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Four must search east in one’s childhood life
to find a new vessel and free this one of strife.
Amidst terrors and trials, the oracle shall sing
with eyes the color of spring, and lips to kiss the golden ring.
“Mmrgh…” Balthus’ face is screwed up in concentration. “That one.”
Yuri shakes his head. “Almost definitely not. Look at her eyes, she looks like she’s already wasted in the middle of the afternoon.”
“Man, I give up.” Balthus throws his hands up. “How are we expected to find one mortal out of millions in this city? We don’t even get a clue or anything! Y’know, aside from that prophecy that didn’t make a lick of sense.”
Yuri sighs, propping his chin up on the edge of his palm. He hates to admit it, but Balthus has a point—they’ve been searching for days, but there’s still no sign of the supposedly clear-sighted mortal destined to be the camp’s next Oracle. “Should we call it a day for now? I’m exhausted.”
The prophecy had been, as usual, annoyingly vague—it had mentioned the mortal having green eyes, but then Constance argued it could just be a bit of poetic freedom. Which Yuri hadn’t thought the Oracle could even have, but, whatever. Then it had said they’d find her near Hapi’s old elementary school, so they’d thought she could be a student there, but they’d had no luck getting in—mostly because Hapi had been too lazy to file for an alumna ID card before graduating. They even checked the gym Balthus frequents in the area, but still nothing.
“Got it!” Balthus yawns, stretching his arms and standing up from the bench. “Man, that was a total bore. When do we get to fight some monsters? I thought we’d run into—uh, what’d the prophecy say—all kinds of terrors here!”
Yuri scowls. “I’d rather not.” He’d just gotten his nails done before the summer started, completely forgetting he still had to go to Camp Half-Blood and undergo training his manicure most likely wouldn’t hold up under. So far all his nails are still intact, but he’s getting increasingly worried that won’t be the case if Balthus tests fate like this. “I’ll meet you back up in the apartment in, mm, ten minutes? I wanna walk around a little more.”
“Sure thing. You’ve got some drachma, right? Just in case?”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me if Constance and Hapi found anything on their end, okay?” Although Yuri thinks they took the chance to sneak away together and go on a dozen food dates around the city. Hopefully they still managed to find something.
Once Balthus leaves, Yuri sighs and stands up as well, casting a cursory glance around him. Still nothing and no one of interest—on one hand, he’ll welcome the suspicious absence of monsters, as that means his nails will live to see another day. On the other hand, if he stays here doing the same thing over and over again everyday without any results, he doesn’t know how long his sanity will last.
Oh, well… Hapi is nice enough to let them all stay in her rundown apartment for the duration of the mission, as it’s only a few minutes’ walk to her old school, but it can’t be denied that her fridge isn’t used to feeding three more mouths than usual. It’s getting late enough that the sky is darkening and the lamp posts are coming alive, so Yuri doesn’t think he’ll run into any trouble if he tries… earning a little pocket money for himself tonight.
He picks a direction at random and scours the street for someone distracted-looking enough to rob—then again, with his blood and his street-honed skills, he could probably steal from anyone without a hitch. Yuri spots a man flipping through a stack of papers while waiting at a crossing, and grins at the corner of what looks like a wallet peeking out of his back pocket. Perfect.
Yuri shifts closer, pretending to tiptoe to see the traffic lights over the man’s head—the moment he gets a good grip on his wallet, he slips it into his own pocket, feeling familiar satisfaction warm his chest up. Stealing in the middle of the city is somehow just so much more of a thrill than nabbing the answer key from the teacher or some rich kid’s lunch money, and he’s sure there’s far more than just a few dollars in here—
The man whirls around. Yuri doesn’t think before taking off at a run, kicking his natural speed into overdrive—he doesn’t bother turning around, because that’ll waste time and give the man a face to memorize, and so he doesn’t expect a hand to clamp down on his shoulder and pull him back with inhuman force.
“Ow, fuck,” Yuri hisses, wrenching free of the man’s grip—or trying to, at least, because the man holds down on him hard enough that Yuri resigns himself to bruises in the morning. “Hey! Alright, fine, let go, here’s your stupid money back. Ugh.”
He can feel his face burning in embarrassment—when was the last time he’d gotten caught? Probably years ago, when he was still a child living on the streets and he hadn’t been as refined yet as he is now. How could he have let this happen? Yuri wants to bash his head against the wall. “Go report me while you’re at it,” he grumbles, still stubbornly facing away from the man as he hands him his wallet back. “Though with a fuckin’ grip like that, I doubt you need to.”
There’s silence, and the wallet is still in his hand. Yuri reluctantly turns around, just enough for him to see the man standing behind him from the corner of his eye. “Uh, hello?” Yuri prompts, jabbing the wallet in his direction. “Do you want me to run off with this again?”
“I’m not going to report you,” the man says, and—oh. Hm. Yuri’s a bit surprised his voice sounds that nice. “Um, actually… do you want me to buy you something? You look too thin.”
“…Huh?”
The man takes his wallet and cracks it open. Yuri can’t resist turning around a little bit more to see just how much is in there, but from this angle he can’t see more than the tips of some dollar bills. “Uh… sorry. I bought some notebooks for my students earlier, so I don’t have much left. Is there anything you want, though?”
Wait a minute. Now Yuri gets it—he’s probably this man’s type, isn’t he? This always happened whenever he was invited to a party and boring business majors would approach him all shy and blushy and offer him a drink. “What’s with you?” Yuri says, injecting his usual charm into his voice. “Do you do this to every stranger who tries to mug you?”
The man shrugs. “You look hungry. It’s not a big deal.”
Huh, he doesn’t even look affected. Yuri wonders if the man’s shy and blushing internally. “Well, uh…” There’s always the possibility that the guy’s a serial killer and he’s inviting Yuri over for some homicidal fun, but… there’s also the possibility this guy’s just that nice. And anyway, if he is the former, Yuri’s sure he could take him on. Probably. Possibly. Okay, maybe after sending an Iris message to Balthus and company, but still.
So Yuri flashes his prettiest smile. “Alright then. Who am I to say no?”
Fortunately, the man doesn’t seem to have any intentions of murdering Yuri. Unfortunately, his wallet is pitifully empty, and he can only afford two medium-sized ice cream cones for the both of them.
Which, like, okay. Beggars can’t be choosers, Yuri supposes, but as he stares down at his vanilla-flavored ice cream, all he can think is, Really?
“Sorry,” the man—who introduced himself as Byleth, what kind of name is that—apologizes again, looking sheepish. He’d gotten himself a strawberry cone, and looked ecstatic about it the whole while. “I… didn’t expect I’d have so little… uh, I’ll make sure I bring more money next time.”
Yuri snorts. “‘Next time?’ So this is gonna be a regular occurrence now?” He can’t say he doesn’t like the sound of that, though, at least for as long this mission keeps them here. Broke as they are, he might as well take advantage of this mortal’s misplaced kindness.
Byleth shrugs. “If you like.”
“If I like?” Yuri mutters. “Who’s the one spending their money here?” He takes a tentative lick of the ice cream, fully aware that eating dessert on an empty stomach is a surefire way of asking to be stuck in Hapi’s bathroom for an hour tonight, but unable to bring himself to care. Hm… it’s actually not half-bad, for the cheapest ice cream vendor they could find.
He’s not sure what he’d been expecting when Byleth smiles, just slightly, the upwards quirk in the corner of his lips barely visible in the street lights. “I don’t mind. Um… I’m a teacher at the elementary school nearby. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
“Okay, now you’re just being too nice,” Yuri says, although he can’t stop licking at the ice cream anymore. “What kind of guy just ups and tells a stranger where he works? You realize I could visit you when you have a lot more money and then just use it for myself? If I wanted to, I bet I could have gotten two ice cream cones by now.”
“No, you couldn’t.”
“Urgh.” Yuri supposes he hadn’t been blessed with strength like Balthus had. But the point stands. “Whatever. How’d you get so fast anyway? I like to think I’m pretty speedy.”
Byleth shrugs. “Exercise, I guess. I used to be a security guard. What about you? Do you have a job, or a place to stay?”
Does Yuri look that poor? “I’m fine,” he grudgingly relents, holding himself back from telling everything about himself to the guy. Demigods only trust other demigods—and sometimes not even, really. “Not doing too well financially, but, uh. You know. We get by, I guess.” He wonders how Mom’s doing back home. Probably missing him like crazy.
“Oh. That didn’t really answer the question.”
“Look, thanks for the ice cream, really,” Yuri says, managing to keep himself from snapping at the last second, “and for the whole not reporting me to the police, but—we’re strangers. What’s to say we’re going to see each other again after this? If you’re always this nice, someone’s going to end up taking advantage of you more than I already have.”
Byleth recoils like he’s been struck, and looking at the frown on that adorable face makes Yuri’s chest sting with guilt. “O… Oh,” he repeats, sounding downright miserable. “Right. Sorry. It’s just… you look like… well, never mind.”
Great. Now Yuri just feels bad. “Fate’s cruel, you know,” he says, his voice softening of its own accord. “It’s not something to be trusted. Sometimes it’s best to accept that before it forces you to learn it the hard way.” And, because the way Byleth is staring dejectedly down at his ice cream is impossible to look at without Yuri feeling like he’s become even more of a terrible person than he already is, he nudges Byleth with his elbow. “Did you say I look like someone?”
Unexpectedly enough, color rises to Byleth’s cheeks for possibly the first time throughout their entire conversation—and Yuri hadn’t even been trying to embarrass him. “It’ll sound silly.”
“Can’t get any sillier than buying ice cream for a stranger, can it?”
Byleth sighs, scratching his cheek. “That’s true. Well, um… it’s just, the other night—”
He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes growing wide as he stares at something behind Yuri, and Yuri frowns. “What is it,” he starts—and doesn’t continue, when he feels the hair at the back of his neck rise.
He’s not sure if every other demigod just gets That Feeling that something isn’t right—for Balthus, Yuri knows it’s just his gut instinct, and Hapi grew up with monsters long enough to be almost scarily in-tune to their presence. But for Yuri—well, somehow he always just knows when things are about to go wrong. For instance, right now, when he turns around, he’s already thinking about how he’s possibly going to get out of this situation.
The situation, as it turns out, involves the fucking Chimera.
It’s as tall as the lamp post it’s growling at, and the snake-tail growing out of its behind snaps at a passerby, poisonous fangs narrowly missing the woman’s head—shit, what the hell is the whole-ass Chimera doing in the middle of a city? Yuri’s sure the Mist obscures it enough that it probably just looks like a rhinoceros or something, but the monster can still very well injure and kill the people around it. And Yuri really doesn’t want to do this, but…
“Sorry, Byleth,” Yuri calls, stuffing the rest of the ice cream cone in his mouth, “but I just remembered that I really need to go somewhere, real quick.” He flicks his right wrist, and the ring on his index finger glimmers before the adamantine sword morphs to life in his hand. Yuri had left the Fetters of Dromi back at Hapi’s, mostly because he doesn’t like carting around two different weapons at once, but he’ll just have to hope he’ll be fine without it.
Byleth clears his throat, still staring at the Chimera across them. It’s snarling at every human too near it, and one middle-aged man screams and runs seconds before the Chimera would have crushed him with its claw. “It, um. Wouldn’t have anything to do with that thing over there, would it?”
“Oh, haha, yeah, totally,” Yuri manages, trying to glance at the Chimera from the corner of his eye—when not looking at something directly, the Mist tended to hide things even from demigods—and catches a glance of a regular lion on the street. “Guess this guy finally got out from the circus, or… wherever the hell he was in. Okay gotta go bye!”
He thinks Byleth calls for him, but he’s not too sure—all Yuri knows is that he has to send the Chimera back to Tartarus where it belongs and keep unnecessary blood off his hands. “Hey! Ugly-ass lion bitch!” he yells, once he’s close enough and the area has been emptied of escaping passersby.
As expected, the Chimera’s head snaps towards him with a growl. Yuri grins, more to keep himself from getting too nervous than anything. “Where the hell did you come from, huh? Looking for me?” He waves Killing Edge around in the air, light glimmering off its silver blade and catching the Chimera’s eyes. “Come and get me, then!”
He takes off at a run, half-relieved and half-terrified when he hears the Chimera bounding after him. What now? Yuri’s not delusional enough to think he can take on the monster on his own. Maybe if he lures it nearer to Hapi’s, he could get the rest of them to help, but after walking around the city looking for a food stand cheap enough for Byleth’s wallet, Yuri has no idea where they even are now.
Fuck. Is he screwed? He casts a look around, but there aren’t any nearby fountains to send an Iris message from, and he doubts the Chimera will stop and let him call for backup anyway.
Yuri turns a corner, hoping to find some alleyways to confuse the Chimera in, but curses when he finds a dead end instead. A look behind him reveals the Chimera is catching up fast, claws digging into the pavement and generally causing an unbelievable amount of property damage Yuri hopes won’t be traced back to him somehow.
So… he is screwed.
“Yuri!” someone calls—hope blooms in his chest when Yuri cranes his neck to peer behind the Chimera, only for that hope to wither like a dying flower when he sees—not Balthus, not Constance, not Hapi, but Byleth. “What are you—” Byleth yelps and leaps back. “Is that a sword?”
What? Mortals shouldn’t be able to see through the Mist. “Get out of here!” Yuri shouts, but it’s too late—the Chimera’s lion head swivels around to face Byleth, and its snake-tail hisses, venom dripping from its fangs. Oh, this is so not good. Yuri is not about to let some nice teacher die because he bought him ice cream. “Hey! Eyes on me!” Yuri yells, abandoning all second thoughts and running straight up towards the Chimera.
He’s fast enough to intercept it right before it would have leapt towards a frozen Byleth—Yuri cuts a deep gash down its back, and it howls and lurches to the side, crushing some poor guy’s flowers. “I said get out of here,” Yuri repeats, turning around to scowl at Byleth, who is still, for some reason Yuri cannot wrap his head around, standing there rather than running away.
“But—” His eyes widen again. “Behind you!” And then, quicker than Yuri can react, Byleth digs something out of his bag and throws it with unnatural speed and strength at the Chimera.
Yuri turns around, just in time to witness a bright pink Barbie notebook smack into the Chimera’s eye.
Yuri’s seen a lot in his life as a demigod. There was the whole thing about Mom falling in love with the god of thieves, for one, and then there was that one time they got to go to the Underworld to have tea with Hapi’s dad, and then that one other time the only way they could save the camp from possible annihilation was to have Constance follow poop trails left behind by dogs and polecats, the sacred animals of her mother Hecate… and you get the point.
But he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone try to attack a monster, much less the Chimera, with a fucking Barbie notebook, nor does he think he will ever see it again.
The notebook distracts the Chimera just long enough for Yuri to get out of its immediate chomp zone—he hurries back towards the wound he’d just left and strikes there again, but the Chimera thrashes wildly around and nearly throws him off. Yuri digs his blade deeper into the wound, eternally thankful that monsters don’t bleed, else his clothes would have been drenched in the stuff by now. “Byleth, go,” Yuri all but pleads, catching Byleth’s eyes for a second. “It’s dangerous!”
Byleth’s expression shifts from shocked to determined in a blink. He says something back, but the Chimera roars in the same moment, drowning his voice out—Yuri yelps and tumbles off the monster’s back. He lands on the pavement with an oof, sword clattering next to him, and looks up to see the Chimera bound towards Byleth. “No,” he’s shouting, standing up and racing after the monster, but for once in his life he’s too slow—
The Chimera screeches in pain, suddenly backing away. Yuri stares, a little—okay, very—dumbly at the pocket knife Byleth pulled out of his bag, and then at the Chimera’s right eye, now forced shut.
“What the fuck?” he says, because that’s all he can really think right now.
Unfortunately, the Chimera’s got two heads for a reason—its snake-tail arcs through the air, all ten feet of it, zipping straight for Byleth’s face. Yuri scowls and charges straight for it, just in time to slash down and cut off its head. The snake lets out one last shriek before its head topples onto the floor, rolling to a stop by Byleth’s foot. “Are you okay?” Yuri shouts over the Chimera’s roars. “Why the hell didn’t you run!?”
Byleth grabs his upper arm to pull him out of the Chimera’s claws—this means he pulls Yuri face-first into his chest, which is something Yuri has read hundreds of times from terrible romance novels that for a moment Yuri can’t even do anything but stare, dazed, up at Byleth’s face. “I couldn’t just leave you,” Byleth tells him, so painfully earnest, and—
When Yuri looks up at Byleth like this, he could swear he’s never seen eyes this clear.
No way. This schoolteacher who bought him ice cream and used a Barbie notebook as a lethal weapon… couldn’t possibly be the next Oracle. Could he?
There’s no more time to think, because Yuri can feel the Chimera preparing another attack—he shoves Byleth to the side and ducks, narrowly dodging the stream of fire the Chimera breathes out. He tightens his grip on his sword and runs back, moving directly into its blind side, and strikes down as hard as he can at its neck.
The Chimera rears back, an unearthly wail falling from its jaws—and then, finally, it begins to dissolve into golden dust. It takes a good few seconds before its entire body fades into nothing, leaving only the stink of sulfur in the air… and the head of its snake-tail, still on the ground and staring at nothing, fangs poised to attack. Yuri scowls and kicks it aside, hoping it rolls into the gutter to rot forever. “Byleth?” he calls, glancing to the side.
Only to find Byleth splayed out on a trash bin, presumably after Yuri had shoved him without looking. “Oh, shit, sorry,” Yuri mutters, holding his hand out for Byleth to take. “Uh, you’re fine, right? The Chime—I mean, the lion—I mean, fuck—”
“The Chimera,” Byleth murmurs. “I figured that was it.”
“You figured?”
“Well, it definitely wasn’t a circus lion.”
Yuri sighs, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “Seriously, are you alright? How did you see that? And—” He lifts his sword up, waving it in front of Byleth’s face. Byleth steps back a little, looking a bit alarmed, but not, well… scared. “You can see this too, can’t you?”
“It’s… a sword,” Byleth says, blinking. “Wow. What’s it made of?”
“Adamantine,” Yuri answers, mostly on reflex, “and it’s named Killing Edge, ‘cause—hey, no, wait a minute!” He taps his sword’s hilt, and it shrinks back into the silver ring on his finger; Byleth watches the transformation, looking absolutely enchanted. “How can you see all this? You… can’t be the mortal we’ve been looking for, can you?”
Byleth’s nose scrunches up in confusion. It is annoyingly adorable. Yuri ignores this. “Mortal?”
“But Oracles are traditionally maidens,” Yuri mutters, now mostly to himself. Unable to stand still any longer, he starts pacing the length of one crushed garbage bin to the other, only half-aware of Byleth watching him and looking more befuddled by the second. “And you don’t have green eyes… then again, all the prophecy said was the color of spring, and I guess it could be blue…”
“Yuri?” Byleth prompts, and Yuri snaps out of his marathon of thoughts. “Could you… explain what just happened, please?”
Right. Yuri should probably do that. “Uh, well… to start… you know the Greek gods and goddesses? Yeah, well, they exist. They’re real. And they had kids with humans, which resulted to demigod children, like me.” If he were a Poseidon kid, he could draw water out of the sewage canal, or if he were a Zeus kid, he could probably call on a thunderstorm right now, to make his point. But Yuri’s just one out of a dozen Hermes kids back at camp, and he has no idea how to demonstrate that he’s speedy and can steal well, especially when Byleth had countered both of those pretty easily through sheer exercise alone.
Surprisingly enough, Byleth nods. “Okay,” he says, like this isn’t upending his knowledge of the world as he knows it. “So you have a god for a parent? Or a goddess?”
Yuri nods, feeling suddenly shy. “My dad’s Hermes. I don’t know him that well, but he’s… he’s cool, I guess.” They’d had all of two conversations, and one of those had been in the middle of a near-death experience, but Yuri prefers not to think back on that. “Now I’m getting concerned for you. Why aren’t you freaking out yet?”
Byleth shrugs. “I think I always knew,” he says. He slings his bag over his shoulder, and another notebook tumbles out—this time with a My Little Pony cover design. Yuri stares straight ahead, else he dissolve into laughter. “I’ve seen a lot of… strange… things in my life… I just figured it was better not to question it. Um, but getting up close with one of the monsters I always thought were just awful hallucinations sure changed that for me.”
“Should’ve known,” Yuri murmurs to himself—after all, he’s pretty sure no regular mortal is going to look a Chimera in the eye and think, hey, I should take this giant monster on with a Barbie notebook and a four-inch pocket knife! “I still have a lot to explain, but—uh, it’s getting late, and I bet you’re exhausted. Do you wanna meet up tomorrow?”
Byleth looks almost—disappointed, but nods, bending down to pick up the fallen notebook. “Okay. See you tomorrow—oh!” He brightens, for some inconceivable reason, and gives Yuri a tiny smile. “I’ll make sure to bring more money. We can go out on my lunch break.”
Fuck! Why did he have to look so cute? Yuri almost hopes this guy isn’t actually the prophesied Oracle, because if he has to spend another few days with this guy traveling back to camp, Yuri can’t guarantee he’s still going to be a maiden by the end of the mission. “It’s a date, then.”
At the blush that rises to Byleth’s cheeks, Yuri mentally claps himself on the back.
Yuri spent the entirety of last night subsisting on chicken chops Balthus had bought from the nearby café and reading the prophecy over and over again (scrawled in Hapi’s illegible handwriting on the back of a milk tea receipt) that the first words that beam into his brain when he wakes up the next morning are, eyes the color of spring, lips to kiss the golden ring.
And, really, he probably shouldn’t have fixated on that particular line so much last night, but it’s just for him to know, okay? No big deal. Constance has a ring too. Maybe Byleth will kiss her hand or whatever. Not Yuri’s business. Absolutely not.
“Wake up,” Hapi groans, throwing a pillow at his face for what feels like the third time. Yuri takes the pillow and buries his face in it as response. “Yuri-bird, come on! Monsters!”
Fuck. He can’t sleep through that. “Where? What kind?” Yuri glances down, cringes at how he’s still wearing his clothes from yesterday, and tumbles off the bed to grab his jacket off the back of a chair. Not exactly as fashionable as he prefers, but he doesn’t have much choice.
“Just outside. I can feel ‘em.” Hapi leans out of her muddied window, peering down below at the street. Yuri tries the bathroom, but it’s locked. Constance, then. Balthus is ripping through the leftover chicken from last night with unmatched vigor. “Couple of meters, I think… uh, they’re definitely getting closer.” She shakes her head. “I really don’t need them wrecking this place. It’s already ruined.”
“Do you know what kind?” Yuri asks again, looking over Hapi’s shoulder. He doesn’t see anything out of place, but he trusts Hapi’s monster-attuned instincts more than anything else.
“No. Too many people.” She frowns. “Ugh, the noise is like interference. But there are three of them, and I bet more are on the way. Get ready.” Hapi pulls her Stygian iron dagger from its sheath, the faint violet glow intensifying in her grip. “Coco! Hurry up in there, will you!”
Constance finally bursts out of the bathroom, hairbrush stuck in her curls. “I’m quite ready, thank you!” she announces, yanking the hairbrush out while it’s in the midst of transforming into her sword. It’s a shame she doesn’t have any physical strength to back said sword up with, nor does she know how to use it beyond the basics. “Where are those blasted monsters? I shall show them what happens when they wake up Constance Nuvelle from her much-needed beauty sleep!”
“They’re right below us.” Hapi narrows her eyes, grip tightening around her dagger. Yuri curses—he couldn’t even use the bathroom first?—and readies his own sword… but then Hapi frowns, the tension leaving her shoulders. “Huh? Hold on. They went right past us.”
“Are you kidding?” Balthus protests, wiping his chicken-y hands on some tissue before slipping his Celestial bronze gauntlets on. “And I was just getting pumped up! Where’d they go?”
“I don’t know. Not towards us.” Hapi leans out her window until nearly her entire upper body is outside, which Constance lets a distressed yelp out at. “I think… they’re heading for—”
Yuri feels dread curl cold around his heart. “The school.” Byleth.
“Oh. Shit,” Balthus says, emphatically.
They race down and out of the apartment building, Hapi leading the way—“Laistrygonian giants,” she finally manages to pick out, concentration furrowing her brow. The eight-foot-tall cannibals, Yuri remembers. “With iron clubs. Those’ll hurt mortals bad.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Could they have figured out that Byleth was destined to be the next Oracle, and were trying to stop that? For the gods’ sakes, the camp’s been looking for a new Oracle for ages, can’t they at least have someone who isn’t a corpse in the attic? Yuri picks up the pace, leaving the other three behind—he knows they’ll catch up later, anyway, and what matters now is getting to the school before the giants do.
Yuri gets to the school gates just in time to catch one of the giants bodying the two security guards in one smash while the other two charge in ahead. Shit. Would the giant actually kill the two mortals? If their target is Byleth, they probably won’t waste time with other humans. Yuri dashes in ahead while the guards attempt to fight off what probably looks like a terrorist with a shotgun, sending them a mental apology—they’re trained guards, they’ll probably last long enough for Balthus and the others to help.
But this is an elementary school, and the Laistrygonians could crush the children in one go.
He follows the sound of thundering footfalls at first, in the hopes that the giants know where Byleth might be, because Yuri certainly doesn’t. At some point the giants stop to mutter under their breaths, looking about as lost as Yuri is, and Yuri strains to hear whatever conversation they’re having.
Oracle, he catches—as he’d expected. Classroom… kill… None of this sounds good.
Then one of them grunts, “Backup on the way, yes?” and the moment Yuri sees the other one nod, he whirls around and races down the hallways. Backup? More of the stupid things? He and the rest of his team can only handle so many, especially while trying to minimize casualties and presumably lug around a clear-sighted mortal later on too. He has to hurry, then—it’s around brunch time right now, so Byleth’s probably in the middle of a class—
A scream echoes in the corridor. Fuck, Yuri thinks, possibly for the tenth time in half as many minutes, and takes off down the hallway.
He finds the third Laistrygonian he’d left behind ripping a classroom door off its hinges, and Yuri doesn’t stop to check if Byleth’s inside—he rushes over and swings his sword down, but the giant catches the blade in its fist and squeezes hard, enough that Yuri can feel the steel bending under its strength. “Fuck,” Yuri says, aloud this time, and taps the hilt so his sword shrinks back into a ring, only now he’s left without a weapon.
The Laistrygonian glances between Yuri and the classroom, as if unsure which to deal with first—then it roars and charges into the room, amidst a flurry of high-pitched screams. Yuri follows, lengthening Killing Edge again (gods, the dent in its blade is going to give the Hephaestus kids back at camp a headache), and curses, once again, when he meets Byleth’s wide eyes right before the giant lifts up the teacher’s table and hurls it towards Byleth.
Faster than even he himself thought possible, Yuri shoves the Laistrygonian out of his way as hard as he can, and launches himself through the air to slash the table in two before it hits Byleth.
The two halves of the table—along with a flurry of papers and an unfortunate pen holder—land on either side of a stunned Byleth, who Yuri crashes into. They topple onto the floor in a position that, under much more favorable circumstances, Yuri would probably be savoring at the moment. “Yuri?” Byleth sputters. “What are you—no!” he shouts, pushing—somehow still gently—Yuri off of him, then bodily diving in front of the Laistrygonian right as it swings its fist down on one of the screaming children.
Wood splinters under the giant’s hand—the student’s table shatters into pieces. Yuri surges forward before the Laistrygonian can attack again, swinging his sword and slicing into its neck. It manages one last groan before its head tumbles onto the floor like a lumpy dodgeball and begins fading into typical golden dust. The children watch, looking horrified and fascinated in equal measures—are they seeing a terrorist bleed out on their classroom floor?
“There are still two more of these guys somewhere in the school, and even more on the way,” Yuri says, grabbing Byleth’s arm. “We have to get out of here. I’ll explain what’s—”
“I can’t leave,” Byleth blurts out.
Yuri stares at him. “Now’s not the time to be stupid.”
“I’m not leaving until all the students evacuate,” Byleth adds, and there’s that familiar earnest conviction in the clear spring blue of his eyes, the same expression Yuri had seen on him just yesterday. “They think it’s a school shooting—please, I’ll go with you, but we need to get them out first. They’re in danger.”
Of course, of course, of course this guy wouldn’t want to leave evacuation up to the rest of the faculty and staff. “You…” don’t understand, Yuri wants to say, we have to get you out of here before they maul you to death, but somehow Yuri can’t bring himself to say it. Who is he to abandon those who can’t help themselves? Yuri had sworn a long time ago to always be there for his mother, and later for his half-siblings, and later for the rest of Camp Half-Blood. And now… for Byleth, he supposes.
Besides, Byleth had helped him out with the Chimera yesterday—and he’d bought him ice cream. Yuri doesn’t forget his debts.
Yuri pulls the golden ring off his left pinky and slips it onto Byleth’s own, ignoring how this situation would be even better under aforementioned favorable circumstances. With a touch, the ring stretches and morphs into the Fetters of Dromi, its weight settling along Byleth’s fingers and knuckles. “This hides your scent from the monsters,” he explains, as fast as possible. “It can absorb some damage too, but not much. Make it quick, alright?”
“Yuri—”
Byleth looks him in the eye, and Yuri has to rip his gaze away before he gets lost in the clear blue. “Go! Move it! We’ll take care of the rest!”
Yuri doesn’t know how long it takes before he meets back up with Balthus, Constance, and Hapi—when he does, he’s taken down one of the other Laistrygonians and lost sight of the other, to his frustration, while the other three look like they’ve gone through Tartarus and back. “What happened to you guys?” he shouts, over the blare of the emergency alarm.
Constance shakes her head, palms sparking with fire magic. “We were intercepted by a huge wave at the school gates—it took us ages before we could take them all down!”
“More are coming, though,” Hapi pants. Behind her, a skeleton warrior she probably summoned follows clumsily behind, stumbling over its own bones. “Where’s… Where’s the mortal? Oracle? Whatever?”
Yuri winces. “He’s, uh…”
“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find him!” Balthus squawks.
“No, that’s not it! He just insisted on evacuating the kids before joining us. Ugh…” Yuri runs a hand through his hair, figuring there’ll be little difference in messing it up a little bit more than it already is. “You said there are more, right? Let’s help with getting everyone out, there’s no point in fighting a never-ending wave of the monsters.”
The Laistrygonians are everywhere—they must have come from different parts of the city, because two or three at a time are entering from different gates, including the one the faculty are evacuating the children out of. Yuri arrives just in time to fend off one giant and witness Byleth dig a cupcake out of his bag (where had he even kept that) and toss it into the distance, which the Laistrygonian promptly chases after. “Yuri,” he says, once they meet eyes, “look—just another minute, I can’t find one of the kids from the other class—”
“Ugh.” Yuri glances outside the school. Balthus and the rest split up to cover the other gates, and they’d agreed to meet back at the gate they had entered from in another five minutes. Much as Yuri wants to drag Byleth out of this dreaded school… he can’t stomach the thought of abandoning a child in need. “Where were they last?”
Byleth tugs on his wrist, and Yuri lets him lead the way through the school’s winding corridors. The roars and cries of the Laistrygonians echo around them, and Yuri can hear Constance casting magic from afar. “Her classroom’s on the other side of the building,” Byleth says, worry lacing his words. “She must’ve gone to the restroom or something when this started—”
They turn the corner, in time to catch one of the giants lumbering into the restroom and grumbling under its breath. Yuri pushes Byleth behind him this time, and readies his sword—the giants are fairly stupid, and as long as Yuri can catch it by surprise, he won’t have to struggle to slice its head off. He creeps along the wall, slowly—
A scream. Yuri doesn’t even have time to react before Byleth is rushing into the restroom again, and this time all Yuri can do is sigh before following after.
The Laistrygonian, looking both confused and annoyed, is standing over a child shivering under the sink—it turns to face Byleth, lips curling back into a snarl, and raises its fist over his head. But Byleth moves fast, light glimmering off the Fetters of Dromi on his hand, and the giant only brushes the tail end of his coat as Byleth barrels towards the child, scoops her up in his arms, and backs up against the wall of the restroom. “Yuri!” he shouts.
Yuri grins, not sure why but not caring. “Got it!”
He’s never particularly understood what Balthus means whenever he talks about the adrenaline rush fighting gives him—Yuri had always assumed it was a child-of-Ares thing, since most of Balthus’ half-siblings in camp say much the same. But now that Yuri’s running towards the Laistrygonian, faster than the time it takes for it to turn around, and swings his sword down hard enough to cut clean through its neck—
When he lands on his feet light as a cat, perfectly steady but letting Byleth attempt to steady him anyway, Yuri thinks he finally understands what it means.
“W-What’s going on?” the child in Byleth’s arms whimpers. “Can we go home yet?”
Byleth smooths the student’s ruffled hair down and whispers something to her—then he looks up to meet Yuri’s eyes, and a smile spreads through his face. “Thank you,” he says, so genuine it’s almost painful. “Everyone else got out—we should go as well, before more come in the school.”
Yuri nods, not sure what else to say, until Byleth lets out a little oh sound and extends his hand over to him as they start walking out of the restroom. “Here, your… glove… thing,” Byleth says, looking curiously down at the gold material. “What is it anyway?”
“They’re called the Fetters of Dromi,” Yuri says, feeling himself smile as well. “My dad gave them to me when he saw I inherited his speed.” He taps the glowing stone in the center of the glove, and it shrinks back into a gold ring on Byleth’s pinky. “Hold onto it for now, just ‘til we get out of here. Better safe than sorry.”
Unfortunately enough, the faculty and staff think Balthus is one of the ‘school shooters’ rather than one of the people who saved them, which is honestly sort of hilarious. Regardless of the truth, they end up having to make a break for it before the principal can get their faces and names down, and Byleth stumbles after a few minutes later. “So… So sorry about them,” he gasps, looking over his shoulder as if searching for a mob of teachers. “Er, they’re a little known for not listening to reason. It’s why all the students hate them.”
Hapi nods seriously. “Even a decade later, this school still hires shitty teachers, huh?” Constance elbows her, not very subtly, and Hapi lazily adds, “Well, aside from you, maybe. Uh, who are you again?”
Balthus hangs his head, looking downright depressed. “How could they think the King of Grappling is a terrorist? Do I really look that intimidating?”
“It’s because you were terrifying all the children, that’s why,” Constance scolds.
Byleth blinks blankly at the three of them, before turning his gaze onto Yuri. “Sorry,” Yuri sighs. “They’re like this with everyone, so you’re not… well, I can’t say you’re not special, since you are,” he muses. “We don’t have time to stand around here, though. More monsters are going to find their way to us sooner or later—we need to get back to camp now that we’ve found you.”
“Found… me?” Byleth slowly repeats, as Hapi takes the lead to guide them out of the city via alleyways. “Right—you mentioned you were looking for…”
Yuri sighs once more. Just thinking about all the things he has to explain to Byleth drains him of whatever energy he might still have had. “Uh, I’ll tell you the bare essentials, but all other questions will have to wait until we get to where we’re bringing you, okay? If it makes you feel better, we’re not about to kill you.”
“Oh, okay.” Byleth nods, like he’s totally fine with abandoning his job for the rest of the week until things get sorted out. “Um—but I owe you a lunch date, don’t I?” He smiles, then, that amused little quirk of his lips.
Yuri feels his face flush when three pairs of eyes instantly turn to fixate on them. “That—uh—ah—my friends!” he stammers out. “We can’t—”
“It’s okay,” Byleth assures him, bringing out his wallet and, if the sudden jingle is anything to go by, counting his coins. “My favorite restaurant is pretty cheap. I can afford for all of us if I get a kid’s meal…”
Yuri grabs his wallet and shoves it back in his coat pocket. “How about you owe me a date later,” he says, bringing his face up close to Byleth’s—Yuri hadn’t intended for the emphasis on me, but though Byleth’s willingness to treat all of them to lunch is endearing, there’s a little snake named jealousy that wraps itself around his tongue. “For now, hand over my ring, please. Or do you want to keep it?”
Byleth stares at him silently, a blush high on his cheeks. “Oh,” he eventually manages, “right.” He reaches down to pull the ring off his finger, then—instead of just giving it to Yuri, like any normal person—takes Yuri’s hand to slip it on himself. He even puts it on the correct finger. “I also, um, meant to tell you something yesterday, but the Chimera sort of ruined things.”
“Oh?” Interest piqued, Yuri lets his hand linger a second too long than necessary on Byleth’s wrist before pulling back. He catches Constance and Balthus exchanging looks behind them, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Go on, then.”
“I saw you in a dream,” Byleth tells him, which is not something Yuri could probably ever have prepared for. “Just the night before we met. I… was looking into purple eyes, and then I remember waking up,” he murmurs, voice getting softer and lower, “and thinking they were beautiful.”
Yuri has to turn away, glare down Balthus and Constance giggling like schoolgirls, then turn back to face Byleth when his face doesn’t feel quite as hot. “In a dream, huh,” he pretends to mull over, completely ignoring the latter part of Byleth’s words. “That really must mean you’re fated to be the next Oracle.”
“Fate?”
“Yeah. It was prophesied and everything.”
Byleth looks amused. “I thought you told me fate was cruel and not something to trust.”
So much for forcing the blush down. “I didn’t think you’d actually remember some stranger’s words,” Yuri grumbles, folding his arms. His twin rings, silver and gold, wink up at him in the dim sunlight.
“But you’re not a stranger anymore,” Byleth says, and Yuri doesn’t really have anything to say to that.
Eyes the color of spring, Yuri remembers, glancing up at Byleth when he isn’t looking. And lips to kiss the golden ring…
Had the Oracle predicted Yuri would lend Byleth his Fetters of Dromi? Was that all the line was about? Because by the gods, Yuri hopes it gets a lot more literal than just that.