificial wings, until it was all he could hear.
The wind, the sun and him.
Yuuri laughed, louder and clearer than he would have with the ground under his feet, inhibitions erased with the wind in his hair and the clouds beneath him.
He felt invincible.
He felt inevitable.
He felt immortal.
Yuuri practiced his Air Skating moves, gliding, spinning, swooping in the air until the air itself hummed with his name.
In the distance he could see the Rhodes Aureole, with Helios looking down from his chariot. He felt a spurt of temerity rise in his chest.
He looked out at the setting sun, the sky colourful like the feathers in his wings, and promised himself.
No matter the cost, he was going to win.
There was no other alternative.
Yuuri breathed.
And flew.
Notes:
A sneak peek into the next chapter, it's called: Take to your flight, Icarus!
So... you know... prepare yourselves.
See you next chapter! <3
Chapter 4: Halia I
Summary:
Yuuri prepares for the beginning of Halia and Phichit learns of shocking new information!
Notes:
Happy New Year!!!
So, funny story, I've had this chapter sitting in my docs for a while now, I wanted to finish the Main Act (Ahem, ahem, ahem) for this fic in this chapter + wanted the Main Act (ahem, ahem, ahem) to be the first thing I posted this year but alas! 'twas was not meant to be!
I mean, sure, I could wait a bit longer, but I feel like I have made you guys wait long enough for this.
Tbh this chapter didn't go the way I expected it to go, and it was only after I had a breakthrough that it started to flow, and I'm very happy with how it has turned out.
Hope you all enjoy it as well!
Happy Reading!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The first day of Halia, Yuuri woke up without realizing it or being quite ready for it. One minute he was deep in Morpheus's lands and the next he was staring at his ceiling; his departure abrupt and without opportunity to say a final goodbye.
As Yuuri lay awake, a sense of stillness steadying his heart, he felt like a fallen leaf on uninterrupted water, afloat and slowly drifting away from everything he'd previously known… but buoyant nonetheless.
He could feel the warmth from the sun seeping through his bed-clothes like liquid gold. He was loathe to leave the serenity of the bed, the sun and the morning light and how it seemed to cradle him in its arms. But...
Taking one last deep, conscious breath, Yuuri got up and reached for his sword.
Maybe the sun would be kind enough to wait for him, but the same couldn't be said for Minako and her awaiting training session.
Help! He is gone. That wild boy, Love, has escaped!
Just now, as day was breaking, he flew from his bed and was gone.
- Meleager of Gadara
"Yuuri." Minako said with the steel and decisiveness of a wartime general, "Today, you will prove to me how serious you are about this. Otherwise I will not allow you to go through with your foolhardy plan."
Yuuri felt the pace of his heart pick up. Minako wasn't someone who let her point rest that easily. She was a fighter. She wasn't going to let him go through with this unless he had convinced her of his preparedness.
It wasn't a fair demand considering Halia was starting in an hour, Yuuri was carrying the hopes of their village on his shoulders and couldn't afford to back out of the competition. It was irrational and unfair and cruel and...
Yuuri's lips quirked and he held up his sword.
...He had been expecting this.
"I will fly today, Minako, and your voice will be the first one I hear after I leave the ocean. I swear it." Yuuri said, filled with careless confidence, as he removed his shoes and started stretching.
Minako reared her head back like an angry, wild stallion, and tsk-ed, "Stubborn child. Let's see if that body can match that careless mouth of yours."
Yuuri smiled and took his opening position.
Leuconoe, why try to know
The future, which cannot be known?
Or what the Assyrian numbers say
Of your fate and my own?
Put it away, don't waste your time,
Winter will come on
And break the lower sea on the rocks
While we drink summer's wine.
- Horace
"Yuuri! Yuuri! There you are! I was getting worri- Uh, why is Minako looking murderously pleased? Just… what did you two do in the past one hour?" Phichit asked hesitatingly, with an worrying edge of morbid curiosity.
Yuuri resisted the urge to smile and shrugged, putting an arm around Phichit and squeezed him tightly, tuning out Phichit's protests as he yelled about sweat and the smell, Yuuri, for Styx's sake, you reek!
"Yuuri." Hiroko said.
Yuuri looked at her and smiled warmly, "Yes, Ma?"
Hiroko shuffled her feet and smiled back, a tiny, blooming thing worth more to Yuuri than all the gold and jewels in Hades's realm, and softly urged, "Yuuri, you need to get ready for the dance. Go on, now! Shoo! We can't have our champion being late to his first ever Pyrrhic Dance."
Yuuri's eyes widened and he resisted the urge to let out a curse, for, in his haste and anxiety about Halia, he had forgotten all about that.
"Pyrrhic Dance?" Phichit asked, voice muffled from his face currently being shoved into Yuuri's armpit.
"It's the dance of elite warriors. Yuuri, as the returning Hero and warrior of this village, is to perform it during Halia's opening ceremony in front of everyone present so all can see the glory of - oh, for god's sake, Yuuri, let the poor boy go! - oh, never mind!" Minako said testily, over Hiroko's unsuccessfully muffled giggles.
Phichit cooed with interest, and as Yuuri had let go of him, was now able to indulge in jumping up and down in glee, "You never told me you could dance, Yuuri! I thought we didn't keep secrets, you and I! I feel like I can no longer recognize you, my quick-footed, secretive friend."
Yuuri rolled his eyes at the glee in his friend's eyes.
"You never mentioned you could dance, Yuuri?" Mari, having just entered said, suspiciously nonchalant, Yuuri, with the intuition all younger siblings everywhere possessed, stood up straighter and prepared himself for what was sure to come.
"No! Can you believe him, Mari?!" Phichit said, exaggerating his dismay, although Yuuri could see a bit of genuineness in the caricature.
His heart softened, and Yuuri opened his mouth…
"Oh? So, I assume he hasn't told you that he is also going to be dancing in Gymnopaidiai or The Festival of Unarmed Dancing this morning?" Mari asked with the same faux innocence only a true harbinger of chaos can replicate.
"Unarmed dancing? Isn't all dancing without weapons?" Phichit asked quizzically.
Mari, with the air of a predator having finally corralled its prey into exactly where it had intended, smiled and said, with a lightness belying the weight of her revelation, "Oh, not unarmed as in 'without weapons', unarmed as in naked."
Phichit slowly turned to Yuuri, movements sharp and jerkish, like someone had forgotten to oil his hinges. Yuuri resisted the urge to close his eyes at the look on Phichit's face.
… Now, he remembered, he hadn't forgotten the dance, more like blocked out all reminders of the event.
"Yuuri?" Phichit whispered with every syllable coated with vicious glee that could only come from voluntary humiliation of one's best friend.
"My Yuuri's been dancing since before he could even pick up a sword," Hiroko said, with maternal pride and obliviousness to her son's mental anguish, "Minako herself taught him all she knew about dancing!"
"Hmm," Minako hummed sounding darkly amused at the unfolding events, "If one is to use a sword, one must know the practical skill of dance. Why, Yuuri proved himself to me this very morning with his Pyrrhic Dance, it was… convincing." Minako finished grudgingly.
"Aw, and I missed it? That's awful! Yuuri! You are supposed to tell me about these things! You'll have to make it up to me by dancing the same thing for your first Halia dance!" Phichit said excitedly.
Yuuri's eyes widened, "That dance is not meant for such a public spectacle, Phichit. It is..." Yuuri trailed off not knowing how to word the twisty feeling in his gut at the thought of people seeing that dance; the dance that was about his ambitions and wishes and hopes. It was…
"Beautiful. That dance was insolent in its temerity, almost daring me to look away, but I couldn't. I couldn't look away from you, Yuuri." Minako said definitively, resolute in her belief in the truth of her words, "Use it. Make everyone see you. Tell your story, The Story of Icarus."
The Story of Icarus, huh?
It sounded… Epic, like something that could withstand the sands of time.
Yuuri wanted that.
He wanted to make them all unable to look away.
Turning to Phichit, Yuuri said, words sleek like a sword and just as heavy, "Guess you'll be seeing my dance from this morning after all, Phi."
See, in the white of the winter air
The day hangs like a rose.
It droops down to the reaching hand
Take it before it goes.
- Horace
Notes:
Whelp!
I hope that was worth the wait!
Updates:
1. I posted the first chapter of the fic about Yuuri's Hero Journey a month or so ago, but here it is for those who missed it: The Labours of Yuuri Katsuki2. My goal for this year is to finish this fic and this series this year sometime, so I hope you will stay with me for the rest of the journey!
3. :Tumble weeds:
And that's it, folks! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I look forward to engaging with you down in the comments and/or Tumblr, Twitter,Pillowfort or even Discord if you're so inclined!
See you next time!
Chapter 5: Halia II
Summary:
Yuuri dances.
Notes:
Hey guys!!!!!!!!
How have you all been?! I have been working on an Orpheus AU for Mo Dao Zu Shi (1000/10 would rec, please go watch it and gush about it with me pls my crops are dying) and I missed writing this AU.
Here is the second part to Halia!
Warning: There is a brief reference to an animal sacrifice (horses), it's very brief but if you'd rather not read it, please skip the first part of the second scene till
"The priest waddled out of the ocean and with a huge smile declared, “The Titan Lord of the Sun is pleased with our sacrifice...."I had a lot of fun writing this and am looking forward to hearing your thoughts about this!
Happy reading! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yuuri took a deep breath, head bent, the heat from the hearth a gentle presence with an echo warning him from getting any closer.
“Yuuri.” His mother whispered. Yuuri slowly opened his eyes and looked up from where he was sitting.
“It’s time.” She said softly.
Yuuri got up, leaving behind the rich smell of burning Katsudon in the hearth.
A Mysian who saw that they were amazed, retorted by persuading one of the Arcadians who had acquired a dancing girl to dress her in the finest costume he could, fit her with a light shield and bring her on to give a graceful performance of the “Pyrrhic” dance. Thereupon there was a roar of applause, and the Paphlagonians asked if the Greek women also fought side by side with their men. The Greeks answered that these were the very women who had routed the king from his camp.”
- Anabasis, Xenophon
Phichit, bright-eyed and flushed, turned, almost vibrating with his enthusiasm.
“Yuuri! Look!” He said, pulling Yuuri closer by clasping Yuuri’s hands within his own, and squealed, “It has started! Look! Those horses there are so beautiful!”
The village priest gestured for his disciples to bring in the chariot with the four horses that Phichit had been referring to. Phichit who had turned back to the proceedings gasped, probably in surprise at the way Yuuri’s hand had tightened within his.
“Yuuri, what-” Phichit started to whisper, only to be cut off by a curt shake of Yuuri’s head, his hand still being gripped tightly. Frowning, Phichit turned back towards the priest, who was now leading the horses and chariot in the direction of their house, the crowd following.
“Yuuri.” Phichit asked, with a familiar undercurrent of foreboding in his tone.
The priest bypassed Yuuri’s house, opting to lead them all to the nearby ocean.
“Yuuri.” Phichit urged, more frantic than before.
The priest didn’t stop walking, the reigns of the chariot and the horses still firmly in his hand, until-
Yuuri threw his arm over Phichit - sweet, soft-hearted, Phichit - and crushed Phichit’s face into his shoulder so he wouldn’t have to see any more. Minako’s face, smooth like jade, turned to look at them and met Yuuri’s unflinching eyes.
No. I won’t let him see it.
Minako turned back to look as the horses were plunged into the ocean.
The sacrifice to Helios had been made.
Phichit’s shoulders shook and Yuuri tightened his grip as the priest turned, knee-deep in the ocean and raised his fist to the exhalted cheers of the crowd.
Halia had begun.
Yuuri released Phichit and moved forward, blood rushing in his veins and hand leaving Phichit’s and moving to his sword.
The priest waddled out of the ocean and with a huge smile declared, “The Titan Lord of the Sun is pleased with our sacrifice. Our Hero, Yuuri Katsuki, born to Hiroko Katsuki, student of Minako, named Icarus, first of his name, is now going to start Halia with a Pyrrhic dance.”
Yuuri turned, blood still roiling, looked at the crowd that seemed to stretch all the way to the other side of the peninsula, and was not afraid.
His eyes sought Phichit’s, Phichit who had come here on his request and been demanded an almost impossible task from, who had left his family and home after being away for years, with nary a whisper of complaint, all for him.
Phichit was white-faced, still trying to understand what he had been witness to. So young, Yuuri mused, and yet… he shines brighter than any other.
Faced with the dulled look in his friend’s eyes, Yuuri decided: he would just have to do his best to remind Phichit of why he had decided to come to Hasetsu in the first place.
Yuuri nodded to the aulos performer waiting for his cue, loosed his body, feet apart and hand on his sword, and started to move.
Yuuri lost himself, with every swing of his sword, jab of his fists and leap of his feet, he forgot the sudden hush of the crowd, the uncertainty of the future and the cruelties of the past.
He was Yuuri Katsuki.
Yuuri slowed his rapidfire movements, the aulos taking on a sweeter note...
Born to Hiroko Katsuki.
And with a lethal slice of his blade, he drew up from his arched back, quicksilver, sharp and ruthless in pushing his body to its very limit, the aulos tripping over itself to keep its pace with Yuuri, but he paid it no mind, too lost in his own mind.
Student of Minako.
The aulos’s music swelled until it seemed to almost tip over with how much it contained, tension thick and grabbing, and Yuuri threw his sword towards the ocean, only to - with rapid gymnastics - tumble after it, quick enough to grab it out of the air before it could even touch the earth.
The aulos’s music stopped along with the air in everyone’s lungs, as they took in the final image of Yuuri Katsuki pointing his sword, snatched from mid-air, at the sky - no, not the sky, the sun.
Yuuri opened his eyes to wide-eyed silence but with not one eye turned away from him and his story.
He was Icarus, first of his name.
Helios the Sun rides his chariot, he shines upon men and deathless gods, and piercingly he gazes with his eyes from his golden helmet. Bright rays beam dazzlingly from him, and his bright locks streaming from the temples of his head gracefully enclose his far-seen face: a rich, fine-spun garment glows upon his body and flutters in the wind : and stallions carry him. Then, when he has stayed his golden-yoked chariot and horses, he rests there upon the highest point of heaven, until he marvellously drives them down again through heaven to Okeanos (Oceanus).
- Homeric Hymn 31 to Helios
The competitors were giving him a wide berth.
Yuuri resisted the urge to rejoice even mentally at the reprieve from social niceties. After his dance, he had little patience to suffer courtesy small-talk.
Yuuri turned towards Phichit who had been unusually silent since his dance that even Minako had given a perfunctory nod to. Yuuri opened his mouth, only -
“Hey, you! Icarus!” A light voice that somehow managed to distill an inordinate amount of anger in it, called out.
Yuuri turned quizzically to see a blonde youth, who appeared to be around Phichit’s age, march towards him with purpose. The crowd had long left to go watch the other competitions and festivities. Yuuri blinked as the blonde got up into his space and stared at him, eyes narrowed, before hissing a venomous, “No one needs your interference.” before walking away.
Yuuri, whose eyes had started to water from the impromptu staring contest, blinked rapidly and wondered if there were just people in the world whose sole purpose was to voice Yuuri’s innermost fears and insecurities.
“Wow, who misplaced their child and why does that child look like he wants you on the end of his sword?” Phichit who had witnessed the whole thing asked.
Relief overwhelmed him at Phichit’s voice and he lightly laughed, turning towards him, saying “I honestly have no idea. Also, I doubt he’s a child, Phichit, he seems almost as old as you.”
Phichit drew up like a haughty bird and with no little amount of self-importance said, “Yes, but I am Daedalus, I doubt even the heavens could fathom creating someone like me twice in a row.”
Fond and so terribly charmed, Yuuri couldn’t help but agree.
But at Yuuri’s laughter, Phichit’s face grew more somber than before, and he rushed forward, gathering Yuuri’s hands within his own.
“Yuuri. Yuuri.” He said urgently, “You mustn’t. You mustn’t use the wings, please, Yuuri I beg of you.”
Yuuri, surprised at the sudden vehemence and the tears that had started to fall from Phichit’s eyes, said, lost “But, why? Did something happen?”
Phichit gripped his hands tighter and he said with desperation, “Yuuri, that dance, it- it reminded me of what I have to lose. Yuuri, Yuuri, please don’t fly with my wings, if something happened to you and because of something I’d created, I’d never-”
Yuuri laid his hand on Phichit’s mouth silencing him, and said softly, “Phichit, I have complete faith in you. I would never make you an accessory to something you wanted no part in, but please, I beg of you, please, let me do this, for Hasetsu.”
Phichit drew in a shaky breath and still trembling stared into Yuuri’s eyes, and after a moment, said with a conflicted expression, “You have to promise me, you will come back from that ocean, swear it so.”
Yuuri nodded and said, resolve strengthening, “I swear it.”
Phichit, whose shoulders had still not stopped trembling, still looked like he was on the precipice of a cliff about to do something rash. Yuuri softened, rash was usually his modus operandi.
Yuuri, drawing close, asked lightly, “Come now, Phichit, have I ever broken a promise to you?”
Phichit, finally relaxing, threw himself into Yuuri’s arms. Yuuri, who had never had any doubt about the many people who held love for him in their hearts, tightened his grip on Phichit. He had known, but maybe not how much.
Maybe there was no need for him to interfere, but he intended to be deserving of this love, and he was going to come back from the ocean, for there were people in this mortal world who loved him just as much as he them.
There was no other outcome that Yuuri would accept, he would spit at the three Fates themselves if needed, but he wasn’t going to break his promise to those who held him so dear.
Having someone to fight for was a powerful thing, indeed.
Notes:
Ah, I hope you guys enjoyed that!
The Pyrrhic dance is an actual thing btw! I didn't make that part up. It was hella fun to write though I am curious as to if reading it was a fun/evocative experience.
I would love it if you guys dropped by on my social media or in the comments below so I can engage with you, but no pressure. You are all awesome for reading along <3
See you next time!
Chapter 6: Take To Your Flight, Icarus!
Summary:
Icarus flies.
Notes:
Hey guys!!!
F I N A L L Y
THIS CHAPTER IS UP!
I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS VERY MOMENT FOR 10 BILLION YEARS!
Thank you so much for your kindness and support, you guys keep me going.
I bring to you the longest chapter yet! I hope you enjoy it.
I was listening to Defying gravity, Bombing King (from BNHA) and Thunder when writing this, so I hope I got the vibe right!
Thank you so much Daffy for Beta-ing this!!! <3 <3
Happy reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Oh, god.” Yuuri moaned, face in his hands, “I cannot believe I just did that!”
“Which part,” Phichit asked, an odd tone in his voice, “The part where you had to dance again, or the fact that the second dance was naked, or the moment where everyone realized they could never get on your level, or the realization that your naked body was broadcasted all over the world?”
Yuuri, who had till that very moment not remembered the last fact tried to reason if using his wings to fly away from this very conversation was an option.
Phichit, on seeing a red-faced Yuuri roll around in renewed embarrassment, rolled his eyes and dryly said, “Please, give me a break. Your bare skin carried more dignity than the finest robes in all the lands and the moment you stepped out, all who saw you were either intimidated by you or wanted you. I assure you, that broadcast is going to be a classic, and it’s not just because of your prowess with a sword.”
In response, Yuuri just screeched louder.
So Anactoria, although you
being far away forget us,
the dear sound of your footstep
and light glancing in your eyes
would move me more than glitter
of Lydian horse or armored
tread of mainland infantry
- Sappho
Once Yuuri had compartmentalized his embarrassment into a box that he would never open, he got up and surveyed his empty room, Phichit having left to check on the wings.
Shaking his head, Yuuri realized he had been long remiss in his most sacred responsibilities. Suddenly filled with an inexplicable urge to fix this slight immediately, he went to the open-roofed house next to his own.
The being in the house looked up when he entered, and on the resulting explicit excitement, Yuuri smiled, “Hey, boy. Long time no see.”
The pterippus neighed back, wings flapping, sending wafts of cool air towards Yuuri’s way and rustling his hair, a far sight away from the tiny runt Yuuri had picked up when he was younger.
Pterippus or winged horses were rare and prized, but a pterippus couldn’t be owned or broken or subdued, they were beings of the sky and answered to no one they didn’t choose. Yuuri had found this pterippus who had been abandoned by his mother on the eve of Yuuri’s tenth birthday, possibly because of his tiny and frail body. But despite being hungry and alone, the sky horse’s spirit hadn’t dulled, and upon hearing Yuuri approaching him had started flapping his wings, possibly to make himself seem bigger or even to fly away.
But maybe it had been the hunger, his age or Yuuri’s luck, but the being stayed grounded, cautious and ready to fight although Yuuri could see that he was frightened from the erratic panic in his eyes.
Upon noticing that, Yuuri had stopped walking, a few feet away from the sky horse. The winged being, barely taller than Yuuri himself, hadn’t stopped flapping his wings.
So, Yuuri, with the foolhardiness of a child, did what he could to aid the horse in his attempts to look fierce. He had plopped down on the sand and continued to look at the winged horse steadily, silent and calm.
The winged horse had looked down at Yuuri and slowed the force with which they were beating their wings.
Yuuri had smiled and softly said, “I don’t know if you can understand me, but don’t feel sad. I know what it’s like to be abandoned, you know. My father left us when I was but a babe. But it was alright, see? Because my mother was still there, and so was Minako and the rest of Hasetsu. So what if my father left? It doesn’t mean I don’t have a family. I know you don’t have one right now, but you can join mine if you like. With us, you will never go hungry or be scared or be alone because family takes care of each other.”
The wings had stopped beating.
The memory of meeting his first friend calmed Yuuri better than any compartmentalizing could have.
The sky horse - now much bigger and not as hungry or frightened - stepped forward to nuzzle Yuuri’s face with his own and made a questioning sound, beating his wings a bit more softly.
Yuuri smiled and laying a hand on the horse’s face, said, “Not this time, boy, I’m afraid this is a flight I am going to have to manage myself. The mobility and speed of having my own wings will be what turn the tides in my favor, and… I need a big spectacle, one that will lure people to Hasetsu. A spectacle even the Immortals cannot tear their eyes away from.”
The winged horse huffed, nudging the ground with his hooves, as if offended. Yuuri laughed and fondly said, hugging his dear friend tighter, “No, my love, you are the best air-support anyone can have. I just have to do this... for my family.”
The sky horse threw his head back, his locks flying around him, and nudged Yuuri closer, as if frantically trying to tell Yuuri something. But time was running out and Yuuri had to go.
With some effort, Yuuri broke his embrace and upon hearing protesting sounds from his friend, looked back and smiled, “I’ll be back! And I’ll bring some apples. Wish me luck, old friend. I’ll see you soon.”
With that promise hanging in the air, Yuuri left to go towards the tournament arena.
Description? Sweetly tearful, talks forever, swift, irreverent,
Slyly laughing, wings on his back, and carries a quiver
His last name? I don’t know, for his father and mother
Whoever they are, in earth or heaven, won’t admit it.
Everyone hates him, you see. Take care, take care,
Or even now he’ll be weaving new snares for your heart.
- Meleager
Hiroko caught him before he could enter the tournament tent.
“Yuuri.” She said.
Yuuri turned back and saw the way her hands were trembling and eyes were glazed. Yuuri strode towards her and took her in his arms.
Hiroko clutched his robes tightly and said, voice shaking, “I tried my best to never rob you of your ambition. I tried not to let my failures and burdens dampen your light, but I am afraid I have not been able to- after your father…”
Yuuri stifled. His mother never spoke about his father. His father was a spectre who had always hung around his mother, a ghost he hadn’t been able to dispel no matter how hard he had tried.
“I am afraid that because of my failings, I am going to lose you again, Yuuri. This time forever.” Hiroko said, voice steady, despite her tears.
Yuuri tightened his grip on her and said, voice hoarse, “Ma, you never- you were the best- I… I am sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed, Ma. I am sorry-”
Hiroko pulled away abruptly and threw her hand up to cover Yuuri’s mouth and said fiercely, “Never. Never apologize for what you want, Yuuri. Never apologize. It makes you, you. Your ambition, your temerity, your heart is why I am so proud to call you my son, it’s why I understand that even though it means I might lose you to it, I must never impede your drive, for without it you are already lost.”
Yuuri watched as his mother, his strength and heart, let him go one more time.
Yuuri blinked away his tears, not willing to let his last memory of his mother before his flight be blurry, and promised, “I will be back. Ma, I will be back.”
Hiroko smiled, nodded, and waved him towards his silver skies.
Some say a cavalry corps,
some infantry, some, again,
will maintain that the swift oars
of our fleet are the finest
sight on dark earth; but I say
that whatever one loves, is.
- Sappho
“What took you so long?” Phichit hissed, only to stop when he saw Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri didn’t know what it was that he could see but Phichit grinned, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, pulled Yuuri to their corner.
“Okay. So, you realize the public, when they see this broadcast, is going to throw a fit, right?” Phichit said, good mood renewed for whatever reason.
Yuuri groaned, he had been trying not to think about that very fact.
Phichit made a clucking sound with his mouth and chided, “Hey, no, none of that. Where was that hunk from that night asking me to make him wings of his own to fly?”
Yuuri shook his head and said weakly, “He’s too busy trying not to throw up.”
Phichit, shaking a finger at him said, “Don’t sass your father!”
Yuuri looked back at him and said dryly, “You’re not my father”
Phichit continued, as if not hearing him, “My son who I’ve raised with my own two hands!”
Yuuri sighed and despite himself smiled, amused, “We’re not having this conversation again.”
Phichit looked back, eyes soft, “There you go. You’re smiling again.”
“What?” Yuuri said, confused.
“It’s good to be a Hero, Yuuri. But your laurels aren’t what makes us want to follow you to the ends of the earth, it’s your heart. You don’t have to be someone you’re not. Just… be yourself.” Phichit said lightly, hands moving over the wings, not looking at Yuuri.
“Phi.” Yuuri said, unsure how to continue.
Phichit, still looking away and working, continued, “We need you here, you understand? So, come back, you hear? Otherwise I’ll bring you back to life if I have to knock on Hades’s door myself.”
The tent opened and the other participants lumbered in. Phichit turned back and after giving Yuuri one last smile, walked away.
Yuuri didn’t know for how long he stood rooted to that very spot, and it was only when the tournament organizer’s voice filled the air that he remembered his more pressing duty.
“Okay, participants. Line up here as I tell you the rules of this tournament.”
Yuuri walked over to where the rest were lined up, only to do a double-take as he met a familiar set of green eyes and blonde hair.
That’s the kid who’d threatened him!
“What.” The kid rumbled when he noticed Yuuri’s stare. Why was this kid so angry? Yuuri wondered, baffled.
Shaking his head, Yuuri said nothing and lined up beside him.
The organizer surveyed them, ten in total, and grunted, as if unimpressed.
“So. Here are the rules. You will have to, aided with the power of flight, gather the egg of a creature from the jaws of death itself, and you have to do this within the span of ten minutes. If anyone wants to pull out of the tournament, this is your chance.” He said staidly.
“What is the creature?” A Hero asked as others around Yuuri began to murmur.
The organizer snorted and said, “Young lady, a true Hero doesn’t need to ask that question.”
Yuuri felt a spike of irritation at his dismissal of the - in his opinion, apropos - question, and opened his mouth-
With a toss of her long mane and a belligerent laugh, the Hero said with a confident mein, “Maybe that’s why most so-called “true” Heroes die. Lack of information and foolishness disguised as bravery isn’t being a Hero. Why, a hero shouldn’t be someone who is willing to rush in uninformed and clueless, risking the lives of their comrades. A true Hero is someone who despite knowing who is on the other end of the fight, decides to fight anyway.”
Yuuri bit back a grin, this Hero didn’t need his or, really, anyone’s help.
The organizer reared up, affronted and haughtily said, “And just who might you be to lecture me about heroes, girl?”
The Hero just smiled and said, measured voice filling the room faster than even the loudest of shouts, “The name’s Atalanta, don’t worry too much about forgetting it, it’ll be written in the stars soon enough.”
The organizer’s face reddened with apoplectic rage, and he opened his mouth, but before he could say a single word another spoke.
“Enough.”
Yuuri turned to see that the blonde beside him had been the one to speak, his green eyes looking at them derisively, and he continued, voice surly but full of an expectation of being followed, “I grow weary of this pointless chatter. Old Man, tell us who we’re stealing an egg from and cut your pointless theatrics, if I had wanted to go to watch a badly written play, I would have gone to the local theatre instead of wasting my time here. Now...”
The air around them swirled with power as the blonde’s green eyes almost glowed with his distaste and he spoke, each syllable accentuated and vibrating with the force of his command, “Speak.”
The organizer, seemingly cowed, continued weakly “The creature whose egg you’ll be taking is a Cetus.”
The other heroes broke out in whispers and even Yuuri, fresh from the trials of the Labours, was shocked.
A Cetus? The monster that Perseus saved Andromeda from? But that would mean that the competition would take place…
“You will all fly over the ocean and be ranked on rhythm, suppleness, contact, impulsion, straightness and collection. In the event of a tie, the time required to get the egg will be the tiebreaker. That is,” The organizer continued, ignoring the whispers, gaining in confidence and cruel amusement, “if even one of you manages to get the egg considering that you will all be facing the same Cetus who will become more and more bloodthirsty as each participant attempts to steal her egg. So, when I say this is your last chance to be assured of your continued existence, I mean it. So, I ask now for the last time... would anyone like to back out?”
Yuuri’s heart thudded in his ears as silence fell upon them, but no one moved.
At that, the organizer curled his lip and said, almost savoring his next words, “May the gods light your way home.”
“Who’re the competitors?”
“Oh! It’s a mixed bag this time, we have everyone who is anyone all the way to random nobodies you’ve never heard of. There’s even a girl, if you can believe it!”
“A girl?! What in the- but anyway, my question is - is it true? Is he also participating?”
“Who?”
“Did the fall from your horse damage your memory?! Who else could I be talking about?! He’s the one we’re all here for anyway. So, did you see him yet?! Will he be flying today?”
“I will never understand why my beloved wife is so interested in the exploits of another man. Am I not man enough for you?! What do you all see in him anyway?”
“It’s not like that! You know that! It’s just… we all saw him grow up, you know. When he was on his Hero’s Journey, I watched him on our Scrying Screens. I watched him grow into the Hero he is today, not only surviving but thriving despite everything and everyone - Immortal or mortal - who stood in his way. It’s just...”
“Enough. My heart cannot bear this talk any longer. To answer your question - yes. He will be flying today.”
“Oh- Oh! When?!”
“Ha, that’s the tragedy, isn’t it… They drew lots and he got the worst one.”
“How so?”
“He’ll be the last one to fly against the Cetus, after everyone else has had their turn antagonizing her. Let us just hope the gods are feeling merciful today and your hero thrives yet again.”
“The people are cheering,” Phichit said excitedly, as he bounced on his feet, “Hear that Yuuri? I can hear your name and we haven’t even started yet!”
Yuuri shook his head at his fanciful best-friend, chanting his name, indeed, what an absurd thought. Like anyone other than his family even knew about him, let alone enough to publicly scream his name.
“You.” A voice gritted out from behind him.
Yuuri turned to see the same blonde hero from earlier who had been glaring at him.
The blonde was - characteristically - glaring, as he continued, teeth sharp and bright, “I am going to win and by such a large margin that there will be no point in you even flying today. Heed my words.”
Yuuri could hear Phichit draw up in outrage but before Phichit could say anything, Yuuri smiled and inclined his head respectfully to the hero.
“I would be insulted if you didn’t plan on that, Hero. But while I respect your goal, I would be remiss if I didn’t do everything in my power to make sure your intentioned plans remain just so. I hope you do do everything in your power to win, but rest assured, I will be doing the same.”
The blonde’s eyes widened for a moment before the glare was back, stronger and more complicated than from before, “My name is Yuri. Remember it well.”
And then without another word, the blonde - Yuri - turned, movement made all the more dramatic because of his wide sleeves and billowing cape, and swept away with all the majesty of a gust of wind in the night sky.
Yuuri turned to Phichit who looked about ready to burst, but before he could talk, the sound of a horn pierced the air.
Yuuri took in a deep breath, steadying himself.
The tournament had begun.
Didn’t I tell you, oh soul, “Look out, you’ll be caught,
You silly thing, if you flutter so near her net?”
Didn’t I warn you?
- Meleager
One by one, the competitors went, their sky horses by their sides.
The first hero, a strapping brown-haired lad who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, tried and failed to even lure the Cetus out. He flew around on his sky horse, throwing fire into the ocean to no avail.
He did this until his time ran out.
This continued for the next three heroes, who all seemed unable to even being the Cetus out of the ocean. The crowd grew restless. This wasn’t the entertainment they’d been promised.
Then, it was Atalanta’s turn. She grinned, not an ounce of uncertainty seemingly weighing her down, she clearly didn’t think the failure of her predecessors was going to affect her chances. She sat atop her flying steed, hair wild in the evening wind turning her into a sight to behold.
A hush fell upon the crowd, something was going to happen, everyone could feel it in the air.
Atalanta, hundreds of feet in the air with only a sky horse for assistance, easily recognizable for her billowing wild hair, with nary a visible stumble, confidently stood on top of her flying horse.
Yuuri gasped, a thrill shooting through him at the sight. She was-
Arms raised straight above her head like she was about to dive into the ocean - but surely not, for at this height she would -
Atalanta jumped, lithe body slicing through the air like an arrow, arms outstretched and hurtling straight towards the incoming ocean.
“No!” Yuuri shouted, standing up, she was going to-
He lunged forward, only...
Yuuri watched as the Cetus, who almost seemed to dwarf the ocean itself, rose out of the ocean, and opened its long, cavernous muzzle as Atalanta dropped towards it.
But as her body reached close to the lunging mouth, Atalanta whistled, shrill and clear, piercing through the gasps of the crowd, and all watched as the Hero they had all already written off as dead, was swept away from the open jaws of the Cetus by her flying horse.
The Cetus bellowed, angry at the taunt and Atalanta, safe on her sky horse, smiled and urged her horse forward. The Cetus’s long, serpentine body and horned muzzle seemed to overshadow the sun itself, her mass was significant enough to dispel enough water to reveal a nest with eggs, hidden near the surface of the water.
The crowd was still, right before they broke out in cheers and screams of Atalanta’s name.
Yuuri, who could still hear his heart in his ears, ruefully shook his head, no one was going to forget that name any time soon, that was for sure. Written in the stars, indeed.
But the fight was far from over.
Atalanta, nimble and slight, made quick work of the Cetus, distracting her enough with her feinting to steal an egg within the imposed time limit.
Yuuri stared at Atalanta, hair alight with the evening sun and fist raised in the air in victory.
That made one.
The judges seemed to agree, awarding her with the full sixty points for her performance.
The crowd, revitalized after Atalanta’s victory, cheered on the next competitor, but none of the three, despite their attempts to recreate Atalanta’s technique were able to do so.
Yuuri breathed a little easier, although Atalanta had managed to capture the egg, she had done so in the nick of time. So there was still hope for him to pull out ahead, all he had to do was be quicker while getting the required points.
But, again that depended on how the next competitor did. Yuuri leaned forward, this would inform him of his ultimate strategy.
The eighth competitor stalked off of the field, frustrated as the ninth competitor walked in and took his position atop a nearby cliff.
The crowd quietened, wasn’t the competitor a little young? They whispered amongst themselves, surely he isn’t going to compete with the older, more established Heroes?
Yuuri tightened his fist, because there was only one person left to go, aside from him, and if the way he had cracked with ominous energy just a scant hours ago had been any indication, he was no one to be underestimated.
Yuri walked out, head held high and shoulders loose and proud.
He also seemed to be alone.
Not a moment after the timer began, Yuri took off running towards the edge of the cliff, barefooted, a tiny speck in the looming landscape.
The whispers strengthened in fervor and content.
Where was his sky horse?
Surely he knew the rules of the game?
He had to be aided by flight!
“Maybe he couldn’t afford a steed? But… if he goes straight into the water from that height, he is all but dead, if not by the water then by the Cetus lurking within.” Phichit wondered, next to Yuuri. But Yuuri only had eyes for the figure running towards the ocean. Something wasn’t right.
Yuuri watched as the ocean grew stormier, each wave of the tide coming in faster and more ferocious than the one before it, until it seemed like all the water in the ocean was going to move into the land.
Yuuri watched as a wall of water, a size he had never seen before, crashed into the land, spraying them all with flecks of salty water.
Yuuri watched as the tide swept back, only to reveal the Cetus it had carried and left behind on the land.
Yuuri watched as Yuri, without hesitation, leapt off of the edge of the cliff and began to fall.
Yuuri watched as a silver chariot drawn by two snow-white sky horses, caught the falling Hero, who without a second’s hesitation, with the tides revealing the rock the nest of the Cetus rested upon and the lack of protection provided by the absence of the Cetus, plucked an egg away, all before any of them had a chance to wipe off the salt spray from their eyes.
Yuuri watched but he did not understand.
But understanding was not needed for him to recognize the dawning realization of his rank in the tournament and probability of winning.
That made two.
“Yuuri.” Phichit said, a note of urging in his voice, for after years of traveling, he had learnt how to predict Yuuri’s thoughts, especially when they leaned towards the precarious and dangerous. But Phichit didn’t need his Yuuri-reading abilities to realize what Yuuri himself had: The judges had awarded Yuri full points. Yuri and Atalanta were now tied, but since Yuri had taken half the time that Atalanta had - a feat that had never entered anyone’s minds as being even possible - Yuri was now the leading contender for the prize. For someone else to win meant beating Yuri’s time and score.
But what Yuri had done was nigh impossible.
Yuuri took in a steady breath. Well then, he would just have to do one better than impossible, for he wasn’t planning on losing today.
And now the trap is sprung.
Why struggle in vain?
Love has tied your little wings,
Sprinkled you with cheap perfume, set you fainting in the fire
And given you, in your thirst, hot tears to drink.
- Meleager
Atalanta wasted her time by luring the Cetus out by feinting, Yuri wasted his by focusing on getting the Cetus out of the ocean by having his steeds create a tide large enough using the strength of their beating wings to wash the Cetus out of the ocean.
Admirable strategies, but not ones Yuuri would or could emulate. He didn’t have the time for the first nor the steeds for the second. He needed to get in and out before time was up, he couldn’t afford to play around with the Cetus. So, that only left…
“Ready?” Phichit asked, Yuuri looked up from where he had been staring at while Phichit fixed his wings.
Yuuri nodded and tested his arm movement.
Good enough.
Huh, Yuuri thought ruefully as he sheathed his sword, guess it was a good thing I am the last one flying against the Cetus. Because after I’m done, there won’t be a Cetus left for the next person to try flying against.
“Yuuri, you mustn’t forget.” Phichit said, somber and determined, “Don’t fly too close to the ocean lest the ocean spray get in the feathers and make it too heavy to fly or too close to the sun which will melt the wax holding the wings together. Don’t-”
Yuuri laid a hand on Phichit’s arm and squeezed tightly. The time for words was over. Phichit, something dark and unnameable in his eyes, stopped speaking, eyes reluctant, but didn’t stop Yuuri as he walked away and into the evening light peeking through the tent opening.
Minako was waiting outside.
Yuuri strode past her, only to stop as she said, voice as deep as the oceans themselves, “I will be the first face you see when you leave the ocean. Don’t leave me waiting for too long, you hear?”
Yuuri paused and taking strength from her words, continued walking, but not fast enough for the wind to miss carrying over one last whisper of “Stubborn Child.”
He walked to the edge of the cliff and looked out at the sun, the sky, the ocean and the crowds.
The crowd was loud, had they been this loud the whole time without Yuuri noticing?, and the magical devices responsible for sending his image to every Scrying Screen in the world were turned towards him. They wanted a spectacle, they wanted excitement and they wanted something to take home to talk about. So that decades later they could tell their grandchildren that they were there when so-and-so happened.
But what Yuri had done had been seemingly impossible and a twist of fate. They all weren’t expecting Yuuri to be able to top Yuri’s performance. No one was. Nothing could be achieved without daring for more, when you carried the dreams of all those you held dear, you couldn’t afford to be content with your lot in life. Yuuri set his jaw and raised his face toward the sun.
Watch this, then.
The timer went off, and so did Yuuri, taking a running leap off of the cliff.
The crowd screamed as he fell, and Yuuri waited until he could see the creature under the water stir and rise, much like it had with Atalanta.
But Yuuri didn’t have time for that level of lassitude. Yuuri drew out a dagger and threw it at the creature stirring within.
The creature roared.
Yuuri smiled and using his arms, opened his wings.
The bursts of wind from the Cetus’s outrage only aiding Yuuri, as he arched away from the snapping mouth, water splashing everywhere.
Rhythm or gait. When flying, one must be regular, even and level. Such that any bard could easily compose a song based on your movements alone.
Yuuri focused, evading the water and the Cetus who seemed to have had enough with meddlesome heroes and probably full of rage about her missing eggs.
Relaxation or looseness. One must be free from the anxieties and insecurities, the only thing you must think about is your steed and the wind.
Yuuri forced his mind away from every way this could go wrong and inclines his body to twirl around the body of the Cetus, much like a dancer, leaving cuts from the metal edges of the wings in its wake.
Contact or the impact of your thrust, you must work with your steed rather than against them.
The Cetus twisted away, but Yuuri followed, relentless.
Impulsion or pushing power. Your steed must be ready to deliver maximum impact with minimal effort exerted.
The Cetus was moving against the direction of the wind, in a direction which would make it hard for Yuuri to follow without having to exert extra effort fighting the wind in addition to the Cetus.
Clever.
But not enough to evade me.
Yuuri increased the thrust of his wings and decreased the drag by drawing his arms closer to his body, reducing the open wing span, and continued his assault on the Cetus.
Straightness or posture. Your and your steed’s bodies must follow the line of direction of travel.
The Cetus, still twisting and writhing, had left an opening. Yuuri pushed his feet forward until they were extended toward the back of the Cetus, and arched his back to enable him to land on the Cetus.
And finally, the most difficult of them all, Collection. If you miss even one of the previous steps, you will never reach this stage. In essence, it is the horse's ability to move its centre of gravity to the rear while lifting the free span of its back to better round under the rider. Collection is natural for horses and is often seen during pasture play. A Collected horse can move more freely than one who isn’t.
Yuuri withdrew his sword and plunged it into the back of the Cetus.
The Cetus buckled, twisting every way to get away, but Yuuri held on.
It wasn’t enough. He needed more-
Yuuri threw more force into his sword and forced it downward. He closed his wings completely, letting gravity pull him and his sword downward, slicing the Cetus further.
It was only when he could feel the ocean spray on his face that Yuuri threw open his wings, and let the wind take him further away.
Yuuri watched as the Cetus, now critically wounded, stilled and swayed, movements more erratic than before, until she fell into the ocean and was consumed by it.
This left-
In the second between the drop of the Cetus’s body and the ocean momentarily receding due to the force of the impact, leaving the nest open to Yuuri, Yuuri swooped in and with arms reaching, grabbed an egg from the nest before flying away.
With the egg firmly in his arms and safe in the air, Yuuri closed his eyes and prayed to the gods for the Cetus and her unborn children.
When Yuuri opened his eyes he saw a crowd on their feet, screaming his name. Yuuri blinked and remembered.
He looked at the timer.
Oh.
He had beat Yuri’s score by a minute.
That meant-
It meant…
Yuuri felt rather than allowed the tears to fall.
Oh.
He had won.
He had-
Yuuri heard a pop.
And watched as a wooden slat fell to the ocean from his wings.
Eyes wide, Yuuri realized that more and more slats were falling to the ocean than he’d realized, but why-
The sun!
The evening sun was closer than he’d realized. The wax holding the wings together was melting. He was falling!
Yuuri pursed his lips as the crowd realized what was happening.
No.
Not like this.
If this is to be my last flight, I will make Helios himself sit up and take notice. If I am to die today, I will die knowing that even the sun couldn’t outshine me at this very moment.
Yuuri opened his wings and flew towards a nearby rock to leave the egg on, if anything, he was unwilling to let another die with him.
Yuuri kept his arms almost to his side and plummeted toward the rock, as his wings came apart around him.
He could reach it-
It was so close-
Almost-
The ocean rose with the tide, spray hitting Yuuri’s face until he could taste the salt.
Yuuri, you mustn’t forget.
Yuuri’s eyes widened as his fight deviated from the arc he had planned to reach the rock, the wings suddenly seemed heavier than before.
The rock was still looming, but with his current trajectory, it wouldn’t be his feet meeting it.
Yuuri threw out his arms, widening his wing span, hoping against hope, but-
The egg in his hands fell as-
Yuuri fell back into the ocean. He watched as the noise of the crowd became indistinct and his vision was blurred from the blood spreading from the injury to his head.
He watched, arms outstretched, wings dragging him further into the ocean’s awaiting arms.
One moment he was falling and the next, he wasn’t.
A force pushed him out of the ocean, until Yuuri was sure he was imagining it, for surely-
He could feel the sun on his face and a hard surface supporting his back from hitting the water again. Every bone in his body felt heavy with lassitude. His head felt cold, but he knew he had hit it. How could it be there was no pain, for surely he wasn’t mistaken, his head had hit the rock as he-
Oh.
He was dying.
I am afraid that because of my failings, I am going to lose you again, Yuuri. This time forever.
Yuuri struggled to open his eyes to meet the blurry, red-tinged skies. Funny, it was a lovely day. Tis a pity, he chose such a bad day to die on.
He could hear distant screams. Why were they screaming? It was such a lovely day.
They sounded familiar. Yuuri should see if he could help.
It truly was too fine a day to be so upset.
Hmm, gotten gutsy have you? Who are you and what have you done with my crybaby brother?
Yuuri tried to move, but it seemed as if his body was feeling more rebellious than usual. But as the ocean water lapped at his body and the warmth of the sun shone on him, he couldn’t muster up enough ire for his disobedient muscles. But if Minako - dear, dignified, Minako - were here, she’d never stand for this lethargy that was seeping into him. Not after how long she’d spent training him.
No, I don’t believe you can hope to aspire to reach Hercules’s heights… I believe you can and will one day surpass him.
Training him to be a Hero, someone who could- who could...
Yuuri felt like he was forgetting something.
Oh, his thoughts were water and his clumsy grasps weren’t enough to pierce together a thought anymore.
I’ll be back! And I’ll bring some apples. Wish me luck, old friend. I’ll see you soon.
The screams seemed to have gotten louder, but also somehow, they sounded farther away than before.
Was he going somewhere? Or were they leaving?
Yuuri hoped-
Yuuri, that dance, it- it reminded me of what I have to lose. Yuuri-
Yuuri could- he could see silver skies ahead, but he didn’t want to- there were people waiting for him...
A golden light, somehow familiar by presence if not by features, appeared. It was beckoning.
He couldn’t-
Yuuri, please w-
And the Fates, just as quickly and uncaring of his preparation for entering the world cared naught then, they practiced the same irreverence now, indiscriminate and deaf to the screams in the distance and Yuuri-
Yuuri knew no more.
On the morn of the Summer Solstice, in front of a crowd of thousands, Yuuri Katsuki died.
Notes:
... so, worth the wait?
I'd love to hear from you in the comments below or Tumblr, Twitter,Pillowfort or even Discord if you're so inclined.
See you next time!
Chapter 7: The First Day of Forever
Notes:
guys, i think i'm done w h a a a a t
Oh dear Helios, it has been A Journey, but I have reached a natural pausing point before I continue and I'm so???????? overwhelmed?????????
I've had this whole chapter in my docs for a month or so but I wasn't feeling it exactly. There were a few things I was :rage eyes: about and I didn't feel right publishing it until I felt good about it.
I think I've reached a good enough point where I'm happy with the story I've told so far. This wouldn't have been possible without my wonderful beta Chrome who is a Helios-sent angel.
But yeah... this is it for now.
Youtube Playlist for this fic
I was listening to Petit Biscuit - You when writing this.I am happy to say for the last time for this fic...
Happy Reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yuuri woke up all at once; asleep one moment and aware of every sound in the room the next.
He opened his eyes only to immediately clench them back shut as they were pierced by an overwhelmingly bright light. With his hands firmly on his sensitive eyes, Yuuri tried to move from where he lay but getting up required more effort than he’d expected as something heavy weighed him down from behind.
Curious and for some reason not at all alarmed at having woken up in a strange place with no memory of how he’d gotten there, Yuuri removed his hand and tried opening his eyes again. The same bright, warm light that had hurt him before now somehow seemed easier to bear as Yuuri took in how it flooded every curve of the circular room. The room was open and bright, probably aided by the fact that it had no roof restraining the afternoon sunlight from pouring in.
The clouds seemed to be closer than ever before. Yuuri felt like if he reached out, his hands would run right through one. He reached forward, almost compelled to try and see if it were so, but his hand stopped short,unable to go any further as his body was bowed down by an unknown weight.
Yuuri reached to touch his back which seemed to be heavier than usual to try and determine the source of that weight, only for his hands to meet something cold and hard. Yuuri, who couldn’t bring himself to muster up more than lukewarm curiosity at this development, not when he was surrounded by such open warmth and beauty, forced himself to concentrate. He got up slowly, legs on the warm floor, dressed in a flimsy chiton that came to his knees and arched his back to look behind himself.
Oh.
He had wings.
Sleek, silver metallic ones with sharpened wingtips.
Yuuri felt like he should be more alarmed than he was currently feeling. But he felt oddly... at peace.
Yuuri ran a finger over a silver edge, marveling at its lethal beauty right before he gasped with surprise. It was sharper than he’d anticipated; Yuuri watched as the skin on his index finger was punctured.
The blood that flowed out of the open wound was blue.
Yuuri stared at his finger and felt like his head had just broken through the surface of the water.
Yuuri got up, heedless of the weight of the wings attached to his back. It seemed as if there was someone out there who owed Yuuri some answers, and if the ichor flowing through Yuuri’s veins was any indication, there was little anyone could do to prevent him from getting them.
Yuuri stepped out of the majestic doors whose height ended as curves in graceful arcs and into the hallway, the lethargic calm that had taken over his being only moments earlier dispelled. But even in his state of urgency, Yuuri couldn’t hold in an admiring gasp as he took in the hallway.
The hallway - if it could even be called that considering it was wide enough for an entire army to march through without anyone’s shoulders touching - was filled with sunflowers. Sunflowers that seemed to all be pointing in the same direction.
But… Yuuri looked at the sun, easily visible with the lack of any overarching barriers; the sun was in the opposite direction from where the sunflowers were pointing towards.
Well then, that was as good a sign as any. Yuuri, guided by the sunflowers, walked further into the hallway.
As Yuuri walked, less clothed and more winged than before, he wondered how the owner of this house kept from catching a chill, seeing as how their house lacked a roof.
It was impractical, was what it was, Yuuri thought, but even his inner critic couldn’t bring itself to attach any vitriol to it, too busy being charmed by the sheer, overwhelming beauty of his surroundings. And, his inner critic tried to argue, it’s not like there were any signs of an evening chill right now, maybe this house was one of those enchanted lands that couldn’t be bothered by mortal concerns such as weather and roofs.
He seemed to be getting closer to his destination, if the sharpness of the incline of the sunflowers’ heads were any indication. Yuuri shook himself out of his thoughts, it wouldn’t do to be distracted. Who knew what manner of monster or foul fiend he would find soon.
He needed answers, about how he had gotten here, why they had taken him and what they wanted from him. He wanted to know about the wings that were weighing his every step down and the blood of the Immortals that was now flowing through his body. Yuuri quickened his steps, until...
Yuuri could hear laughter, bright chiming things that reminded Yuuri of temple bells and open, unabashed amusement born out of the privilege of safety, full bellies and warm hearths. There was a door half blocked from sight by the ever-shifting clouds, somehow even grander than the one in the room Yuuri had woken up in, whose height seemed to reach up to the heavens themselves.
It was thrown wide open as if welcoming someone home.
Yuuri could wait and gather more information before he acted, or… he could attempt to use the element of surprise and gauge information real-time.
But as Yuuri was considering his options, another voice joined the laughter.
“Don’t laugh!” A voice called out, bright and cloaked in hidden cheer. Yuuri stopped. His entire world seemed to stand still at that voice. He had heard that voice before!
It was-
“You know I am very foolish about him, I always have been. But, in my defence-” The voice continued, unaware of how every syllable of his seemed to send Yuuri’s heart beating out of his chest.
“-Can you cast even a sliver of blame upon my poor self?”
Yuuri, almost unbidden, took a step forward.
“Left to languish in my unrequited affections for years on end!”
Another step.
“Why, I deserve recompense!” the voice, still making a valiant though unsuccessful attempt at pretending irritation, called out.
Dramatic as always, Yuuri couldn’t help but think, moving faster than before. Before the voice and its owner disappeared, just like it had in the past.
The sunflowers seemed to blur in a sea of yellow. Until finally, Yuuri was inside, uncaring of stealth or making a show of false confidence. Not that it would matter, not that he would need to project any strength, not when…
“Why-” The voice broke off mid-sentence.
And for the first time in half a decade, Yuuri saw the being who would dance with him, whose whispers of support and silver skies had kept Yuuri going on higher, faster, deeper.
Who would appear in Yuuri’s dreams as slivers of bright light and urge him to meet him halfway.
That being was now in front of him, after more than half a decade of hide and seek.
That being was now sitting on an emerald throne being fed grapes and being plied with wine by attendants.
That being was now… naked?
Yuuri blinked.
That couldn’t possibly be right. Yuuri looked again, blinked, and then looked a third time, just to be sure.
“Yuuri!” The voice - or more precisely - its long, silver-haired owner burst out, with enough cheer in tone alone to persuade a seed to burst through the mud and give fruit. That voice combined with the feathered wings - golden, with orange, purple and pink hues, like the sun in the evening sky - that seemed to span the entire room and the flower crown made up of sunflowers perched on his silver head, was simply too much for Yuuri’s poor, overstimulated mind to process.
Then the man - no, Immortal, Yuuri was sure of it, stood up, almost bouncing in his apparent excitement, and Yuuri was glad - if only for his blood pressure alone - that his initial summary had been wrong. The being was clothed. Just not terribly so. A flimsily, and yet artfully, placed cloth protected the being’s modesty from the people in the room.
Yuuri distantly wondered if not having to be clothed was symptomatic of living in a house without a roof, or if the lack of a roof was because of the lack of clothes. Which came first, Yuuri mused absentmindedly.
The being walked forward, taking light steps that almost seemed like he was dancing to music most would be so lucky to hear as the heads of the sunflowers lining the hall followed along.
Yuuri was not awake enough for this.
The Immortal moved closer. His eyes were blue.
Alright, let’s get this straight, there was blue and then there was Blue. Looking into the Immortal’s eyes felt like riding his pterippus, the wind running through his hair, like free-falling with the assurance of safety. Yuuri could hear a ringing in his ears the longer he looked.
The being kept walking towards him and for every step he took, Yuuri could feel himself burning all the more.
His throat was dry, and his heart racing.
But he couldn’t look away.
For all his burning, the Fates themselves could be cutting his life-thread in front of him, and he wouldn’t be able to look away. Yuuri could hear the ocean’s call somewhere in the distance.
The Immortal stopped and smiled, bright, beautiful and brilliant.
And Yuuri...
Yuuri fainted.
What meant my song-
What end my frenzied thoughts pursue-
For what loved youth I spread anew
My amorous nets-"Who, Sappho, who
Hath done thee wrong?
What though he fly, he'll soon return—
Still press thy gifts, though now he spurn;
Heed not his coldness—soon he'll burn,
E'en though thou chide."
- Sappho, Hymn To Venus
Yuuri woke up feeling like he’d been born anew.
He opened his eyes and discovered that he was lying in the same room he had woken up in earlier. Only unlike last time, he wasn’t alone.
Yuuri stared at the figure who was sleeping while sitting upright in a chair beside him, hand clasping Yuuri’s own and wearing not much more than before.
And maybe it was his movement that gave him away or maybe it was the force of his stare, but the previously closed eyes started to open lazily, as if no creature on neither heaven nor earth were enough to rouse him, let alone challenge him.
But that image of momentary lassitude was shattered the second those blue eyes caught Yuuri’s own.
“Yuuri!” The being sat up quickly, wide-eyed, his graceful movement making him seem like the very image of distilled energy. He reached forward and laid the back of his right hand over Yuuri’s forehead, as if checking his temperature, the movement happening before Yuuri’s mind could even register it.
Yuuri flinched, unable to help the impulse despite knowing that any Immortal would rightly take that as an insult. Immortals, and that was what this being was - of this Yuuri was certain - didn’t take too kindly to being rejected, even impulsively.
But it appeared as if this Immortal, if the way he moved away was any indication, didn’t appear to be wondering how to best turn Yuuri into a tree.
They stared at each other. The being’s eyes swept Yuuri’s face as if trying to read his every thought from it. Yuuri, who had been trying to use silence to ascertain his situation without much success, decided that actively participating in this interaction would yield him more success.
“Yuuri-” the being started.
“What are you,” Yuuri asked as stoically as he could manage while stomping over his bleating heart.
Those blue eyes widened, enough for Yuuri to see how the light in them dimmed at his words.
“Ah,” the being said carefully, “I- suppose I musn’t be too surprised that you don’t remember, but I must still admit- But anyway, that is to be expected,” the Immortal said, with a bright smile that didn’t look as authentic as the ones before.
Surprise? No, it wasn’t surprise that Yuuri had seen flickering through the Immortal’s ever-shifting eyes; rather, it had looked a lot like disappointment.
The Immortal continued, voice deceivingly cheery, “Well, what do you think I am?”
Feeling like he was about to leap off a cliff with no way of knowing whether his wings would keep him afloat, Yuuri looked back cooly and said, “I think that if I cut you with my sword, you’d bleed blue.”
The being’s eyes widened and he looked at Yuuri incredulously for a moment before a small, blooming smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, and huffing a laugh that seemed to carry worlds within it, shaking his head, said, “You claim me an Immortal, and yet you think it wise to threaten me, in my own territory nonetheless?”
Yuuri arched an eyebrow and waspishly said, “I am bound by the laws of hospitality just as you are, My Lord.”
Now openly amused, the being, making no attempt to hide his smiling mouth, laid his head upon the back of his hand whose elbow was perched on Yuuri’s bed frame, the movement making him closer to Yuuri than before.
The being chimed blithely, almost provokingly, “Hm, reminding me of my manners in my own home, Icarus. How very bold. There aren’t many that would dare to do half the same, you know.”
Yuuri, knowing he was possibly digging his heels into spending the rest of his life as a tree, looked back and said evenly, “The perks of the ignorant, My Lord. ”
The being laughed, as if charmed, and said, “Yuuri, I would never presume you as being anywhere near the vicinity of that word. Imprudent, yes...”
Yuuri drew up, offended, but the Immortal wasn’t finished with his list, moving his head to tick off Yuuri’s flaws on the tips of his fingers.
“Rash, very much so. Beautiful, charming, brave, incandescent...” The Immortal said, smiling softly as Yuuri’s heart stuttered, “inarguably and indelibly so, but ignorant? No, Yuuri, I’m afraid that claim does ring a little false.”
Yuuri, breathless but not entirely sure why, found the strength to say, “Just a little, My Lord?”
The Immortal threw his head back as his shoulders shook with mirth, and he said, grinning vividly, his joy almost coloring the air, “Well, you did just threaten me bodily harm, my love.”
“I’m just saying, a “little” isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement for the contrary, so I’m afraid if you would like to convincingly dissuade me of the notion, you’re going to have to try harder,” Yuuri said, ignoring the way his stomach was trying to swoop out of his body and the end of the Immortal’s sentence, because he was not ready to open that line of thought.
“Your wish is my command,” The Immortal said in response, not missing a beat.
Yuuri looked back, praying he didn’t look as affected as he felt, and said, “My Lord, if that is the case, then, I’ll ask you again: who and what are you? Why did you appear in my dreams for so long and not reveal yourself before? Where am I? How did I get here? What-”
“Victor.”
Yuuri looked up, not having realized that his words had started to descend into a rant until the voice cut him off and he realized how empty the air seemed without his voice tearing through it.
The being was looking back at him, eyes soft and without judgement.
“What,” Yuuri said, voice hoarse.
“That’s my name or at least, it has been for many centuries now,” The be- Victor said, voice even, “As for what I am... I am, as you have correctly deduced, an Immortal. You know me by many names, but the one I suppose you are most familiar with would be the name I was given at birth.”
“Which was?” Yuuri asked.
Victor smiled slightly but remained silent as if urging Yuuri to answer his own question. But Yuuri had no response no matter how much he racked his brain, what kind of Immortal named himself Victor anyway?
Yuuri huffed slightly, it seemed like he wouldn’t be getting his answer today and opened his mouth to press further but before he could, Victor spoke again.
Victor said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself, “I suppose one day I might get used to the ever-changing nature of you. I might even get used to how you keep surprising me. You are probably the only being I’ve ever met to keep me, the all-seeing entity, on his toes. But in my heart I hope I never do. All this time, I thought you wouldn’t recognize me, even though my heart wished for the contrary, and to know that my silly heart might have actually gotten its wish is… well, it feels like too much for one being to have.”
“It’s not silly,” Yuuri found himself saying before his mind had even allowed it.
Yuuri continued, almost as if moved by an otherworldly force, but with a voice that was beating with sincerity, “It’s not silly. Everybody, no matter their position or place, deserves to be remembered.”
“There you go again,” Victor murmured, “surprising me.”
Yuuri felt himself redden and heart stuttering a staccato song and he looked away, unable to bear the weight of Victor’s gaze.
“But anyway, questions can wait,” Victor said finally. “How are you feeling?”
Yuuri, confused at the question, said, “I’m feeling better than I ever have before, why do you ask?”
Victor’s face seemed to undergo a series of rapidfire transformations until it settled on chagrin, as he said, “That would be the ambrosia talking.”
“What.”
Victor, as if seeming to anticipate the fire that had started to rage in Yuuri’s body, was quick to assure, hands flying everywhere, “Earlier! When you walked into the room you started to burn! I think it’s because some of your previous mortal blood must have still been in your bloodstream and the sight of me in my Immortal form...”
Yuuri felt dread curdle in his stomach. For a mortal, looking at a primordial being in their rawest form meant certain death, and for Yuuri to only get away with a little fainting and being able to consume ambrosia - the food of the Immortals - with no repercussions that could only confirm…
“Luckily!” Victor said, clapping his hands once as if dispelling Yuuri’s thoughts away, “we had some ambrosia on hand, one sip and you were good as new! almost no post-singeing at all!” Victor said brightly.
Yuuri’s eye twitched.
Almost?!
“Well, I couldn’t check everywhere, could I?” Victor said bashfully before continuing stoutly, “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly. Unlike some people, I would never dream of doing anything too untoward upon an unsuspecting person! I am not interested in anything without your enthusiastic consent.”
Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose, and oh how he wished he didn’t know who Victor was talking about, but Victor had a point.
“But,” Victor continued with a smile so bright it hurt to look at, hopping closer to Yuuri and leaned up until Victor’s nose almost touched Yuuri’s, as he examined him like a specimen in a zoo, “Now that you are awake, we can get to know each other better. Tell me - Do you have a lover?”
W-What?!
“No?” Victor hummed, visage becoming brighter, “What about any ex-lovers?”
It seemed that now that Yuuri knew Victor was an Immortal, Victor wasn’t interested in even pretending to not be able to pick Yuuri’s thoughts from his head like an open all-you-can-eat buffet offering.
Head still reeling from the barrage of information, Yuuri made sure to make his displeasure known in his head.
Stop reading my mind!
Victor looked hurt.
“But how else will we get to know each other better?” he asked, innocent in his confusion, big blue eyes prominent.
“By talking! like normal people!” Yuuri snapped, not backing away.
Victor cocked his head, one of the nearby sunflowers following the movement.
“Talking!” Victor said wondrously as if he had never heard of the concept despite having participated in it all his life, “Yes! Let’s talk!”
Victor swung his bare legs up and somehow managed to sit on Yuuri’s bedside chair with his legs crossed, with his modesty safe.
“Now?” Yuuri asked, off-footed.
Victor blinked. “Yes? Surely you have questions for me, you never seemed to - despite my efforts - ever stop thinking,” Victor finished, almost... fondly.
Oh.
Right.
“Where are we?” Yuuri asked looking around the open-roofed room, although “room” was too humble a name for where he lay.
Victor smiled like the bright tinkle of the evening chimes, lighting up almost instantly, “Oh, do you like it?! This is my home.”
Off-footed but also thinking the answer apropos considering the nature of Victor and the impractical and grand beauty of this abode, Yuuri asked again, “Yes, but- where are we?”
Waving a careless hand, Victor just said, “Oh, East.”
Well, that answered nothing.
For a moment he lay contemplating whether he should press further or not, but his heart wasn’t in the specifics, because what he really wanted to know was...
“Why did you do it?” Yuuri asked tentatively, half afraid of the answer, “Make the effort, I mean? All these years, appearing in my dreams, motivating me but never showing yourself… Why did you do it?”
Victor hummed, considering the question, eyes traveling the room and seeming to see something other than the open sky and clouds.
“At the beginning it was curiosity I suppose, and I didn’t want to chance my identity being revealed in case it ended at that.”
Oh.
Victor blinked and suddenly he was looking at Yuuri and no longer some nameless spectre in the clouds.
“But then, I didn’t…..A ‘no’ is very definite, don’t you think? Victor said with a sad smile on his face.
I am not interested in anything without your enthusiastic consent.
Yuuri swallowed.
Victor lightly clapped his hands and said, “But I think it’s time for heroes to go to bed, it’s starting to get late and I don’t want you to miss your first sun rise. The view, I’ve been told, is simply wonderous,” Victor said without an ounce of innuendo, Yuuri could almost feel his soft light infusing the air a warm yellow with his joy.
Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, not quite ready for slumber but before he could, his body betrayed him by letting out a large yawn.
Victor laughed and after gracefully rising, left with a wave of his hand.
Yuuri huffed.
He wasn’t done with all of his questions!
Sighing, Yuuri lay down and he was out before his head even hit his pillow.
Yuuri’s dreams were tinged silver and yellow, and for the first time he heard a voice through it all.
“For so many years, I have been looking - seeing but not speaking. Hearing but not being heard...”
“And now that you’re here… It was lovely, to finally get a chance to talk.”
“Thank you for talking to me.”
Yuuri could feel his heart ache as the light carefully reached forward to touch-
He woke up with a gasp, hand clutching his cheek, still warm from where that light had touched him.
Where was-
“There you are! I was starting to think I might have to devolve to immoral measures to wake you up,” a voice said from near him.
Yuuri turned, only to see Victor, bedecked in jewels and ceremonial robes staring back at him from his position underneath a large flaming torch, the light making the gold in his jewellery and the silver of his hair gleam like starlight.
“Immoral measures.” Yuuri said flatly.
“Well yes, if you’d continued on in that fashion for a moment longer I might have been compelled to throw a jar of the coldest water in the mortal world on your sleeping form to wake you up.” Victor said seriously.
Yuuri stared, that was a much worse punishment than he had imagined Victor to be capable of.
“Compelled by what?” Yuuri asked, trying not to shiver at the very thought.
“There are only two things that can compel even a mighty Immortal to revise their schedule, Yuuri. One is fate, and the other is time.” Victor said.
“Time? Time for what? It’s still dark outside! What could you possibly have to do right now?” Yuuri asked, confused.
Victor quirked his lips and said, “Exactly, my love, I think the world has slept for long enough, don’t you think? It’s time to wake up them all up. Come on.”
Victor took Yuuri’s hand and pulled him along.
Yuuri tried to shake himself awake as they walked, fast enough for his surroundings to blur from sight, until Victor stopped and just… stood still for a moment, not even moving as Yuuri crashed into him at the sudden halt.
“Victor. What are we doing?” Yuuri asked, tiredly, too tired to move from his position on Victor’s back, he could probably go to sleep like this, with his head and body pillowed on Victor’s back.
Victor took in a deep breath, a move Yuuri could feel with his own body.
“We, Yuuri,” Victor said, a smile in his voice,“are going to make the sun rise.”
Shaking himself to stand by himself as Victor - finally - turned back to look at him.
Who are you?
Victor was... alight, Yuuri thought distantly, not- not literally, though Yuuri wouldn’t put that past him, but by his smile alone. He was light itself.
The torch Victor was carrying didn’t have even an iota of brightness on him.
Victor winked and turned.
Yuuri watched as Victor whistled, sharp and commanding to the open sky, and reached out a hand, calling.
For a beat nothing happened.
Then, Yuuri could hear it.
Yuuri watched, wide-eyed, as a chariot of four white sky horses rode through the air, drawing closer to where they stood.
Within the span of a blink, Victor’s hand had closed upon the reigns and he had swung up to the helm of chariot.
“Watch me, Yuuri.” Victor called out, as if Yuuri could ever bear to look away.
Victor’s head, Yuuri noticed, which was previously crowned by his silver locks alone was now accompanied by a crown of golden rays, the light bright against the backdrop of the night.
The sky horses, with a toss of their heads, started to beat their wings faster, Yuuri could only watch helplessly, hair flying with the force of the wind, as it carried Victor away.
The sky horses began their ascent and with them, so did the Sun.
Helios, Yuuri realized with a dawning sense of horror, Sol, Panoptes, The Titan Lord of the Sun. All along, I’ve been in-
Victor leaned out and reached out the tip of his finger and the clouds, previously darkened by the night were suddenly turned into the bright colors of the dawn.
I’ve been in the company of a Titan.
Yuuri tried to reconcile bright, sweet, beautiful Victor with the tales of the ruthless Titans who had battled the Gods for dominance. Despite calling Victor an Immortal, Yuuri had never thought that he would be one of the first beings to have existed in the world. The Gods were deceitful and fickle in their favour, everyone knew that. But no one had ever heard of a Titan giving a single mortal their favor, even Helios saving Hasetsu had been unprecedented. Yuuri had no reference to pull cues from.
As the chariot moved, the sky behind it was left streaked with color - purple, red, pink, more colors than Yuuri had ever seen in his life. Yuuri didn’t move even as the chariot faded out of sight, heart thumping a wild beat in his chest as the world woke up in Victor’s wake.
It seemed like he stood there forever and at the same time for no time at all, lost in his thoughts, staring at the horizon.
“Well... What did you think?” A voice asked coquettishly from behind him.
Yuuri turned only to see an impish-looking Victor behind him.
“V-Victor!” Yuuri yelped, “But you were just-”
Victor laughed, the morning light almost curling around him like a content feline, and said, “Say what you want about the one-way trip from Hesperides to my palace through a cup but it sure is quick.”
Yuuri blinked, trying to make sense of all the new information. But it was something about the lightness of Victor’s joy that helped quell the buzzing in Yuuri’s mind.
No. Victor was not like the rest of the Immortals.
“So, so… you really are him.” Yuuri muttered, disbelievingly, “This is all yours?”
Victor hummed and walked forward to stare at the sun, bright and beaming, in the sky for a moment, before turning back to Yuuri.
He raised both his arms to his side, with the sun to his back said, “Everything the light touches is mine and-” Victor stalled.
Victor stared at Yuuri for a second before continuing, alit, “and it could be yours as well. All you have to do is agree.”
“Agree to what?” Yuuri asked, confused.
Lowering his arms, Victor looked at Yuuri solemnly, and opened his mouth to speak, only-
“Victor, you unfettered asshole, where in Hades’s name are you?!” An angry voice boomed through the air.
Yuuri’s eyes widened. That voice, it sounded… familiar somehow, like he’d heard it in a distant dream.
He turned, his eyes catching on green ones, before-
Yuuri gasped, clutching his head as voices - dear and frantic - rushed into it.
I am afraid that because of my failings-
Hmm, gotten gutsy have you? Who are you-
No, I don’t believe you can hope to aspire to reach Hercules’s heights-
I’ll be back! And I’ll bring some apples. Wish me luck-
“Yuuri! Yuuri! Talk to me!” Victor’s voice exclaimed from above him, but Yuuri could no longer respond, too caught up in his memories.
Yuuri, that dance, it- it reminded me of what I have to lose. Yuuri-
“It’s Lethe’s Lash! You were supposed to not trigger him until he remembers on his own, asshole! What did you do?!” Another voice screamed.
My name is-
“Get him some Ambrosia! Quickly, before-” Victor called out.
Remember it well.
“Stop.” Yuuri gritted out.
Suddenly, as if an Immortal had taken away all speech, all was quiet.
Yuuri Katsuki opened his eyes, staggered up, drew open his wings, and demanded in a tone that wouldn’t allow for any excuses.
“No one is going anywhere. Not until one of you tells me what is going on.”
Wide-eyed, Victor and Yuri stare back at him.
To Be Continued...
Notes:
...
Thank you so much for accompanying me so far, it truly has been an honor to write for you. I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I did.
Don't worry because this isn't the end! There will be a sequel out soon with more information (Esp about the dreams stuff but if you go back and read the previous chapters you'll notice that it had been hinted at vaguely).
IMPORTANT NOTE
I noticed that many of you might not have AO3 accounts and might not be able to subscribe to this series/my account for updates. So! if you'd like to be updated whenever this series updates next/I write another fic please fill out this form and I'll email you when I do (Along with many behind the scenes and previews)!
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Tumblr, Twitter,Pillowfort or even Discord if you're so inclined!See you Soon!
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