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Victor.
That was the name the Healer had given him. An ode to his past lives, for his past achievements.
"It should suit you well until you decide for yourself." She had said with a warm smile. He had been able to blame his still new facial muscles for not smiling back.
Apparently, the name was a wordplay in this host’s native language, his new body's memories supplied. Victor, like a winner.
Victor didn't feel like a winner.
Eight lives. Eight full, long lives lived on eight different planets, in eight different hosts. None of them had been able to give him that sense of belonging other souls spoke of when they found their home planet.
Sometimes it was the dragging immobility that got to him, frustrating him like it shouldn't. Other times it was the lack of sight in an otherwise vibrant planet, like when he lived in the Singing World, the Blind World, as they called it here. And sometimes, sometimes he just couldn't explain it — a feeling. The pull to the stars.
When he was a bear, it had been the closest he'd ever come to choosing a planet. The ice suited him and the creative nature of the hosts matched himself in a way hosts like the spiders for example never had. But even then, even surrounded by the most beautiful ice cities imaginable, in a perfectly able host, his gaze had often wandered back to the skies, towards other lives.
Maybe that's why this new planet had excited him so. A peaceful looking planet of blues and greens with gentle clouds of white. But there was more to this planet than what could be seen from the outside, there was excitement in this new world, even rumours of wars. Wars!
These humans… They felt so much. With five full senses, more than any of his previous hosts had had, they were social creatures with such extraordinarily strong emotions of love and bonds, but also hate and destruction that leads the souls to believe that we could do better than them.
That was years ago for this planet’s orbit now though. There was no more wars or crime. No resistance. Only peace.
Victor thought he would like it here.
As he stood here now in front of the hospital room mirror, he thought that, objectively, this new body was good, suitable, healthy and strong. Firm muscles shaped its thighs, thick from running, his mind told him. Victor could remember this body doing a lot of running. But not much else. For some reason, the memories of this host weren't easily accessible to him like they had been in all of his other lives. Like they should be.
Here… here he was suddenly faced with a black wall of resistance deep in his mind when he tried to remember further.
Victor wondered, what had this body gone through before he got here? Before the souls got here and took over the planet?
Slowly, Victor reached out a tan arm, flicking brown eyes over it slowly before touching the tips of its fingers with his mirror self.
This body… was beautiful.
Night black hair that reminded him of the vast space skies, dotted here and there with sun-bleached lines. Creamy skin, smooth to perfection except for the fine pink insertion scar in the back of the neck. Intelligent eyes filled with life and lo—
A light flashed past the window of the room, blinding him for a moment. Victor blinked quickly to see through the light bouncing back from his eyes. He looked at the body again. Silver light shone deep from its eyes, a spectrum of colors clashing to the space around them from the flare, almost obscuring the lovely warmth of their original brown color.
No.
He was here now...
Not the body.
His body.
His eyes. His eyes that shined with the gleam of a soul deep within instead of the life that had been here before.
Whatever had happened to his body before, whoever was here before, they were gone now. It didn't matter.
No .
Victor froze, the muscles of his body literally locking down. He didn't think that.
He swallowed.
It was quiet.
“It was nothing,” Victor whispered to himself, taking reassurance in the steadiness of his voice in the silence. His body could breathe again.
No!
A gasp.
Not your body.
Victor's lungs crushed in on themselves painfully. He didn't like that.
That voice… it was his voice… except… not.
He didn't think those words, they didn't sound like him despite the voice being undeniably the same as the one he had just used to speak.
That's right, I'm still here!
Victor's legs collapsed under him. For a brief moment he was torn out of his panic, thinking there was something wrong with this body's legs, but all too soon his mind corrected him again, reminding him of how it was a normal reaction to shock.
Shock…
When was the last time Victor had felt shocked? Had he ever?
“No… You can't be here!” He spoke out loud again, fighting to keep the sound steady as he watched his face in the mirror like he was afraid the image might speak back to him.
The voice answered like he had feared it would, but the body in the mirror didn't move.
This is my body, I will not give it up.
Victor's heart beat faster. A faulty body. That's what this was, it had to be. A damaged mind when it was caught. A rebel human they had warned him about but he had thought he was strong enough of a soul.
Was he really this weak?
Give me back my body.
“N—no.”
It's not yours, you have no right! This is me!
The hands of the body shook, with panic or rage, Victor couldn't tell. It terrified him.
“Not yours,” he managed to say, his throat tight with anxiety. Not anymore . “This is Victor, this is me now.”
The face in the mirror grimaced and the brown eyes burned brighter than the light of a soul.
“No, this is Yuuri.”
Victor was no winner at all.