Blood tastes bitter. In any form. From any life.

The blood of a fairy is no different. Yuuri knows this. As he's slipping his hands into Viktor's torn apart flesh, chanting every incantation he can remember from his mother's most beloved tome, the blood splashes up as a terrible reminder. He can taste the golden liquid, heavy and greasy on his tongue. His body wants to reject it. To wash it away with the bile tearing its way up his throat.

Viktor is fading. His natural glow ebbs and what's left of his gorgeous, translucent wings are beginning to wither and rot into the forest floor. His body still twitches. Breaths leave him in garbled, blood-soaked gasps, but Yuuri can feel Viktor's immortal soul abandoning him, heart beats mere whispers in the air. As the last wisps of white light shimmer away into the trees above, Yuuri can't help but feel hopeless. Even the moon has abandoned them. Within the callous darkness of the forest, only Yuuri's second sight allows him to see to his task with brutal clarity.

He can see Viktor dying. He can see how his own spells are failing him. Yuuri wants to close himself off from the sight. He wants to run far away from this scene, hide from the unpleasantness until it's all over. Just like he's used to.

But Yuuri would rather be damned than abandon Viktor.

Spells pass his lips in rapid-fire rasps. Tears fall silently, diluting faint spots in the bloody streaks on Viktor's skin. Vicchan howls, attempting to lend his master the radiance of his energy.

Yuuri tries, but even his mind is betraying him.

Why? Why did you come here? You know better than this, Viktor. Why did you come?

Viktor's heart abruptly stops. Yuuri feels his own throb in deadening pulses.

Why can't I save you?!

A group of enchanting, winged dancers visit in the night.

They dance out by the pond on prancing feet as they spill sparkles into the mist. Their faces are full of joy, merciless in their glee while they twirl and float and skate along the water. Their laughs are like starlit chimes.

Yuuri watches them when he is just a boy.

His parents warn him. Not to stare. Not to see. His gift is only to be used wisely, cautiously. A child like him, curious and naturally gifted, is considered a delicacy in many circles. He is easy prey. Yuuri needs to be careful.

But he can see them every night. A glittering glow of golden light shines through his bedroom window. It calls to him until he finally peeks. Every time. His seven year old eyes never fail to find those merry creatures.

He learns in his lessons that they are fairies, and that they aren't to be trifled with. They are known to mystify their prey once within sight. With one glance they could suck a person into their world, never to be seen again.

Yuuri wonders what happens once a person is 'mystified away,' if it's like in the troll books where one is considered food. The thought terrifies him, but Yuuri fails to heed the warnings. He watches mere minutes after his parents have tucked him in to sleep, starfished to the window, breaths puffing clouds against the glass.

One night there is only one fairy, gliding on the water like it was born to live within its ripples. It dances to some silent, solemn tune with such sweet sadness that it folds its way around Yuuri's heart.

Once the fairy spins out its finale, Yuuri finds himself clapping, overly enamored with the brilliant show. The fairy halts almost immediately, swiveling to seek out its audience. Their eyes meet, and Yuuri runs cold. He can't believe he's been heard. From such a distance, through a closed window. But he has.

He trips over himself as he scurries from the spot. Bounding under his covers, he hides, attempting to hush his wild breaths with a sheet shoved between his tiny teeth.

"I won't harm you, you know?"

Yuuri jolts, but remains quiet. The words are softly spoken, yet thickly accented by a foreign tongue. They're close. Too close.

The fairy is in his room.

The covers are lifted from Yuuri's form. Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut. He plays possum even as his body gives itself away through shakes and shivers. There's a faint touch, willowy fingers tickling the strands of his hair. It isn't more than a gentle pet, but it coaxes Yuuri's eyes open.

"There we go. You have very pretty eyes, young one. It's such a shame to hide them."

Yuuri observes as the fairy smiles, bright and open. He's instantly mesmerized by the sight. The fairy is beautiful, with icy eyes that shine with untamed wonder and flowing silver hair that reminds Yuuri of the moon reflected along the water's surface. Wings shimmer behind it, clear with ebony swirls. Yuuri wants to touch them. He reaches out without thinking.

The fairy's wings flutter out of reach for only a moment, startled, but then sway back into his space. Yuuri barely caresses one with the pads of his fingers. The silt-soft wing sparkles with quiet shades of blue at each point of contact.

"What is your name, young one?"

"Y…Yuuri."

"Yuuri," the fairy repeats as it sits upon the edge of Yuuri's bed, curling its fingers around Yuuri's plump cheek. That familiar glow of radiant gold emanates from the touch. "I'm Viktor."

A spark of mischief dances along Yuuri's spine, but he recognizes that this feeling is not his own. Yuuri feels a nefarious desire spilling into him from the fairy before him. He can sense the danger, recognizes the need to run and hide in his parents' bed. But he can't move, too lost in frost-bitten irises.

Yuuri's vision fuzzes up like he's not wearing his glasses. A haze muddles his mind, calling him into a long, sought after sleep.

"V-Viktor?" It's with a yawn and the last of his energy that Yuuri whispers out, "I like your dancing."

The hand jerks away from him. The glow dies out and Yuuri's suddenly, alarmingly awake. The fairy's smile staggers.

"…Thank you."

Yuuri tugs his lower lip between his teeth and worries it pink. "Are you going to steal me away? Are… Are you going to eat me like a troll?"

This startles a laugh out of the fairy, covered by a polite hand. "No… No, not today."

"Tomorrow?"

Viktor gives another warm chuckle. The glimmer at the back of Yuuri's mind eases. He no longer senses any menacing feelings, only fondness. "We'll see." He tucks the covers up over Yuuri before making his way to the window. Yuuri blinks and the fairy has shrunken. No longer tall and elegant like Minako-sensei, but a wispy little creature the size of the beetles his sister enjoys chasing him with.

"We shall see."

Yuuri isn't stolen away or eaten the next day, but Viktor does come to visit.

When Viktor isn't out along the pond with his own kind, he dances on his own much like he had that night, only this time, Yuuri knows that he's dancing with his newfound audience in mind.

Yuuri cherishes the times when Viktor visits. The fairy sits at his bedside and rambles about the fairy kingdom, to which Viktor is crown prince. Yuuri never knows what to say when Viktor asks him to reciprocate, so he just rattles off whatever comes to mind. Sometimes, he even spouts off things that are incredibly embarrassing.

Viktor says, with a hearty laugh as he fluffs Yuuri's already sleep-swept hair, that he enjoys Yuuri's earnest innocence.

Viktor's comings and goings are not limited to the midnight hours. And soon, he's nearly a regular visitor. They become friends. An odd pair, Yuuri thinks, a fairy prince and a fledgling witch, but Yuuri's used to making friends with creatures normal humans aren't able to see. Viktor thinks his friendliness is an endearing trait. His parents, on the other hand, are not so fond.

It tends to lead him into dangerous situations.

Yuuri constantly finds himself in trouble that could usually be avoided. Attacked by a viscious murder of Wyverns. Nearly gobbled up by the Ogre of the West Wood. Almost swept away by a mermaid into the Reflected Realm. But Viktor is always there to protect him. Simply swoops in and charms or confuses or exhausts the danger away. Yuuri doesn't know how Viktor always knows where to find him, doesn't know how Viktor always manages to know when Yuuri is in a moment of distress, but he does. And he never fails to come to Yuuri's rescue.

This is proven true even as Yuuri is simply tangling himself up over his next test. Yuuri is slumped against the wall on his bed, fingers scratching his anxiety into his scalp, when Viktor plucks the grip away.

"You'll do wonderfully, Yuuri. You always do. There's no need for this."

Yuuri rolls his eyes. What an outrageous lie. In all of his twelve years of life, Yuuri has come to know that yes, stressing does not help, but the thoughts behind the stress aren't necessarily unfounded either. "You don't understand, Viktor! Minako-sensei is going to kill me. I can't even remember the incantation for a simple finder spell. We learned that two years ago. Two years! She's going to skin my hide and feed it to her dragon."

"She has a dragon?"

"So not the point." Yuuri bounces up from his spot, unsettling Viktor from where he was propped against him, but Yuuri hardly notices. He's too busy slamming open his armoire doors and shuffling through rows of vials and spell books. "And look at this! Part of the test is a demonstration, but I can't find any of my materials. Those darn brownies came and rearranged everything again!"

"They're only trying to help," Viktor offers.

"Don't try to make excuses for your cousins again. I can't find a single thing in this-" Yuuri's readying himself to toss one of his, admittedly precious, scrying stones when Viktor coaxes it from his grip easily. He settles a hand on Yuuri's back and Yuuri feels sleep tug at the edges of his consciousness. Gravity seems to weigh pointedly upon his limbs, arms falling uselessly to his sides. "That's not fair. You can't just-" he lets out a large, creaky yawn, "put me to sleep every time you want me to shut up."

"I would never!" Viktor gasps, mock hurt crossing his features, though honesty cracks the impression. Yuuri can't help but huff out a laugh. "I'm simply trying to calm you. You can't focus if you're too busy freaking out. You're only forgetting because you're too worried you will forget."

"That… kind of makes sense."

"You sound surprised. Now come on." With that same hand, Viktor prods Yuuri forward towards the bed. They gather together on top of it, Yuuri's study guide at the ready. "Breathe. And think. What color does a return wing turn when it's done brewing?"

"I don't know! That's the problem. I can't-"

"Breathe. And think."

Yuuri pouts, but does as instructed. He breathes in. The shade of Viktor's eyes pops forth. With his always freezing, but tender hands. And the particles that flutter off of him when he lets Yuuri touch his wings. A color, both constant and beautiful, knocks on his mind. "Blue," he exhales.

"Perfect."

Viktor protects him through many events in his childhood. Sees him through so much. Viktor acts as his shield, readily and without request. It isn't until Yuuri is older that he feels the need to meld himself into his own shield. Yuuri trains, because he's tired of needing Viktor's protection. He adores Viktor, but it is time he learned to slay his own dragons.

He learns. Yuuri so loves to learn. He stretches his brain to accommodate the information of all categories of creature, beast and demi-human. His every synapse is lit with the knowledge contained in his mother's tomes. His tongue is bent and twirled and broken by so many languages so he can converse with anyone who enters his family home. For trolls, for dwarves, for pixies and leprechauns, for half-lings of any breed.

Yuuri's family's inn acts as salvation to others. Their inn is open to everyone, all beings needing protection or a simple change of pace. Provided they have no ill intentions, all are welcome. If they do, well... The inn's grounds are covered in wards and charms, all renewed weekly to create a magical barrier for those inside. Enchanting them becomes a part of Yuuri's chores when he ages into the responsibility. He doesn't mind it.

It's another piece of metal welded into his newly forming shield. A shield he'll use to defend not just himself, but those he loves.

"So," Viktor starts as he flits above Yuuri, watching while he chants what Viktor endearingly calls gibberish over a hidden rune stone, "how come these things didn't stop me?"

"What, you mean when you tried to eat me?"

Viktor chuffs. "I wasn't going to eat you, but yes." Viktor lands at his side, goes to idly kick the stone, but stops. Yuuri finds his restraint wise. Last time it sent him off into the astral realm.

Yuuri smirks. "I guess it's because you never actually intended to harm me."

Viktor doesn't reply.

Despite his efforts, it isn't until Yuuri's fifth session that he finally summons his familiar.

This time he's determined. Sitting in his circle of burning oils, Yuuri traces the shape of his family's sigil through the air with a finger. For three days he sits just like that, until the scent of the oils begins to burden his brain and his arm throbs. When the third night comes to pass, he is finally blessed with his own familiar. An adorable, chocolate-colored poodle lunges out of a plume of plum-hued smoke, falling right into Yuuri's arms.

Yuuri is so happy he cries, bawling into the scruff of the little thing as he holds it tightly to his chest. Then he puts the dog down before he drops him because he can't possibly hold his arm up anymore.

Yuuri finally has a familiar. It took him until he was sixteen, but it finally happened.

He can't wait to tell Viktor.

The little familiar takes to the fairy right away, barking loudly as he runs around Viktor's ankles, snow kicked up behind his paws. They're out by the pond, away from seeing eyes.

"Um, what is he saying?" Viktor knows that Yuuri can understand the language of his familiar, even though all he hears is rapid yapping.

"He likes you. A lot. He wants to know how you are flying. He wants you to teach him how to fly."

Viktor's irises are instantly sprinkled with delight. "Is that right? Do you want to learn how to fly?" He snatches the little guy up and floats up into the air. The dog's tail beats wildly against Viktor's abdomen as he squirms in uncontrollable excitement.

"Yuuri! Yuuri! I'm flying!"

"I see that, Vicchan."

"Vicchan?" Viktor questions, wings flickering with an odd glow that's a blink in the winter grey.

Yuuri's cheeks turn a nice cerise color. "Um, that's… his name. I… I, uh, named him after you."

Viktor's face blanks until his mouth morphs into the widest grin Yuuri's ever seen. He flings himself, and Vicchan still cradled against him, down at Yuuri, free arm spread wide. Yuuri knows this isn't going to end well.

"Viktor!"

The two crash into him and they fall to the ground in a heap, soon covered in the fresh fluff of snow. Viktor's laughing against Yuuri's scarf, little puffles of ticklish air, and it causes merriment to bubble up within Yuuri as well. His ribs complain against the assault, but it does little to dissuade his laughter.

Vicchan scurries out from the pile, huffy and pleading. "Aw, I wanna keep flying, Viktor!"

The two lay there for a while. Vicchan is their unintended entertainment as he jumps and lunges himself into the air, attempting to fly on his own. In the quiet, Yuuri finds himself swallowed in the dark of his thoughts. Snow falls slowly. Brown eyes watch its descent, and with each flake, Yuuri becomes further buried.

"I thought you were happy."

"I am." The answer's quick from Yuuri's frozen tongue, bitten into the air. Yuuri smiles. A cover that might as well be plastic wrap for how transparent it is.

"Something wrong with Vicchan?"

"It's just…" Yuuri looks back out at his poodle, its little body flopping itself around in a fruitless effort towards levitation. "Familiars are a reflection of their companion's ability."

Yuuri pauses and Viktor's brow arches in a silent question of "And?"

"Familiars that manifest themselves as common house pets tend to lack magical power. What if I… What if I'm not strong? What if I've even limited Vicchan with my poor potential?" Yuuri sniffs, already ready to rant on about his insecurities. They've been curling and curling inside of him, too tangled to unknot and-

"Don't, Yuuri."

Viktor grasps his chin, gaze pure ice shot through a snowstorm. He looks angry. He feels angry, air charged with the agitation burrowed in Viktor's chest. Yuuri sometimes dislikes his extra sense. Right now is one of those times.

"Stop putting yourself down. You're one of the most powerful witches I know-"

"I'm the only witch you know-"

"-and I can feel it, your power, your potential. I can feel it searching within me right now. It's incredible. You're-" Viktor's fingers trace the length of his jaw with a tenderness Yuuri's come to rely on, "incredible. Vicchan will be, too. If he's a reflection of you, then I have no doubt."

Yuuri loses himself for a moment, mystified by Viktor once more, only this time Yuuri doesn't sense Viktor using his power. It's baffling how Yuuri feels so drawn to the fairy laying at his side. Snow dusts silken tresses, spots warm cheeks until it melts down over a radiant smile. Viktor's body is close, nose inches from his neck, hand at rest against his arm. Glacial eyes lock on his own. Yuuri doesn't know how long he stares, how long he just lets himself feel the other's close proximity. It's nice, peaceful in a way Yuuri doesn't understand.

A light buzzing noise draws his attention away.

"Yuuri! Yuuri! I'm flying again!"

"Yes, Vicchan, I hear-" Yuuri stops, mouth an open fly trap as he stares. Vicchan is flying. All on his own. His little puppy is flying with newly sprouted wings protruding from his back.

"Hey! His wings look just like mine!" Viktor shouts, fluttering his own wings out.

They do. Vicchan's wings are a perfect replica of Viktor's. Beautifully clear with delicate, inky whorls. "Vicchan, are you… are you a shifter?"

"So much for him being a common house pet."

Yuuri beams.

Yuuri keeps Viktor to himself. It's kind of nice having a secret. Something that's just his. Something he keeps stored in his back pocket. Reliable and there.

It's always just… them. The both of them locked in gaps of time where no one else can reach them.

He told Mari when he was younger, but he knows she never believed him. She knows, like most in their community, that fairies aren't known to be friendly. That they keep to themselves except when they lock onto prey. She mocks him sometimes, in that teasing way that only big sisters can accomplish without coming off cruel.

"How's that fairy prince of yours lately?" Mari asks as they're folding the linens. "Has he come to whisk you off into a happily ever after yet?"

Yuuri puffs his cheeks, the taunt beating a little too close to his heart for comfort. But he bites back airily. "You're just jealous because only the dwarves hit on you." Mari's eye twitches. "Maybe they'll make you their queen." He ducks a half-folded towel and scurries off before she can toss anything more at him.

Yuuko's the only one who really seems to notice Viktor's presence in his life.

"So, will I ever get to meet them?"

The sudden question throws Yuuri. They're walking home from their studies at Minako-sensei's. The freshness of spring wisps the edges of Yuuko's hair, dances light in her eyes. Yuuri wonders why he finds her so pretty, so sweet like the blossoming freesias they pass, yet he never feels the urge to kiss her.

It's probably a good thing. Takeshi would clock him.

"Meet who?"

"The person you like, silly."

Yuuri halts his steps and stammers stupidly as Yuuko's eyes sparkle knowingly at him. "T-There's-Wha-I-I don't like anyone!"

"Uh-huh," is her only reply before she twirls herself back around and keeps walking. Her boots kick up dust from the dirt road they're on. It clouds, but Yuuko's clear as ever. "It's in your eyes," she sings over her shoulder, bag swaying between careless palms, "when you're thinking about them."

Yuuri studies his face in the mirror when he gets home. There's nothing strange about its structure, expression scrutinizing, but otherwise neutral. Normal. Yuuri looks completely normal. Plain like he's always been.

There's a knock against his window, accompanied by a biting breeze that should have been swallowed by March's arrival. It casts an instant jolt of euphoria that ripples along his spine. It sparks flutters and jitters and it's then that Yuuri catches what Yuuko was talking about. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it, blatant on his face.

"You gonna open up, Yuuri?"

The call comes from the window, and it startles Yuuri away from his spot. "Yeah, sure, hold on!" He leaves the mirror and tries not to think on what such a look could mean.

It's that night that Yuuri realizes his secret wasn't such a secret after all.

Viktor's chattering nonstop and Yuuri's simply listening, head nestled on hugged knees. He focuses on Viktor and only Viktor and it causes Yuuri's outer senses to dull. Yuuri catches the creak outside his door only a moment before his room is entered. It's not enough time to warn Viktor, for the fairy to shrink and hide as usual. So Yuuri hurriedly tosses out a crude shift spell.

Hiroko walks in, cradling a heap of mixing jars to her bosom, only to find her son with an ice-tinted frog sitting next to him.

"H-Hey, mama." Yuuri clenches sweaty palms against his stomach and sits in what has got to be the most pathetic casual position he's ever been in. He tries not to cringe at the bizarre croak that has Viktor's characteristically deep tenor.

"Why, hello, Yuuri. Make a new friend?" His mother looks amused, and Yuuri feels like he's going to throw up. He's not sure why. He knows his mother would never be seriously angry with him. He's never even seen his mother angry before, doesn't know if she's capable. But Yuuri feels an end drawing near, his precious secret quickly unraveling, the ball far beyond his reach.

"Um… no?" He's never lied to his mother, and he's not about to start. There is nothing new about Viktor. The fact is clear even in his mother's dusty hues. She knows.

The feeling hits Yuuri scant seconds before she draws her free hand up and erases his spell with a swipe of her palm. Viktor's true form becomes visible. Yuuri can't help but laugh as Viktor attempts to hide his face behind fenced fingers.

"Viktor," he chuckles, even as the nausea rises, "she can still see you."

"So this is little Viktor." Hiroko's welcoming tone soothes a restless part of Yuuri, and Viktor drops his hands with a bashful, but brilliant, mother-winning smile, wings aflutter.

"Hey there, Mama Hiroko." Viktor flies up, nearly knocking his head into Yuuri's ceiling, and surprises both Katsukis as he hugs her, careful not to offset her hold. "Sorry for trying to deceive you."

"That's quite alright. Yuuri's the one who should be apologizing. That was an awful disguise."

"I don't know," Viktor says with a thoughtful finger to his chin, expression wistful. "I rather enjoyed being a frog, however brief the opportunity."

Yuuri's head spins, and he addresses his mother with panic-laden confusion. "How long have you known?"

"You really think you could have a fairy visiting you every day and not have your mother know?" Hiroko turns, gaze admonishing. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

It's the eve of Yuuri's eighteenth. The night before Viktor vanishes.

"Have you thought about your future, Yuuri?" Viktor asks one night, toying with the silken hair that spills into Yuuri's space as they sit close. Yuuri feels the urge to idly dance his fingers along the map of Viktor's wings, but the seriousness burrowed in Viktor's features keeps Yuuri to himself. "About what you want to do with it, I mean."

"I'm going to take over for my parents."

"That sounds like a fact. A grand design placed upon you by birth." Viktor smiles a teasing smile, but there's a coldness to it. "But that's not what I asked. I asked about what you want."

Yuuri thinks. Isn't that what he wants? It's the only future he's ever known. Not a prison cell he's shackled to, as Viktor seems to imply, but a gateway already prepped for him. A spot he can easily fill. "It is what I want. In the future, I'm going to take over for my parents. I'm going to help the people who can't help themselves." Yuuri nods it back to himself and turns. "And you? You're going to take over as king of your people, right?"

"A fact," is Viktor's solemn reply before he drifts back into the night.

Yuuri hasn't seen Viktor in months when he suddenly shows up crisscrossed on his bed, parsing one of his spell books with a daring set to his mouth and a passionate gleam in his eyes. "Yuuri, I want to try this," he declares, sitting up and whipping his tail of hair over his shoulder.

Yuuri doesn't know what to say. He's peeved, frustration squaring his shoulders and stoning his face. It's been so long since Viktor's last visit that he'd grown worried. Terrified, even. Yuuri had no way of contacting Viktor. Has never needed to have one. Viktor's always just shown up. Just been there.

He'd never expected it, for Viktor to just up and leave and never return. He should have, he supposes. It was only a matter of time before Viktor tired of him. Went off to a better world with better, more exciting people.

It still stung. More than anything has ever stung before.

"Where have you been?"

"I want to try this," he replies as he spins the book around and points at the entry. Viktor doesn't look at him. Even with his adamant announcement and elusive mask, Yuuri can tell that something is wrong. It's in the way Viktor's finger jitters along the aged scripture, the way his breaths are pulled taut within him. Viktor's unflappable persona has given way to some form of desperation. It dispels the irritation.

Yuuri sighs, heaves himself over to his bed and glances down. His voice catches, crinkling in his throat. "This… This is a soul marking potion."

"I know."

"It binds two people together for eternity. It's-"

"Unbreakable, I know. I want to try it."

Viktor's still not looking at him, and now Yuuri can't manage to draw his disbelieving gaze up either. It isn't unusual for Viktor to request something, but it's always for harmless fun. A potion to turn Viktor's hair pink. A spell that gives them temporary gills so they can breathe underwater. Casting levitation so Yuuri can fly on his own by Viktor's side. But this… Yuuri's voice comes out paper-thin, willowy like the air between branches. "With who?"

"You…"

Yuuri breathes out his relief. Until he sucks a sharp breath back in, startled by the reaction. "This… isn't just something you do on a whim, Viktor. This is real, potent magic. If it works we would-"

"Be tied together forever." Determination colors glowing orbs as Viktor finally looks up. He looks worn, aged in a way he never has. Viktor has always glowed with youthful vitality, frozen in time the way Yuuri never has been. The short time that has passed, the months they've spent apart, have created hairline cracks that split what was always constant. "Doesn't that sound perfect?"

"Perfect?"

"I've been wondering how to keep us tied to each other even from two different realms and this just screamed at me when I came here. It's perfect! It's just what we need to stay connected. Don't you see?" Viktor surges forward and grasps Yuuri's hands, securing them in a lock of conviction. Yellowed pages crinkle beneath him, his body half-dragged over his spell book. "Not even the difference in our lifespans will matter."

Yuuri wonders, with what's left of his capsizing brain, where all of this is coming from. Keeping them tied between realms? The difference in their lifespans? Not even Yuuri, the worrier of worriers, had ever paced the thoughts. But now that he quests upon them, he can't stop. Viktor suddenly feels far from him, like a gulf has opened within the space that separates them. Yuuri remembers the past nights of panicking and agonizing over Viktor's whereabouts. He had even searched the stars for him. Would this relieve that tension? Would this provide some sense of security, knowing that they were still bound together, even when apart?

"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" is all he can ask, and Viktor seems to pull back, his hold easing, though his nails pattern crescents along Yuuri's skin.

"Is that a no?"

Yuuri thinks about their last conversation.

"You're going to take over as king of your people, right?"

He thinks about the mirror.

"The person you like, silly."

Laughs in the snow.

"You're… incredible."

He scrambles for the ingredients with no more thoughts necessary. He boils everything down right in the center of his room, atop notes for his next minerals exam. "I have no idea if this will work. I'm still in training, remember?"

"It's worth a shot, right?" But Viktor's eyes beg the question, Are you sure you want this?

Yuuri answers by grabbing onto Viktor's hand and drinking from the vial. He passes the rest to Viktor, waits for the fairy to laugh, to mock him, to say that it was all a joke and leave. Yuuri trusts Viktor, but the thoughts are always there.

Viktor gulps the last of the liquid down as soon as it's within his reach.

They sit as nothing happens.

"Do you think it worked?"

Yuuri doesn't get to answer. A consonant stutters into a groan as he feels an insistent tug in his chest. He gasps. His fingers scrabble along the fibers of his shirt. His heart burns. It struggles in a fiery fury that rages around the organ, potent flames skittering in his breast. Yuuri can't breathe, can't think in the wake of such a searing pain that brands itself deep into his body. He's going to die. He screwed up again, and he's going to die because of it. It's a bone-deep thought that perseveres through the pain. He looks over at Viktor as he writhes on his floor, and finds him in a similar state. Great, he's killed them both.

But just as the pain heightens unbearably, just as Yuuri's about to scream out an apology towards the person that means too much to him, to confess something that even Yuuri is unsure about, it eases. The blazing hearth smolders into embers. Yuuri screeches in a breath, hands unclenching from the folds of his collar. There's only a faint sting now, echoes of an undoubtable occurrence.

A scar that fades quietly, but can never be vanquished.

There's shuffling at his side, and Yuuri realizes wearily that Viktor has recovered first. He looks through foggy eyes to find his glasses dangling in front of his face. They'd apparently gotten knocked off as he'd spasmed around. "Thanks," his voice is weak, trembly. He takes the offered spectacles, curling as he takes stock of himself. Nothing is amiss, but he feels different, lighter, yet grounded.

"Do you think it worked?" Viktor asks again, a firm fist over his own heart.

Yuuri raises a brow, but sits up. "I've heard that… soulmates have synced heartbeats. That when…" He dances his tongue out across his lips, breathes anticipation into the backs of his teeth. "That when they touch, they can feel each other's souls."

Eagerness lightens the residual pain from Viktor's expression. He reaches curious fingers toward Yuuri just as Yuuri does the same. Their hands meet in the middle.

They feel. Heartbeats. Frantic, then gentle.

"They're the same," Viktor whispers, awe free from his throat.

Yuuri's thoughts are too dazzled to form words.

There's this bright flicker behind his eyes, transporting his mind somewhere else. He's standing beneath a brilliant moon. Glittering stars burn their reflections into a still lake. Yuuri's feet feel cold, distantly wet, and he looks down to find water. He's standing on the lake's frozen expanse, his own reflection clear, untouched. A crisp breeze tingles his skin, but it's tender in its caress. Familiar. Steady.

There's the call of his name from somewhere and Yuuri looks up. The moon brightens. It's almost as if it's shining only on him. For him.

Then there are eyes, staring at him. He's back in his room. With Viktor.

"Moonlight."

"Sunlight."

They both speak as goofy grins twitch to life on their faces. They crack up as they fall into each other, forehead to forehead. Palm to palm.

Their hearts beat together. Moonlight and sunlight shine.

Neither of them talk about what this means.

Viktor whisks him away one night with little explanation.

"I met your family, time to meet mine."

Yuuri doesn't get a chance to fret. Viktor picks him up and flurries them away into the night. Fall has withered the trees, the moon streaking ghosts in the fog. A group of fairies wait, all twinkling lights around his family's pond. Yuuri recognizes them, even swaddled in darkness.

"Everyone," Viktor announces, hand a warm weight on Yuuri's back, "this is Yuuri."

He's met with more enthusiasm than he expected. He's accepted easily into the group, welcomed as one of their own. All this time Yuuri thought that Viktor was an anomaly, but he realizes that maybe fairies aren't as malicious as their reputation insists. They seem just like normal people.

Sara's in his space, wondering over his 'baby face' with wandering fingers. She asks to hug him and does so without waiting for a response. "Ugh, he's adorable! I've never met a human so adorable! Can I have him?"

Mila and Chris look over him fondly. "We finally get to meet the human capable of mystifying the unmistifiable," Chris states, rescuing him from Sara who'd been mushing their cheeks together. "Color me intrigued." Chris's hand is on Yuuri's back, whapping a friendly pat. Then it ventures downwards. Yuuri stiffens and Viktor swats the hand away before it gets far.

"Too intrigued, I see."

Michele and Yuri both grumble to themselves, but a sharp look from Viktor has them reluctantly greeting Yuuri with less than enthusiastic smiles.

"So do you really fly on broomsticks and stuff?" Sara asks with a chuckle. "I can't imagine the wood burn."

Of course, because he's a witch, it doesn't take long for everyone to get punny about it.

Chris elbows Viktor in the side, brow in a flirtatious twist as he glances not so subtly at Yuuri. "Bet he knows how to drive a stick."

Yuuri immediately goes red.

"Hah! I got one," Michele says as he jabs a thumb at Yuri. "Resting witch face." To which Yuri smacks him upside the head. "Ow! No need to get witchy about it."

Viktor pops his face between the two. "Mess with the witch, you get the bitch."

"Do I need to smack you, too?"

"Everything I brew," Mila starts as she blows a kiss towards Sara, "I brew for you."

"Witch, please." Michele quips as he intercepts with a hand.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," Yuri grumbles. "You guys have been hanging around the humans too much."

When the curiosity dies down, Yuuri lets his outsider status wash his presence into the background. He watches, as he always has. These are Viktor's friends, but they have a closeness that marks them undoubtedly family.

"The only family that matters," Viktor says, delight in his voice as they begin to dance.

Up close, Yuuri can't even hope to blink. So many captivating lights swirl before him, entrancing like fireworks as each fairy blends its own color into the night air. There's so much happiness here. They're all free with carelessness, laughs born bright.

Yuuri feels like he's breaking something. Some sort of reprieve, some break from reality that is theirs' and theirs' alone.

Yuuri gets up from his place on the ground, patting dying leaves from the seat of his pants. "I think I should head back."

"Don't be silly." Mila nabs his hand and spins him into her. The action flights him from his feet. He yelps and Mila giggles. "So, little witch, Viktor says you have some wings of your own."

Yuuri casts a levitation and floats along with them. He's slow and unsteady, but soon he's prancing through the air right along with them. A fairy with invisible wings.

"Viktor led us here, said he was drawn or something," Mila speaks conspiratorially into the shell of his ear. "To tell you the truth, I think he was drawn here because of you."

Yuuri looks over, catching Viktor's silhouette in the light that draws its first morning breaths. Viktor laughs, and Yuuri suddenly wants to know what that tastes like.

Maybe he'll find out next time.

Yuuri waves, because he has a house to cleanse and if he doesn't leave now he'll blow it off to spend more time with this creature that steals his thoughts so easily nowadays. Viktor pulls a face, but Yuuri whips around and throws his begging to the wind.

A spirit is attached to a trinket, an old, forlorn box. Yuuri exorcises it out, thinking little beyond his next meeting with Viktor. The words come easy now, spilling from him like breaths and the spirit vanishes with an undignified crackle. Yuuri deems the box safe, now a humble storage space, but the family doesn't trust it. Yuuri takes it home, tosses it on a table where Mari takes a shine to it.

None of them notice the whispers it emits.

Yuuri and Hiroko are the only practicing witches in their little family. Toshiya runs the business side of things, the inn, but he does not touch the magic that his wife is so skilled with. He is a human in the most wholesome sense. Mari dabbles, but barely. She doesn't have the passion for it, simply learns the basics to help run the inn.

Yuuri has never minded taking on most of the magical duties, but it's in his later years that he wonders if things would have ended differently had Mari trained harder, been a little more magically inclined. If she had learned to notice the signs of a demon present in her room.

This thought, of course, is selfish. Yuuri knows that everything that happens is his fault.

He's on his way home from another meeting with Viktor and his friends. He can feel the smile in his cheeks, wide and wild. He's been smiling so much it hurts.

He's about to call out an "I'm home!" when he feels the vibrations of dark energy in the air. The door slams behind him. Vicchan is flung from his side, yelping into unconsciousness against the wall as his physical form shimmers from sight. Yuuri can only stare, wide-eyed and horrified.

"Welcome home, Yuuri." It is his sister's voice, but it has a forced quality, a sinister edge that razors Yuuri's nerves. Her skin is a putrid yellow, blackening veins matted against its surface. Scratch marks rage against her face, her neck and arms, as if something, or someone, has been trying to escape from within. Her eyes are poisonous pools, and Yuuri avoids her devouring gaze. He can't meet it. There is no doubt as to what is in front of Yuuri now. And it is not his sister.

Guilt opens its jaws and swallows him whole. How could he not see this, feel this from miles away? His own sister was being influenced by a demon, and he was none the wiser.

Yuuri should do something, chant something. He knows how to handle demons. In theory. From his lessons. He's never had to face one in such a terrifying, full form before. Certainly not inside someone he loves.

Yuuri's muscles pull tight, reflexes caught between his desire to fight or flee. He does neither, paralyzed in a predator's gaze.

A whip of water splashes from his periphery. The demon cries out, screams murder into the air as it protects its now blistering face from the assault.

His mother slides in front of him. Her stance is strong, sure, bottle of holy water in one palm and her ancient beads in the other. She's chanting nonstop, crashing words together and they etch into Mari's skin. They mark the demon, searing characters across its limbs.

"The book, Yuuri! Get the book!"

Yuuri's mom stops just long enough to yell at him, to focus him onto the pressing task and gesture towards the discarded book on the floor. It's torn, singed from a heated fight. But it's not the book that catches Yuuri's attention. It's his father's body, bloody and twisted on the floor. His fingers, bent into sick curly cues, are clawed into its pages.

Yuuri cries out at the sight, sinks into the floorboards and covers his eyes. He can't see it. It's not real. None of it is real.

"Of course it's real." Mari's voice is slick in his ears, slimy as the trail of a slug. She's still wailing against his mother's attacks, but Yuuri hears her from some telepathic onslaught he's unprepared for. "Your father's dead, your sister's already gone, and I'll take your mother with me." Yuuri feels the tears, hot between his fingers. "Aw, pathetic little witch. Where's your power now? Where was your power when you brought me into this house?" Yuuri jolts as a memory forces itself into his brain.

Yuuri carelessly tossing the box onto the kotatsu in the den.

Mari taking it with a shrug of her mouth.

Mari becoming possessed by the demon spilling its form into her gut insidiously.

None of them notice its increasing power incubating inside one of their own. Even the charms did not see it in the host body of Mari.

"You… But I exorcised you out…"

The demon cackles, prickling needles against his heart. "You exorcised the spirit sealing me in! I should thank you. You set me free. This is all your doing."

"No…"

"Don't listen, Yuuri!" His mother's voice cuts in. Yuuri feels his mother's aura, a swift blanket that coddles and protects. "This is not your fault. None of this is your fault."

Hiroko lashes another spray of holy water. The demon screams again. Its hands fly out and the candles around the room all flare to life. The fire roars, wilder than any candle should be able to create. They catch the beams of the ceiling, the walls and decorations. The fire spreads faster than Yuuri can see.

"Watch it, Witch!" the demon cries towards Hiroko. "Wouldn't want to kill your daughter now, would you?" There's a snap, deafening even against the roar of the flames. Hiroko flinches, bottle slipping from her grip. The glass shatters against the floor, holy water drooling into the wood. "Imagine if this were her pretty little neck." She holds up a crooked hand, the bone of Mari's wrist jagged through ripped flesh.

"Yuuri." His mother's voice, somehow still calm, beckons him.

Yuuri yanks his gaze away from his battered sister. "Mama?" he sounds so small, the quiet child he's always been.

"You can do this, Yuuri. I believe in you."

"Do what?" She pulls him up from the floor, cups her hands around his cheeks and stares at him like she's memorizing his face. The look comforts and sours his stomach all at once. Somehow, he feels it. This is the last time he will receive that look.

"Mari is gone, but I can still save her soul." She kisses his forehead, giving his cheek a last pat. Yuuri's too busy shaking his head to appreciate the gestures, to cherish what he knows are his mother's last moments. "And you can save mine."

"No! Mom! Please-"

He's shoved away as the demon lunges at them. His mother claps her hands together, blue beads tangled around her fingers, and calls out the words that freeze Mari's body in place. A flash of white sends Mari's body flying to the floor. It thunks down as empty as a shell.

Yuuri rushes over to his sister, but there isn't much he can do. He can feel flickers of her present only in her spirit energy. Her soul has been saved, but her body lies beyond repair.

There's a low growl. Yuuri looks up to face his mother, her body now harboring the demon stolen from Mari. "Sacrificing herself to save her brat, huh? No matter. Now there's no one to stop me from taking what's mine."

"Wrong." Yuuri finds the strength as he picks up his mother's discarded beads. He folds his hands and sinks his feet down firmly into the wood. Fire burns around him, but not nearly as strongly as it does within his roaring gaze. "I will rip you out of her even if it takes both our lives."

It almost does.

Yuuri is lost. He sits in the entrance as the fire consumes all that is his family. Every heirloom. Every photo. Every piece of his childhood. He watches with grief-crusted eyes as the flames eat what's left of his father's body and lick at that of his mother's. He holds Mari, needs to protect her soul so he can send it. He's already released his mother and father. He just can't seem to move anymore, even as Vicchan nudges against his side. Yuuri wants to tell Vicchan that everything's okay, wants to chant out his sister's release. The words no longer come.

It isn't until Viktor shows up that he's reminded that he needs to breathe.

Yuuri's eyes reflect only orange until blue capture them whole. The room chills as the flames crackle and pop in a battle against ice. Then there is no more fire, only frozen flames and icicles, snow that cries from the ceiling. The blood still stains, arcs of red upon white.

Viktor throws himself around Yuuri. "Thank you. Thank you so much," Viktor whispers into his shoulder, but Yuuri knows that Viktor is not talking to him.

Yuuri heals in the hospital for nine days. Until the smoke is dispelled from his lungs, the second degree burns start to mend, and the demonic acid wounds begin to scar, Yuuri lays in a bed parallel to his sister's. Mari is wired up, machines breathing life into nothing but a husk. Yuuri talks to her every now and then, apologizes, begs for her forgiveness as the silence becomes unbearable.

He never expects a reply back.

Viktor visits him every day, wings wrapped around his body and shielded by a long coat whenever the doctors are around. He talks to Yuuri when Yuuri feels like it, simply gives him his presence when he doesn't.

When he can finally muster up the will, Yuuri releases Mari's soul. Minako is there, a concrete pillar of strength at his side. The machines shriek. Alarms blare. It's a goodbye neither of them are prepared for.

Minako is the one who drives him back to the house and helps him salvage any of his belongings.

"I can't believe you wanted to be stuck in that hospital, Yuuri. I could have healed you better than any of those quacks. Just look at those scars on your arm. I could have-"

"I'm fine. Really." Yuuri gently nudges Minako's invasive hands away and turns back to his charred and flooded home.

"Well, I have a room set up for you. Just let me know when you're ready."

Yuuri doesn't stay with Minako. He doesn't want to stay near his house. Or anywhere in town. He retreats to an old cottage in the forest, left behind by one of his ancestors. It's built around the trunk of an old oak, a guardian that protects it from harm. In the thick of the forest, with the company of only his familiar, Yuuri hides.

Viktor knocks. Pounds. Slams his body against the door of his new home. Yuuri doesn't want to see him.

Viktor tries to phase through the wood, but meets Yuuri's magical barrier instead. "Yuuri, you're more than this," he says, voice ragged. The disappointment present makes Yuuri shrink back more.

"Am I?" he asks as he stares at his hands. Selfish, useless hands. "I killed my family. I don't deserve anyone's company. I don't deserve you!" With his yell, the barrier fades and Viktor's body falls through the door. His wings catch his fall, and he flutters gracefully to Yuuri's crumpled form. "I don't deserve my magic."

Yuuri finally crumbles completely and sobs into Viktor's chest. He gives in, lets every dark thought drain from his body until he's hollow, a doll in Viktor's arms.

"Listen, Yuuri. I'm not going to tell you that you're wrong, or that it wasn't your fault, or that everything is going to be okay. You won't hear anything you don't believe. I will say that I am here for you and that I'm going to be here for you even if I'm stuck outside flinging myself against your tree to get in. Understand?"

"You should leave, Viktor," Yuuri mutters as his arms lock Viktor in tighter, glasses smashed between his nose and Viktor's shoulder.

Viktor grins. "Don't want to." He plucks Yuuri's glasses away to kiss the brow beneath the mussed fall of his bangs, and holds Yuuri until sleep drowses them both.

With Viktor's help, Yuuri takes steps towards healing. It takes months before he can say his family's names again. Months more before he allows himself to see Minako and Yuuko. He still doesn't trust himself to use his magic. He summons just enough to do minor house chores and keep Vicchan in his physical form. He can't find it in him to use it for much else. Why would he? There's no one left to help. To protect. To save. There is no reason for his magic, so he lets most of it wither within his veins.

He enjoys his little cottage, his tree and its forest. He likes to watch the sun shimmer its way up the trees while Vicchan mimics the creatures around him - shifting into butterfly form to drift in their circles, catching flies as a frog while Yuuri laughs through his disgust. Yuuri breathes in the life, moss-laden grass spongey beneath tender toes. He connects to the ether beneath the forest by accident many times, converses with the trees, helps little animals find their homes from miles away. Small things that keep him going.

The forest is a peaceful place, but certain nights carry with them many malicious creatures and evil spooks. Through his connection with the trees, Yuuri is alerted to a sudden surge of activity and warns Viktor away.

"There's something going on. I think you should keep your distance for a week, maybe two."

"But-" Viktor finishes chewing one of Yuuri's bagels, nearly choking on his incredulity. "But it's… This week is-"

"I know." It's three days until the anniversary of his family's death. "It's not safe."

"Even here? I can stay inside if it's that big of a deal. I can even stay for the whole two weeks until it's over-"

"No, you can't. Your father would kill you for being gone so long. Besides, you have a gathering with another kingdom tomorrow, right? You can't miss that."

"But, Yuuri." Viktor sounds how Yuuri feels. The fairy flits himself up and lowers himself to the floor on Yuuri's side of the table, hands finding home within his own. Yuuri nearly strangles the life out of them with his desperate grip. "I should be here for you."

"You are here for me." With an easy tug, Yuuri rests Viktor's hand on his chest, heart beating their connection into his palm. "Right here."

Viktor's smile flickers before he whines and throws his head into Yuuri's lap, the rest of his body puddled on the ground. "But I want to be physically here for you." And in his moment of brilliance, Viktor shoves his head up under Yuuri's shirt, breathing a contented sigh into Yuuri's bellybutton.

"Viktor!" Yuuri laugh-screeches. He attempts to yank his shirt back up, but Viktor's insistent, clamping it down around his head. "Get out of there, you weirdo."

"Nope. It's cozy in here. I think I'll stay." The cheeky brat cuddles his ear against Yuuri's stomach and exhales a nasally snore to make his point.

Yuuri huffs, casts an adoring gaze down and knocks on the growth within his shirt. "Eviction notice." Yuuri calls forth the energy in the air and uses it to zap Viktor right on the ass. Viktor yips, falls back and into the table with a groan as he rubs the abused area.

"Meanie Yuuri," Viktor mutters as he sits up, "taking my home from me."

"Anyway, the trees have been telling me-"

"You've been talking to trees?!"

"I don't know how you can be surprised by any of this anymore."

Viktor's back on him without a second's pass. "I wanna try it!" He hovers over to the large oak in the middle of the room and bear hugs it. "You are such a gorgeous, proud tree. I just love what you're doing with your leaves."

"Um, Viktor-"

"It can't be easy living here, with him," Viktor teases, cupped hand around his mouth and whispering into the bark like Yuuri can't hear him. Yuuri's brow twitches in irritation. "You'll have to tell me all of the embarrassing details-"

"Viktor."

"Thank you so, so much for taking care of my precious Yuuri. I can at least know that you and Vicchan are keeping him safe." Unsurprisingly, Viktor receives no reply. He blinks innocently over at Yuuri. "You think it heard me?"

There's a loud crack, and the floor rumbles below. One of the oak's roots rises from the floorboards, dirt and splintered wood flying in all directions, and gives Viktor a squeeze around his shoulders.

"Yeah." Yuuri smiles, weary, but loving. "It heard you."

He'll have to fix the floor later.

Yuuri's curled up and his heart hurts. He didn't know it could hurt this much, not as much as the day his family was stolen from him. He tries to focus on their lives instead of their deaths. He thinks about the feel of their souls, the warm gold of his mother's, the earthy brown of his father's, the spicy sage of his sister's, and how he'd held onto them for as long as he could before sending them away.

He lays there for hours, cuddling Vicchan to himself, wishing Viktor was there to hold them both.

Yuuri wakes to a cracking feeling in his chest. It's not the pain he's been experiencing. It's too real, explosive, but feels outside of him somehow. It takes him far too long to realize that it's Viktor. The pain is resonating through their connection, alerting him to Viktor's distress.

Yuuri rushes from his cottage, shoes and proper clothes forgotten within. He cares little beyond the trail he senses, even as the air howls and threats emerge with the moon. An incense of blood is in the air and Yuuri follows the scent. It spirals in a misty red line, guiding Yuuri to its owner.

He runs, Vicchan on his heels. The trees chatter at his side, aiding him as they smack and bash and thwart any followers meaning him harm. Yuuri's feet bleed against the stray branches and rocky terrain. Running suffocates his lungs. But he reaches Viktor within minutes.

A hellhound is on him, biting into Viktor's shoulder and tearing its claws into his wings. Viktor struggles, body shimmering as he tries to shrink himself, but his magic has been worn down. There are already two badly injured hell pups around them.

The hellhound swipes at Viktor's ribs. Golden blood spurts. Viktor goes down. The burly beast's teeth gnash, readying to sink into Viktor's neck.

Yuuri flings his arm out. A curse is torn from him in a thunderous war cry and the hounds all vanish in a mosaic of colors.

Yuuri doesn't dwell on their fates. He rushes over to Viktor and attempts to mend the damage.

Why can't I save you?!

Yuuri struggles, tying together every loose thread of Viktor's insides. He doesn't know if he can do this. Not with so much on the line. This is Viktor's life in his hands. Yuuri can feel it slipping away, Viktor's spirit rejoining the ether as his radiance dulls.

Yuuri wonders what he'll do once Viktor's gone. How he'll survive without that laugh.

He shakes the thoughts away, but Viktor's heart has already stopped. Yuuri can't hear its wondrous song, can't remember when he last felt his own beat to the other's rhythm.

Yuuri's hands slow to a stop. He trembles, clenches his worthless hands and slams them down against his thighs, against Viktor's cold body. "I'm sorry," he yells as he pounds. "I'm sorry," he says again. Again and again. He keeps saying it, keeps hitting him until his hands are no longer stained gold, but caked in bitter orange.

"I couldn't save you," Yuuri whispers with a kiss upon still lips. He lays his forehead on Viktor's chest, lets the night envelop them. It wouldn't be so bad to die here, he thinks, and wonders upon letting his own spirit rejoin his family's on swift wings behind Viktor. He's done all he can. There's nothing left.

"You can do this, Yuuri. I believe in you."

His mother's voice surfaces inside him and with a desperate cry, Yuuri pulls himself up and tries again. He can't give up. He can't die, not when he still has so much to live for. The creatures of the forest. Yuuko. Minako. Vicchan. Viktor.

He wants a life with Viktor. He wants to be a witch, to carry on the work of his family.

Yuuri inhales, "Breathe," and exhales a gust that wipes away his worries. "And think."

With fingers clawing into his chest, Yuuri draws a spell forth. He's never used it before, doesn't know anyone who has, but it comes from the depths of his soul. He pulls his hand away from his chest slowly, meeting resistance as he plucks out some of his own life energy. His body instantly becomes colder. His senses dull and his second sight shuts off completely. His eyes blink lazily. He lets the trail of white energy slip from his fingers. He's awake long enough to watch it slither into Viktor's breast, to watch every wound and gash seal up, to hear a sharp intake of breath, before he falls to the fairy's side.

He's done it. The shield, battered and rusty, was finally able to save someone.

It's his last thought as darkness welcomes him.

"You gave me half of your life energy?" is the exclamation he wakes to. Yuuri jerks back from Viktor's face hovering in his own. He blinks the weariness from his eyes, swipes a wrist over them and tugs his glasses closer to assure himself that what he's seeing is real, and then throws himself on Viktor, dragging them both down to the floor.

Viktor's fine. He's alive. And so is Yuuri. He managed to keep them both alive. It's a reunion that fills Yuuri with so much elation that it stings his throat. He strangles Viktor in a hug and kisses him. He keeps kissing him even as he asks Viktor what happened.

Viktor recalls how he and Vicchan managed to get Yuuri back to the cottage with little difficulty. Viktor stayed by his side for two straight days until he awoke, sending word to his father through a fairy orb. It was the only reason his fairy guard did not come searching for him.

After Yuuri's caught up, Viktor voices his initial question again, this time looking downright irate with him. He yanks Yuuri's grip from him and looks into his face, glacial eyes sharp with more than just anger. Fear, Yuuri finds, and a guilt he recognizes.

"How did you find out?"

"Vicchan told me."

"Vicchan?" As if responding to his name, he appears, resizing himself from the little spider that was laying on his pillow. His puppy runs to him, nuzzles him with delighted paws and eager squirms. "You can… talk to Vicchan?"

Viktor sighs, elaborating as he settles back on his ankles. "Vicchan thinks it's a side effect of your spell. You essentially put a part of yourself inside me. It gave me some of your abilities." Despite his stern countenance, there's a dash of excitement creasing his eyes. "Now. What were you thinking?"

What was he thinking? He gave up so much of himself so willingly. It's very likely that he's just shaved precious years off of his lifespan. No, it's a given. He's living a shortened life. The rest of himself will live inside of Viktor. Yuuri somehow doesn't care.

"I couldn't lose you, Viktor." Yuuri says into Vicchan's neck, eyes welling. "I couldn't lose you."

Despite the magnitude of Yuuri's sacrifice, and the regenerative abilities of Viktor's own fae blood, Viktor is not without his reminders of the night. His body is riddled with enduring marks, and his wings will take a while to rehabilitate into flight again. Yuuri wonders if the physical reminders bother Viktor, as the fairy spends his nights memorizing the new patterns on his wings, fingers trailing over corded scar tissue that even the healing powers of a witch cannot mend. Viktor doesn't want him to. He's expressed it many times that the time and trouble Yuuri would have to go through would not be worth it.

Besides, he rather likes it, Viktor says one evening. It reminds him of just how much Yuuri went through to save him.

The fairy king is grateful to Yuuri for saving his son. He invites the young witch to his kingdom, to celebrate, to honor. The invitation is a bit much, Yuuri thinks, as he's unprepared for a dainty knock to reveal a swarm of cheering fairies lighting up his tree.

Although he's beyond appreciative, he still feels out of sorts and knows that Viktor is rather self-conscious around other fairies with his currently flightless wings. At least, that's what he's been told by Vicchan. The two are obnoxiously close now, and Vicchan finds out some things that Viktor doesn't tell Yuuri himself. With this in mind, Yuuri respectfully declines, but asks a favor.

He asks if Viktor can spend the summer with him.

The king accepts. It's the longest time Yuuri and Viktor have ever spent together, days rolling into each other, both wrapped in the luxury of leisure. No rushed goodbyes. No princely responsibilities to keep Viktor away for long periods of time. It's just them. For an entire season.

They become their own little family unit. Swimming out in the lake. Gathering food and cooking it together. Hunting down Vicchan when he decides to transform and hide amongst his new brethren. Holding hands as the sunset bleeds into the horizon, and then falling asleep with them still locked together. Viktor even spends much of the time learning more about Yuuri's craft, combing over wrinkled pages that crackle with every turn, and nearly setting his luscious hair on fire as he brews a trial potion.

Yuuri hides his potion fixings for a while after that.

Above all, the time draws them closer. Almost unbearably so. They share each other's space. Each other's breath.

The heat sucks them together.

They're in a tangle on the bed, covered in nothing but sheets. Windows are open to the dry breeze, Vicchan sunbathing on a ledge in gecko form. The heat is atrocious, the kind that dries the saliva on Yuuri's tongue and pools sweat in his bellybutton. They can barely move and when they do their skin makes a disgusting sound as they peel apart. Viktor's icy powers are limited since he consumed some of Yuuri's energy, but it's enough to keep them from frying as they sway together like waves in the ocean. They collide, only to move as one.

"Why did you come that night?" Yuuri asks as he snuggles his face into the softness of Viktor's wing, eyes bleary from the sun shining through the window, fingernails lightly scraping against Viktor's hipbone. "I told you it wasn't safe."

"I had to see you." Viktor inhales Yuuri, nose outlining his jaw and up along the spiral of his ear. "I wanted to be here for you. I always want to be here for you." It's the last thing he says before he slinks down and lavishes devotion between Yuuri's thighs.

It's during the last dregs of summer that Yuuri begins to feel antsy. He yanks on his sleeves, scratches against the crawling sensation that's vivid beneath his skin. It's like he can't bear to be inside himself, wants to tear everything away into something new. Something permanent.

Viktor is the same way. He's stopped trying to fly; he can hover, but no longer soars. He refuses to talk about his kingdom, doesn't allow Yuuri to broach the subject of their impending separation. He spends most of the time that he's not with Yuuri hunched over spell books.

"Have you ever thought about us becoming-"

"I have." Yuuri leans against his tree, fumbles with its rough bark as he keeps his thoughts of the future from making him needy. A union between species… It's not highly regarded. Or respected. Or, well, allowed.

Viktor waits.

Yuuri observes his oak. The tree is sturdy, full of life, but even its leaves decay sometimes, without warning. A piece of bark crumbles in his hand. "But we can't."

"I thought so," is Viktor's hushed response.

Yuuri tries not to read into it.

The last day Yuuri wakes not to the tender breaths of his lover, but to a groan of pain and a thump. Viktor is bent over one of his books, holding himself as his hands rip at his sides. There's a broken vial next to him and Yuuri's pot is still boiling. Before Yuuri can figure out how to help Viktor, he has to know what the fairy's done to himself. He glimpses the page, and disbelief stutters against his ribs, shatters every thought.

Viktor wheezes as he gains color. The light, golden glimmer that surrounds him decays. The pointy tips to his ears that Yuuri never took the time to truly appreciate curve and round. His wings, his exquisite wings sear into his back, melting down until there is nothing left but the scars.

Yuuri stares as Viktor transforms into a human.

"Well?" Viktor prompts when everything is said and done. When he's done giving up everything he is, no going back.

It takes everything in Yuuri to not smack the word back into his mouth.

Yuuri spends hours attempting to find a way to reverse it. His mind is scattered between pages. He calls Minako, consults the trees, the stars. He mixes up everything he can think of and forces it down Viktor's throat. Other than making Viktor burp up periwinkle puffs, his efforts achieve little. He can't figure out how to return Viktor's fae blood to him.

"I thought you'd be happy."

"Why would I be happy?!" Yuuri screams. Fury, thick, unbridled fury seethes from his every pore. Yuuri stares at the air around Viktor where wings were once proud.

"I knew it. You only loved me for my wings."

"Don't! Don't you dare make a joke out of this, Viktor. How could you? How could you do this to yourself? And trying such a dangerous potion? As a novice such as yourself. You could have died! You could have-!" Yuuri breathes. He breathes and breathes but there's not enough air. He chokes on the lack, hand locked on his throat.

Viktor rushes him a bag, but Yuuri shoves him away. Viktor falls, catches himself on a table with his hand, but manages to slice it on a nail. The blood catches Yuuri's eyes, reminds him of all he's done. Of how this is entirely his fault. He killed his family. He killed Viktor. He's even managed to kill the fairy inside his beloved.

"I'm sorry, Yuuri. I'm sorry. I only wanted to be with you. This was the only way."

"Why didn't you ask me? We could have done something-anything else!"

"Like what?"

Yuuri's mind runs blank. He doesn't have an answer. He'd never thought they could have a future, not one together. He never allowed himself to hope, let alone try to bring that future to fruition. His anger fizzles.

"Exactly." Viktor eases himself into Yuuri's space, soothes the stressed marks on Yuuri's neck with the caress of his uninjured hand. A brushstroke against his pulse. "I don't regret this, Yuuri. I didn't want to live without you and even if we'd managed to stay together, I… I would have lived so much longer than you. And now that you've given half your life to me, that would just make our time together even shorter." Viktor draws a still stunned stiff Yuuri against him. He brings up Yuuri's hand, kisses the winding veins of his palm. "I did this because I love you, Yuuri."

Yuuri shakes, overwhelmed with the swarm of emotions that flurry inside him. Viktor prompts him to say something, to respond to his feelings, but- "I can't." Shame twists and contorts his stomach as he says it, but the truth clatters from his teeth. He. Just. Can't.

Viktor's arms fall away from him. There's a desolate wasteland in his eyes. His hand climbs to his own chest, no doubt feeling the erratic thumping that's stampeding though Yuuri. His smile warps into something Yuuri's never seen before. Yuuri doesn't want to see it again.

He leaves.

Or he tries. His foot stalls him, body and mind no longer synched. A terrible, brutally honest thing the body is. He wants to leave. You don't, his toes insist as they clench against rough wood.

"I forced you into this, didn't I?" Viktor's voice takes on a muted quality. His hand is still over his exposed chest, cut bleeding against the pulse of their hearts. "We're only connected by a spell. Possessed by a potion I made you concoct."

Viktor's line of thinking is not new to Yuuri. When gripped in the thick vines of self-doubt, Yuuri's thought it, too. That maybe all of this, what they've grown into, the connection they share, only exists because of a forced link. A terrible mistake condemns them to these feelings, fabricated over something that should only be friendship.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- Maybe it will wear off if I-"

But even when crushed beneath those feelings, Yuuri has never allowed himself to succumb to the ache. He is not being controlled by a hidden mark they share. It is a bond that they crafted into something tangible. The love is real.

"I made a choice to make that potion," Yuuri starts," to drink that bottle. I don't regret it one bit. Marking myself to you was a choice. Falling in love with you… not so much."

"You-"

"I love you, Viktor. After the potion. Before the potion. And if the effects ever wear off, I'll still be hopelessly in love with you, soul mark or no." Yuuri steps toward Viktor, clumsily takes hold of his shoulders. Viktor appears as if he's been savagely torn open, expression stolen from his control. He looks like he doesn't know how to feel. "I want you with me, but not at this cost." Yuuri feels along Viktor's back, finding ridges and bumps, an empty spine. "I didn't want you to lose any of yourself for my sake." It's hypocritical, but the gift of his sacrifice had been about saving Viktor's life, not selfishly clinging to what couldn't be. It's different, right?

The quirk to Viktor's lips gives Yuuri his answer. "I'm still me," Viktor replies and he reaches around, searches out Yuuri's hand and holds it to a long, winding scar marring his lower back. Yuuri recognizes it, for it once striped brilliant wings. "See? Nothing's really changed. I'm the same me. Went through the same things. Feel the same emotions. Nothing can change that."

"But… Your family. Your life-"

"You are my family. My life."

"But-"

Too quick to register, Viktor moves and lips are on his, passion biting, gnawing, swallowing him. It warps Yuuri's mind to their first kiss. To a damp summer day, petrichor stinging his nostrils and tangy mint on his tongue. The kiss strikes like a sucker punch, throws him from a cliff and leaves him spinning. It's tender and explosive and ruins him from the inside out. Nothing makes him feel so complete.

Nothing has changed. Viktor feels exactly the same against his lips, in his heart. A silvery moon still dances in his soul.

"Are you sure you still love me without my wings?"

Yuuri chokes on a laugh, quickly separating from him with a half-hearted glare. This time he does give him a smack, a hard pat to his upper arm. "You're such a goober." Yuuri pulls him back in by the cord of his sweats. "Of course I do."

"You sure this is going to work, Yuuri?"

Viktor is sitting in a position very familiar to Yuuri, surrounded by the same scent Yuuri had cursed at sixteen. Yuuri's family's seal flicks off of Viktor's tiring finger again and again as he chants words both alien and at home to his tongue.

"Yup. You're my husband. Why wouldn't my family's sigil work for you?" Yuuri's not far, only seemingly distracted by the menial labor of checking their inventory of herbs, cataloguing and tying and blessing some of their new stock. Mostly, he's a standing guard, a knight ready to smite whatever Viktor may summon that isn't a familiar, to shield him from the harm that may come from a mispronounced word or a wayward gesture. Viktor is still learning, after all. Yuuri may be a tad on the overprotective side, but summoning can be a dangerous thing.

"I'm not your husband yet, and other than yours, I have no magical spirit to bind me to your clan's mark."

"Technicalities," Yuuri replies with a flit of his eyes over his shoulder, hands busy crushing wolf's bane beneath his pestle. "And you have more than enough magic to summon a familiar of your own. You've become quite the witch. Have a little faith."

Viktor huffs, billowing his bangs up as he flops his top half forward. He crumples himself into a compressed sandwich and it takes everything in Yuuri not to laugh. "But it's already been eons, Yuuri."

"Quit your whining. It hasn't been that long." Yuuri turns from his position at the counter to send a telekinetic flick to Viktor's ear. It's forbidden for anyone to enter the summoning circle during open sessions, but a toss of a little magic didn't hurt. Anyone but Viktor, anyway. "Sit up! Posture straight! You'll never summon anything with that slouch."

Viktor instantly straightens and his finger draws with renewed vigor. Rather than a simple flick, Viktor acts like Yuuri has just smacked his rear with a ruler. Yuuri stifles his smile. Minako might have slipped him some lessons about dealing with unruly students.

"It's been thirteen hours," Viktor grumbles as the passage of time once again takes its toll, "and climbing. I'll be old and rusty by the time anything crawls out of here. Yuuri won't love me anymore."

"Oi, I'll be old and rusty, too."

"But Yuuri is gorgeous always. I'll probably have creaky bones and a balding head. I'll get lost wandering around looking for my teeth."

Yuuri gasps, dramatically dropping a clump of allicorn feathers that scatter across the floor. "But your hair!"

"Gee, thanks. No 'I'll always love you, Viktor, even when my reflection shines on your growing forehead.' Jerk."

Viktor sticks out his tongue and glowers at him. It's the perfect opening and Yuuri can't help it. He ponders, hand to his chin as he 'appraises' Viktor's appearance. "You do have quite the large forehead."

"Yuuri!"

"Gods, Viktor. Yes, I love you. Yes, I will always love you. Old and rusty and bald and friggin' whiny as hell. Always. Now shut up and keep drawing. Vicchan didn't just pop up within minutes. It took blood, sweat, and tears. Days of devotion and a good chunk of my sanity. Don't think you can just-"

"Yuuri!" Little zips sound in the air before Viktor, wisps of silvery energy synching into a glowing orb. It explodes, and out of the hazy cloud of purple leaps a large, fully grown poodle.

"-summon something so easily…" Yuuri finishes with a blank stare. "I don't know if I should feel pride or hatred."

"Pride! Yuuri, look! She's almost like Vicchan. Aren't you? You beautiful, beautiful baby pup. My little Makkachin," Viktor coos, snuggling the ginormous poodle with face rubs and full belly pats. It doesn't take long for Vicchan to race over, bouncing next to the new familiar that practically towers over him.

It melts Yuuri into complete goop. "Well, it's different for everyone," Yuuri says with a shrug, too happy for his fiancé to care just how unfair this is.

Yuuri and Viktor retain their own brand of normalcy in their little bubble in the woods. They don't talk much of the life Viktor has left behind, the eternity he's given up for a place at Yuuri's side. The fear is always there, a tiny, niggling thing that nips at Yuuri's insides when he feels the most vulnerable. He can't be enough to replace the time, the opportunities, his position as king. Viktor will now die because of him.

Viktor tames the beast growing inside of Yuuri with the simplest of answers that contains the barest of Viktor within.

"I don't fear death, actually."

"You can't be serious."

"No, I am." Viktor comments through the steam rising over his rice, kicked back beneath a wilting maple. Vicchan and Makkachin are nowhere in sight, soaring above the trees in their dragon forms. Yuuri swears that Minako's familiar is a terrible influence on them.

"For so long there was just this yawning expanse of time, limitless before me. It was terrifying. Watching everything outside my realm pass by with such untamable speed. Seeing everything within the world I love age beyond my reach while I stood still." Old haunts rest in the shadows across Viktor's face and Yuuri's rendered silent. It's in these moments that Yuuri's reminded of just how long Viktor has lived. His life before Yuuri lies unsaid between them. "But now I can appreciate every moment that passes, life's quality improved by its limitation. Every day smells fresher, tastes newer. I get to experience life like I never have before. Death may lie ahead of me now, but my life is now a door that can be opened and closed, instead of a winding hallway to get lost in."

Viktor never cared for the throne, and he has plenty of kin to war over its burdens. The family that matters still visits. They still haunt their midnight hours with starlit dances and bad witch jokes. But there's a flicker in Viktor's gaze as he watches one of their pups take flight. The loss of Viktor's wings was truly not much of a loss to Yuuri. He still caresses the soft expanse of Viktor's back, feels the scars like the swirls that once were.

But Viktor feels the loss as he's planted on the ground. Rooted. Tethered.

Yuuri tries to mend the wound.

They're slow dancing one night to the pulse of the forest, caught in the current of the passing day. Viktor's forehead's tucked into the crevice of his neck, steps lazy, whispered words loving. Yuuri waits until Viktor's eyes slip shut and without a word recites a levitation spell in his mind. Yuuri still steps, Viktor in tempo with him. Their entwined forms surface from the trees. They join the sky and share its breathtaking view. Viktor has yet to notice.

Yuuri kisses his cheek once, twice, and because the anticipation threatens to boil over he whispers, "Open your eyes, Viktor."

Viktor does and Yuuri's heart stops. It's like watching Viktor out by his family's pond. He's light with life and sunken with woe, that same bittersweet mixture that stole Yuuri's gaze every night. It manifests in the tear that trembles off a long eyelash.

"Oh, Yuuri. This…"

Yuuri lets go and Viktor's all on his own. Floating. He throws out his arms and flaps them like he needs to keep himself from falling. The ridiculous sight punches a laugh out of Yuuri. Viktor owl eyes him, steadies, and then he laughs, too. His eyes are a dazzling bright. Viktor calls Yuuri his sunbeam -from the feeling of his soul, apparently- but that look that Viktor has as he begins to dance in the air is pure, unfiltered sunlight. Its glory leaves blisters, but Yuuri's content in its rays.

"There are ways to give you back your wings," Yuuri says as Viktor returns to him.

"You are my wings." Viktor nuzzles their noses as they descend from a blend of deep blues.

Yuuri stares into his reflection in the water. The pond ripples with tadpoles, skips with skittering bugs. It is a reminder of life, as is his reflection. The future of the ring on his finger. The present of the face peeking in. The past of the inn that stands behind him.

He is home.

He stands outside with Viktor, staring at the tatters of what once was and what could be. The rest of their family is with them. Vicchan and Makkachin. Minako. Yuuko and Takeshi and their rambunctious three. Each of Viktor's fairy friends and a new addition that holds quietly onto Yuri's hand. Yuuri even feels his late family with him, giving him strength, hardening his resurrected shield.

"A new beginning," Viktor says, hand an anchor in his own.

"No," Yuuri replies. "The continuation of a beautiful life."