Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

I love him.

I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.

[three pages are torn out]
[indents of 'I love him,' pen pressed too hard]

There was so much blood. I cannot cleanse my hands; it has stained my fingernails.

I can still smell it.

I don't think it will go away.

(And yet I am happy.)

- - - - - - -

They had stabbed Yuu; straight through the chest. He took the blow for me. A fatal blow, it had seemed -- so much blood -- something I could survive and he cannot.

He should not be alive.

[more words, scratched out]

I pulled him from battle. Secrecy be damned: I carried him as fast as I could move. If he lives to hate me then at least he lives.

(Please forget, Yuu.)

- - - - - - -

I ran. I ran until my legs gave out, slid onto my knees in the mud. I didn't drop Yuu; my fingers gripped him tightly, tighter than they should have been. I didn't care.

I had noticed the blood.

The smell of iron drowning out the scent of the rain. The feeling of blood on my fingers erasing any recognition of the water and mud. So much blood. My skin crawled at how much I wanted it, how much I needed it. My body ached, shuddered.

I lost it, lost myself.
There are several minutes for which I recall nothing.

Yuu was on the ground, in the mud. I was leaned over him, digging my fingers into the muck, squeezing my eyes shut. There was blood on my chin, in my mouth. It wasn't his, thank God. I had gnawed on my lip. I knew this because I realized I hadn't stopped, realized it hadn't healed yet. I swallowed, raising my hand to cover my mouth, held my breath. I only spoke his name, whispered and hoarse.

I need blood, I almost said.

I didn't.

I will die before I hurt him. That is the only way that could end.

He was fading in and out of consciousness. Barely awake, but staring at me. I didn't think he would stay awake for very long, but his mouth hung open. He blinked several times, moving his gaze to my chin, which was mostly covered by my hand but still visibly covered in blood. He noticed, registered what it was. He used what little strength he had to try and get away from me.

Maybe I shouldn't have stopped him. Maybe that would have been for the best. (But that would have killed him, I knew. He could not survive without my help.)

I whispered his name again, voice shaking on each syllable. Yuuichirou. There were more things that I could have said; I couldn't think of any of them.

He understood, realized it was just me. He stopped struggling, started to stare at me again.

I tried to wipe the blood off my face.

Finally, he asked if I was hurt. If I was hurt. He was dying and he asked about me. He was dying and I could think only of the blood. There was nothing else on my mind; I could barely even recognize that it was him.

I lost myself again; several seconds gone. (Not as much as before, maybe I can get through this, I thought.)

Yuu's fingers were on my chin. He was shaking, maybe shaking more than I was. He must have said my name. Must have. I don't think anything else could have let me regain control so quickly. Now I was the one staring at him, completely frozen.

He's injured.
He's dying.
I have to save him.

I couldn't let him die. (Can't. Never will.)

He moved his thumb across my lip. I had to grit my teeth to keep from biting him. (A devil I must be-- he was trying to be kind and I wanted to hurt him.) I think Yuu asked if I was injured again. I wasn't sure-- I was processing things far too slowly. I only realized he'd said anything the third time he asked. At that moment, everything was spinning; I was too disoriented to give his words much thought without paying more attention to Yuu. But if I paid attention to Yuu, I would have killed him. Of that I had no doubts: too little control, too much time lost, too much blood.

I still had to save him.

But Yuu was testing my restraint with just his bloodied hands near my face. I didn't see how I could save him when I was so close to killing him myself.

I reached for Yuu's fingers -- when had I moved my hands to the mud again? -- and held them tightly between both hands. He asked if I was alright again. I wanted to answer. But even if I'd had the words to say, I don't think I could have. My throat felt raw, like it was burning. My body still ached, still shuddered. Even if I had told him I wasn't alright, I'm not okay, there would be nothing he could do. Nothing he should do. (I won't let him hurt himself for my sake.)

Yuu pulled his fingers out of my grip, placing his hand on the back of my head. He was forceful, like he wanted to pull me closer.

My thoughts were on his neck.

I knew that wasn't what he was doing. There was no reason for him to. He was dying, he was afraid. He didn't want to be alone, I'd thought. Regardless of what Yuu had intended, it made his injury seem much more real at the time. More real to one distracted by their own selfish desires, anyway. It made it feel urgent again, like it should; returned some of the clarity of mind that had vanished with how much he was bleeding. Yuu tried to pull me closer, and I shook my head while biting my lip.

I will save you.

He will live even if it kills me. That was my decision, and is always my decision.

I set to work. Yuu must have lost consciousness; his hand dropped, eyes shut. I barely noticed; I had a goal. I did not know how, I had no plan, no thoughts other than blood and save him, but I would succeed. Failure wasn't an option. I used his coat to stop the bleeding. Tore it into pieces, held it over the wound, secured it in place. I said his name a hundred times, I think, between biting my lips. I don't know if it helped; I didn't care.

(There was so much blood. My hands and forearms were covered with it; my chin was dripping in it. I had completely lost my sense of anything but blood. I saved his life because my body knew the motions; my mind could do almost nothing.)

I knew he needed safety, shelter. Something to protect him because I could not continue much longer. Anything. Anything. He needed to be dry, needed protection from rain. Anything that did that, it would be enough. So I moved him. Stood up, walked ahead of him, took his hands. I couldn't carry him; I dragged him by his arms with his back raised off the ground, because I couldn't stand having his blood so close to me. I must have caused half the injuries he sustained that day, simply because of myself. But I would save him. Cause him more injuries, bring myself into ruin, it didn't matter. As long as he lived, as long as I saved him.

"I will save him" became my new chant, muttered harshly between panting and my own shuddering as I struggled to move his body.

I don't know how I found shelter. My mind was lost, my body still going through the motions. Maybe it was an act of God, maybe I wasn't the only one determined to save him. But there was shelter, Yuu's salvation, and quite frankly I didn't care why. Shelter was an empty house several miles northeast of where we were first discovered. It seemed abandoned; I couldn't tell for how long-- it still had furniture, supplies, things people needed inside, something that has become quite rare in this world. I pulled Yuu inside, letting him down as gently as I could onto the floor (which I fear was not gently at all in my state). I'd succeeded, I'd found him somewhere safe to stay, so now what? I no longer had a clear idea of what to do. I would have been frustrated, but I didn't have the mind for it. I needed to think clearly. He was dying and I didn't know what to do about it!

So I stepped outside, forced myself to take a break and simply breathe because the smell of his blood was suffocating, like it was strangling me and begging me to do something I’ll never be forgiven for. I felt guilty for leaving him alone, but I feared the alternative even more. I just need time. Time to clear my head. Time to work out a plan. I started pacing, running my fingers through my hair and making a bloody mess of myself in the process (yet another thing I didn't care about but perhaps should have). Being away from him was helping; part of me wondered if it would be best just to leave, eliminate the risk I posed, but I didn't think he could survive on his own. But the distance was enough, just for the moment-- I was able to think of a plan, a way to save him and get out, to come back when I wasn't a threat anymore.

I stood in front of the door and took a deep breath. I can do this. I walked inside, kept my head down and refused to look at Yuu and see the blood. I held my breath-- I wasn't sure how long I could last, but I wouldn't risk it until I had to.

My plan: mask the smell, stop the bleeding, leave. For the smell, I tore the curtains off the wall (the first piece of fabric that I saw) and fashioned a mask for myself, finally allowing myself to breathe once I put it on. All I smelled was blood, iron, something that I needed desperately. I knew that I would smell nothing more yet I still allowed it to take me by surprise. I threw my hand over my mouth, turning slowly to look towards Yuu. He was lying in a puddle of his own blood, still unconscious. He's going to bleed out, I thought. I didn't have much time left; I wasn't sure how long I would last, and he certainly didn't have any time to spare. 

I had three primary concerns. The most important was that I had utterly failed to stop the bleeding. (I knew this, but it was worse than I had imagined.) The second was that Yuu's clothing was soaking wet and covered in mud, which was only going to make things worse. Finally, he'd lost consciousness. I could do nothing about that one, but it still weighed on my mind as I approached him. I tried to prepare myself, but the blood was overwhelming as I sat down beside him. I hated it, I caught myself wondering if maybe I should kill him-- it would make me feel better the demonic part of me had thought. I don't think I've ever despised myself more than in that moment.

I realized that I had been sitting there for several minutes, staring and nearly biting my hand (I had just barely enough restraint, enough to avoid having some of the blood, Yuu's blood, that covered my skin and becoming fully turned). I was squeezing the remainder of the curtain in my left hand so hard that my arm had started shaking. I need to do something, I'd thought. I started moving, and it was the same as before; I worked on instinct and muscle memory while I tried not to think about what was right in front of me. I was more careful with him this time-- I pulled off his shirt and boots and threw them to the side to dry (bit my lip because I couldn't stand how much I could still smell through the mask), then replaced my first bandaging attempt with the curtain pieces (did half of it with my eyes shut because I couldn't look at it).

And then I stumbled outside. I couldn't stay in there anymore; there was still so much to do but I couldn't. It still didn't seem possible. But I couldn't waste any time, I had to try even if I thought failure was inevitable. I went in search of water instead of standing around, walked away from the house and listened for a river or stream. I took the mask off once I was farther from the house too-- it smelled too strongly, even so far from him.

I eventually heard running water. Walked to it. Collapsed right in front of it, fell onto my knees. I was panting again, clutching my chest and balling my shirt up in my hands. I've never felt weaker, never. I felt like I would attack anyone that approached me, though I didn't think I had the strength for it. I leaned forward, my forehead sitting in the mud.

I need blood, Yuu.

I couldn't breathe-- my throat was too dry and my chest felt tight. I hugged my arms against my stomach, squeezing my sides as I started coughing.

I needed it so badly that it was killing me.

It seemed to take forever, but when I could breathe again, I took a flask of Krul's blood from my bag. I knew it wouldn't be enough, and it wasn't. It helped me breathe, let me think. But my body still ached, my throat still burned. I rubbed my forehead and took a deep breath. There was nothing more I could do, not without hurting someone and failing myself, failing others, becoming a devil true to his kind. But the flask wasn't useless (though I feared that may be the case soon)-- I felt some of my strength coming back, enough for me to move forward to the water’s edge and start scrubbing my hands in the river. I didn't stop until I had been cleaning them far longer than there had been anything left on them, bloodstained as they were. There was blood on my sleeves, but I rolled them up and washed my arms anyway. I didn’t care that it was futile, that the blood would return to my arms the moment I let my sleeves down-- it was soothing. It was something to do, something that let me forget. It was a distraction from thinking of blood, better than sitting and doing nothing.

I don't know how much time I spent trying to wash the blood away. An hour, maybe more. Despite all my efforts, the thought foremost in my mind was that I need blood, still before Yuu's condition, and it had become too much.

I plunged my head into the water. I don't know what I thought it would do; maybe I thought it would clear my mind like when Yuu jumped in the canal on that first night. Maybe the cold would shock me back to my senses. I didn't care, didn't know. I kept my head underwater for as long as I could hold my breath, trying to get some of the blood and muck out of my hair and clean my face.

I’ve never been more grateful for the feeling of my skin being chilled.

I stayed for as long as I could stand it, but it was my lungs burning now and I gasped for breath when I finally pulled myself out of the water. I stayed leaned over the river, holding my head and breathing heavily. 

I could hear a heartbeat behind me, undeniably human.

A source of fresh, human blood.

I spun around, eyes wide. Prepared my body to spring forward (nearly pushed off the ground, hands ready to grab), only to find Yuu. I’d been ready to attack, felt it, known it in the moment-- if it had been anyone else…

I tried to speak to him. I don't know what I managed to say-- I sputtered through my words, attempting to explain why I had left him alone only to let him find me with my head in a river. I think the only thing I said clearly was "blood" while clutching at the bloodied part of my shirt. And then I stared at him, waiting for him to speak as if anything I'd said had made sense.

I had been too tired, too distracted to realize what he must have done to find me, how long it must have taken (how long had I been sitting there?), how much damage he must have caused himself. I would have scolded him if I'd given it a moment of thought. But I was exhausted, still shaking, and now that he was back the blood was overwhelming again. 

(I always find it strange how quickly my mind becomes cloudy when I need blood, how the only thing that remains clear is anything that might help me get it. At that moment, that meant that my thoughts were once again entirely focused on Yuu's wound and the blood coming from it.) 

"Do you need something?" he asked. I shook my head vigorously. He ignored me, began to reach towards me, so I grabbed his hands (they're covered in blood) and held them still. The scent alone was too much. Blood smelled stronger than it ever had when I was human, especially when there was so much of it. And it was overpowering. There's so much blood. That seemed to be the only thought I was capable of, along with the barest of recognition that it was Yuu that was injured, that was bleeding, and that I had a duty to save him because I was the only one who could. 

I released Yuu's hands and whispered, "I don't need help." Yuu still would not accept this. For several minutes, he demanded that he help and I refused, all the while I tried to forget that he was bleeding and I needed blood. He won, in the end. I accepted his offer to help, as long as I could try once again to stop the bleeding. (Because I knew I wouldn't last much longer if I didn't.) 

We staggered back to the house together; I kept my arm under his to hold him up while he put his arm over my shoulder. We were both weak, far too weak, far too vulnerable. I was shaking, in pain-- I felt like I was on fire I needed blood so badly. He was uncomfortably pale, short of breath, and leaned more heavily on me the farther we got. 

I didn't see how either of us was going to survive this. (He should not be alive.) 

Once we were inside, I helped him settle onto the bed. I forced him sit up straight to try and stem the blood flow, then tightened the bandages. "Don't move," I said, slowly standing from his side. I started gathering supplies from the house: more fabric for new bandages, needle and thread, alcohol, clean rags, a bowl, a bucket. I threw a blanket over the blood from where I'd first left him-- it smelled too strong. I dropped the supplies by the bed, doing my best not to look at him so I wouldn't see, and returned to the river to fill the bucket with water. (Perhaps I should not have left him alone again.)

When I returned to the house, I stopped right in front of the door and put the bucket down at my feet. I was squeezing my hands together, anxious, trembling at the thought of seeing him again, smelling it again. Calm yourself, I thought. Breathe. I didn’t know how many times I could take it. I wanted to save him; I thought I might kill him. I pulled my mask on and reached for the door, but froze again. I don't think I can do it. 

I was scared. It has been a long time since I have been afraid, and at that moment I was most afraid of myself. I needed blood, but I didn’t want to hurt him, and I didn't know which desire was going to win anymore. Damn it, I needed it so much it hurt! Everything still throbbed with pain and I felt dizzy at the thought of seeing the blood again (a strange kind of dizzy that was half weakness and half desire).

I grit my teeth together, looking up towards the sky. There were dark clouds washing out the stars, like it might rain. But it was peaceful, calming. I need to save him, I thought. I put my hands together and held them near my chest. "Please," I whispered. Maybe I should have said more. It was a pathetic request, if an honest one. But I didn't have time to waste on begging for help. There was no reason that a devil’s plea should be heard.

I gathered my things and went inside to Yuu, kneeling beside him. I took the alcohol from the table (vodka, it turned out) and got ready to pour it on one of the rags, then paused. I swirled the bottle, watching the clear liquid inside.

Please help. 

I took several drinks of it, knowing full well I'd come to regret it later. I cringed at the taste and gagged when I tried to swallow, but it didn't matter. It certainly couldn't make things worse, at least, not immediately, and if it did anything to help then it made my future suffering worthwhile. I looked towards Yuu, considered what I was about to do to him, and held out the bottle. "Drink some," I said. His lips curled into a frown, but eventually he reached forward and took the bottle, then did as told.

I turned him onto his back, took a breath, and peeled the bandage off the wound. I started cleaning the wound, covering a rag in the alcohol. I was panicking. I tried not to think about it, but it seemed like blood was all there was and I couldn't escape it. I cannot imagine that Yuu remained silent as I worked, but I heard nothing. At least, noticed nothing. I barely registered that he trembled from my touch, writhed as I washed his skin, only noting it for making my work more difficult. When I had cleaned him, I dropped the needle in the vodka to disinfect it. I would have done the same for the thread, but I feared it would be too weak to close the wound if it was wet. And before I thought better of it, I took another drink. Maybe I could trick my body long enough to finish.

I cleaned my hands with the alcohol. I pinched my nose shut, took a deep breath through my mouth, threaded the needle, started stitching. This was much harder-- there was nothing between my fingers and the blood. It was agonizing; I cannot even begin to describe how I felt. It was warm on my fingers, distinct from the water and vodka, tempting me more than anything else that night. Halfway through stitching I couldn’t take it anymore, closed my eyes and bit my lip (blood staining my mask and defeating the point of wearing it).

It took me several minutes to bring myself to a point where I could work again. When I finally finished stitching, I cleaned it a second time and bandaged it, then turned him over. I repeated this on the other side. Clean. Drink. Stitch. Bandage. I didn't look at his face, I didn't want to see him in pain or distract myself. It didn't take very long to finish, either-- I was determined. I wanted to be able to be near him without losing myself, and I wanted the blood to go away (no, actually, I wanted it, I didn't want it gone at all).

It seemed I was covered in blood again, both his and mine. Do not think about it, I told myself. I took the bottle again -- maybe I should stop -- and held it shakily between both hands. It stung on my raw lips, the taste seeming to burn my tongue, and I didn’t care. I finished it. There had been little left, anyway, and I needed to do something to stop thinking about Yuu's blood. Anything to make it stop.Maybe it was a mistake (no, definitely a mistake), but it seemed to work. I lowered the now empty bottle and set it down, taking off my mask afterwards and looking towards Yuu.

I almost asked him how he felt, but didn't bother. I knew the answer. One look at him and anyone would know; getting a sword through one's chest does not leave many questions on how they feel.

We sat in silence for several more minutes. I could feel myself calming, now that I had dealt with most of the blood. I still didn't feel quite right, and I wasn't sure that I would after everything, but it was better than before. I moved to sit on the bed beside Yuu in order to keep myself farther from the blood, putting us at an equal level. After awhile, Yuu took one of the clean rags and got it wet. He reached for my face, brought his bloodied hands up to my chin, and tried wiping at the blood-- an impossible duty, as I was now biting my lip harder than before and even more blood was dripping down. "I'm sorry," he whispered. (I didn't understand why he’d apologized then, but I think it was because most of the blood was his.)

"You don't need to apologize," I whispered back.

Yuu apologized several more times anyway, continued to try to wipe the blood away even though he was merely replacing it with some of his own (and mine continued dripping). Yuu said something about wanting to protect, to help, because he cared. I only registered some of the words, far too distracted by his hands on my face, but I heard enough to say "I know."

Yuu shook his head, suddenly moving his hands to hold my face. "I don't care whatever it is you're hiding from me, Mika. I don't give a damn. Just let me help you, please. Because I care about you." He held me tighter, digging his fingers into my hair. "I really do." I didn't have time to think over his words, to tell him he was wrong-- that I'm hiding nothing, blatant a lie as it would be. His hands shook like he was nervous and his left index finger curled into a lock of my hair. His cheeks were flushed, and I only had a moment to wonder why.

Yuu leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

It was short, sweet, an act of affection and love, not passion. (Too short, too sweet, I wanted it to last forever.) As quickly as he'd started, he stopped, pulling away and leaving me with my lips parted and stunned. I had hardly even considered what our relationship was, except that it was close, that we were certainly bonded in some form or another. I think I would have spent my entire life thinking that it was the same as when we were children (a stupid thing to think, I realized, we were not children-- many things had changed). What I knew was that I cherished it. I would treasure it. I wanted it again; I would kiss him myself if I must.

"Say something, damn it," he said. He looked away from my face, avoiding my gaze, and turned redder than before.

He loves me. 

That must have been what he'd meant-- there was nothing else it could be, nothing else he could have tried to say, that would have been followed by that. I had been too distracted by the blood to realize what he'd really been saying. But I knew now. I wasn't distracted anymore-- not by blood, anyway. (Actually, I had completely forgotten about it, I was too shocked by Yuu to give anything else any thought, even the thing that was causing me Hell just moments before. A sudden switch that stuns me even now, seems impossible, yet it wasn’t.)

My eyes were wide as I stared at him, eventually stammering, "You love me."

There was a pause, and it seemed that Yuu understood I wasn't going to say anything else. "And you don't..."

I don't love him? That left a bitter taste in my mouth (it's not true! I was realizing).

He seemed upset, and I knew I should say something -- it wasn't true, I do love you -- but my own emotions were a mess too. I didn't have the words; I was still staring at him open-mouthed, replaying his kiss over and over in my mind trying to make sense of it. He loved me. He must, he was so flustered now that he seemed to think that I didn't love him back, hadn't denied my words.

But I did love him. I had realized that much, and I didn't understand it; wasn't sure that I would for quite awhile. Wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't done something. So when Yuu said that he needed a moment and tried to sit up, I stopped him. Put my hand on his chest and gently pushed him down. Initially it was instinct-- he was injured and he shouldn't be moving. But I had also realized that I wasn't done speaking to him yet. I would not let him leave under the impression that he had made a mistake, or that I didn't love him. (If he was so desperate to be alone, then I would leave, I would not allow him to reopen his wound so quickly. But not before I spoke to him.)

"That's... not right," I said, pulling my hand away from him and coming closer. I do love you. The words wouldn't leave my mouth. And now I was the one that was flustered-- my face reddened, I was quickly losing my ability to think about what I was saying. It must have been obvious to Yuu what I wanted to say-- I had already told him he was wrong. But I wanted to speak the words; I wanted the clarity of letting him hear it, leave no room for doubt.

I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against his. I avoided his gaze, still searching for my words; if I'd had a choice, I would have said nothing. I was happy to leave the subject alone to give it more thought, if only because I thought it was perfectly clear that I did care about him, and in much the same way he cared about me. But if there was any chance that Yuu still questioned that, I couldn't let it be. "I didn't mean it like that," I said. I looked straight into his eyes, but I still didn't have the nerve to say it (I think even the tips of my ears were red, then). I took a deep breath, grit my teeth, and sputtered:

"I do love you."

And now that I'd said it, admitted it, recognized it, I smiled. Brightly. As bright as Yuu when I teased him, as bright as when I was a child. It felt like the first time in ages, and for a moment I was at peace and happy. I cupped my hands over his ears, drawing circles in his hair with my thumbs. "I love you," I said again. I laughed for a moment, shut my eyes, and brushed my nose against his. "I won't let anything happen to you," I whispered. "Not again."

I kissed him back. It was short, shorter than his. I was terrified that I'd bite him-- one mistake and I could hurt him, cause him pain and ruin everything. I kissed him with clenched teeth and fingers tightened in his hair. I would risk nothing, not with him. When I stopped, I realized I was cringing. Waiting for something to happen as if I'd done something terrible, afraid that Yuu would react badly (as if he hadn't done the same thing only minutes ago).

But Yuu was beaming. Grinning like an idiot. Of course he didn't care. Why would he? I couldn't come up with a good answer to that question. I leaned my head on his shoulder, moving my hands to the nape of his neck.

"I love you, you idiot." I would never let him doubt that again.

After a few minutes, I moved to sit beside him, keeping my head on his shoulder and my arms wrapped around him. I clung to him, nuzzling my nose against his neck. I fell asleep there, eventually (I was exhausted; I still needed blood). Held him in my grasp until sundown of the next day and didn't wake once.

Nothing worried me that night. I wanted nothing more; for one blissful day, I had everything that I wanted. My only lingering concern was for Yuu's health.

But I wouldn't let that happen again. I will protect Yuu. I swear to it.

So long as I remain with him, I will never let harm come to him again, and I have no desire to be parted once more.

(And I really shouldn't have had the alcohol; shortly after sunset the next night I deeply regretted my decision.)