Work Text:
Having the ability to alter the red string of fate was a gift, Yuuri's mother told him. It wasn’t his fault for being born to the city’s renowned fortune teller. His mother was the only 'true' fortune teller these days, still carrying on a small inkling of magic in her veins. No father, the townsfolk would whisper. A being not of this world, some being from a place where magic still reigned. But despite the rumours, his abilities were the only thing keeping Hasetsu alive. Even with the healing hot springs, it was barely enough to keep tourists at a steady influx during the winter.
His fateful services were constantly being whispered about – to tend to the red spider-silk like thread and draw the person on the other side closer - their meeting date closer – pulling on the desire to visit a specific location, town, country.Everyone had such strange perceptions about it. Rather than being a solid, scarlet colour, it was merely tinted spider-silk, strong if left in nature but fragile if something fake touched it. His touch was exactly this outside force. Bringing someone closer was a dangerous game of how tense the thread could be pulled – too much and it could snap. That would mean no way of finding their soulmate, no one they could truly grow old with, platonic or romantic.
That thought had always crept into his mind at night. His red string was half of others; lighter than air, thinner than anyone’s he had encountered. It scared him, the thought that one day, it wouldn’t be there at all – that it might disappear into thin air, rightfully taken away by the gods for messing with other’s lives. His mother was one of these people. She willingly sacrificed it for the chance to have him, someone that could carry on the Katsuki legacy.
Sometimes he wishes his mother never did that to herself. Mari didn't have an ounce of magic in her so she was free to do as she liked, running the last successful onsen with the customers her family brought in. Maybe his mother would be happy, having a way to find someone who could stay longer than a few years at most. But he couldn't do anything about the past - only the future.
His thread used to be as thick as rope when he was still young and naïve and careless. When he still let himself indulge in the ideas of love at first sight and was ignorant to the knots that human nature caused. Maybe that was the problem, but he couldn’t help it; he worked with people who risked their only chance of knowing their soulmate to only meet them sooner. He was repairing others, but losing himself in the meantime.
----------------
Viktor had seen his red string of fate before. The part closest to him was rope like as usual – strong and unwavering and reliable. He’d like to think those aspects of him reflected his own personal traits. Someone that could be trusted with a heart one day. But he knew that line of thought was mostly wishful thinking.
Some time ago, the length of thread that stretched out over the horizon had started to thin. It was like a disease that made its way towards his wrist, a taint that couldn’t be removed. Now, it had become tangible; he could see it clearly in his vision, only metres away from him. When he first saw it, Viktor took the time to visit a temple, and ask him to explain the phenomenon. With slow, drawn out words, all the man could say was “The person is losing faith in the strength of fate.” He didn’t know what to make of that after he heard it. What challenges were they facing? What was making them so miserable that the future seemed too far away for fate to be real? He asked the man to fix it, somehow turn it back to the rope it was, instead of the thread it was named after. The man only shook his head and told him it wasn’t in his powers to do so.
So Viktor sought out someone who could.
----------------
Sunlight was filtering through leaves and the scent of blooming, pale pink trees would be the topic of small talk everywhere today. Spring was in full bloom after a frightening winter. Viktor was making his way to a home on the outskirts of a small city, with backpack and dog in tow. Crammed into every pocket were gifts that someone would present to the family of a partner to appease the ravenous monsters that most mother-in-laws were. But unlike what his friend Chris thought, it was payment – to make peace with himself and someone on the other side of his thread of fate. Hopefully, pull them closer before the thread snapped entirely. It was a risk, but it was better than letting them have no one at all.
He was given no directions to the house, only a riddle to ponder to find an approximate location. Eventually, he arrived at the foot of the path leading up to the refuge he sought. This must have been why it was so vague - the pristine sight stood out so much, there would have been no questioning regardless. Gazing upon the sight of weeping trees and the sound of a waterfall, his heart felt like it could burst with something he couldn’t pinpoint. Something higher than his existence, that all the powers in the world were converging to bring him here.
It led Viktor and his companion onwards, stone step by stone step.
----------------
Yuuri could feel something coming. A premonition of sorts, his mother Hiroko suggested. He shook her head at this, it wasn’t a bad feeling, but there were no words that could fully describe it. He checked his thread daily, and to his surprise, it was looser, like there was nothing at the end was pulling at it anymore. Perhaps they had passed, or maybe they had been cut off by someone else, before he could summon the courage to do it herself.
It was spring, but nothing new was growing in his life, still sleeping in hibernation from winter. He wondered when it would arise. His mother, with a grin plastered on her face came into his room carrying green tea, steam still rising from two ceramic cups. Yuuri cocked his head in question of the extra one, but she signed to indicate there was another fool who wished to play with the strings of fate. He sighed and granted them permission to enter.
It was a man with silver hair and blue eyes. He looked foreign, with his sharply cut features, his striking gaze and power in every step as he approached the low table Yuuri was sitting at. It made his heart beat a little faster, despite his need to stay calm during these encounters. His mother left the room and finally, he could start. In accented English, Yuuri asked, "What would you like me to do?” Surprise took over the other man's expression, likely over the unexpected English, the man scrumbled to reply, "Bring them closer.”
Yuuri closed his eyes to see, and in a moment, he knew. This familiar red rope, who he was, and who was on the other side. He opened his eyes again to peer into the expansion of blue of the other's eyes, and reached across the table to touch his hands. The moment he touched, a sensation took over him. It was fire, electricity, stinging. A flash of white overtook his vision, and the red string of fate was rope again. It was loose, and he realised.
This was him.
His soulmate.