Archive of Our Own ^beta

       It’s hot. Almost too hot.

       When Yone finally wakes up and blinks the sleep away from his eyes, he immediately notices a warm body pressed up against him. The presence of another person takes him by surprise since the other HEARTSTEEL members know that he keeps his door closed at night. Upon closer look, the body clinging onto him isn’t Ezreal or Kayn or whoever -

       It’s you.

       His room looks a little different. His navy blackout curtains have been replaced with soft ivory ones, and his sheets smell like the shampoo you had raved about a few months prior. Having you in his arms sends a delightful thrill down his spine, and he desperately tries to ignore the way your chest presses against him. Still, he’s a man of integrity, and he can’t enjoy the moment fully, recognizing that you may not even know that you’re sleeping in his bed with him.

       With a fuzzy memory, he could have sworn that you had gone home early last night after the second drink Aphelios had crafted for you in the living room- had something changed? What had happened last night? While he doesn’t remember having much to drink besides a shot of soju, he doesn’t immediately push you away. Instead, he lifts the hand that had been resting on your hip and observes it intently.

       A platinum ring shines on his ring finger- one that he swears had never been there before. It’s weighty and fits him perfectly. With a slow look to your left hand, which rests on his own chest, he notices the same ring on your finger. His heart beats quicker. Could it be? No, that’s impossible. Surely, he would have remembered such a thing…

       Gulping, Yone reluctantly peels himself away from you, hoping that he hadn’t taken advantage of you in the night. Something isn’t right, though. His memories seem to be playing tricks on him, or he must be living through some kind of illusion. With a look in the bathroom mirror, he’s taken aback when he sees a head full of blue and golden hair instead of his usual white hair highlighted with red. His neck is littered in lovebites, and he feels himself growing hot at the implication. Whether it's due to common sense or his own intuition, he immediately knows that this body, even if it may look like his own, may not truly be his.

       With slumber weighing your eyelids down, you don’t seem to have noticed the predicament, and he swears his heart flutters at your drooling face despite the shock. He’s seen this expression exactly once when Alune had dragged you on a random HEARTSTEEL trip designed to “foster bonds between the members,” according to K’Sante. Since that fateful morning, Yone has burned the image into his retinas, and he had never imagined that he would be lucky enough to see it again.

       As he glances back down at your sleeping form, you start to turn and let out a soft sigh until your eyes blearily flicker open. “G’morning, angel,” you slur, blinking slowly.

       Angel? His heart jumps again at the pet name.

       “...Good morning,” he says stiffly.

       “Up so early on a Saturday?” you say, yawning. “Come back to bed. You got home so late last night…”

       Yone has no idea what this body was up to the night before. Impatiently, you pull him back onto the soft mattress and sigh into his collarbones. It feels so wrong, but he doesn’t have the will to deny you. With quivering hands and a reeling mind, he shifts his position to get comfortable on the bed.

       “Come on,” you whisper into his ear. “Why are you so shy today? Didn’t you miss me while you were on tour?”

       On tour? HEARTSTEEL has never been on tour yet- their first one would be coming up in six months. “...Of course I did,” he stammers, feeling horrible for lying straight through his teeth.

       “I bet you thought about me the entire time,” you say sweetly. “Right?”

       His face flushes scarlet. “Yes,” he answers, and this time, it’s not a lie.

       Yone has thought about you- plenty of times, to be honest. These days, you seem to plague his mind, even as he attempts to busy himself with lyrics and his keyboard. Whether it's because of your smile or the way you chew your food slowly or sing along with his bandmates in the car, you’re all he’s been longing for. It’s a secret he wants to take to the grave, but seeing the way your oversized t-shirt reveals your bare shoulder, he might just be tempted to confess it all to you.

       He has to bite back a gasp when you straddle him, grinning wickedly. “So, then you’ve thought about going for our second round, right? You basically fell straight asleep after the first one last night. So unlike you…”

       Your sultry words force his jaw open, and a fire inside him bursts when you press your lips against him. Lips moving in a way that would make even a devil blush in embarrassment, Yone can’t help but lean further into you as his hand slides down your back. It’s so wrong, but… you feel like home.

       Even though the respectable man inside him protests and blushes furiously at the way you rock your hips against his, he is unable to resist you when he catches a glimpse of your matching wedding bands. Realizing that, as your husband in whatever dream or universe this is, he must indulge you. That morning, he lets you have your way as he sends the both of you straight to heaven over and over, and it’s better than anything he’s ever imagined with you.

       Even on the second, third day- for the entire week, Yone learns that you’re much more insatiable with his passions, affections, and love than he had ever expected, but he can’t help but spoil you with pleasure everytime you beg for him. Especially when you look this good in his arms. His heart swells whenever you laugh or cook him a delicious dinner, though you forgot to turn on the rice cooker that night. Still, there’s an ache in his chest when he realizes that this may not truly be him, and you may not truly be his- at least not in the world he’s from.

       On the seventh night, Yone places a tender kiss on your forehead before bidding you a good night, but this time, he awakens in a room next to a shrine instead of a warm bed. His fingers grasp at nothing but air, and something catches in his throat when he doesn’t feel your familiar warmth pressed up against him. Instead, he’s met with a cold room and the smell of incense- a far cry from the familiar shampoo you use. Is this what it feels like to have a broken heart?

       What had happened? With a long stare at himself, he realizes that the same thing has happened. He’s been… transported to yet another different world. It’s strange, being in so many bodies that resemble his but aren’t quite what he’s used to. Still, he’s not the type to get bogged down, so he proceeds forward because that’s all he’s ever known.

       When he’s met with the misty air outside, his heart feels crippled with the loss of you. It’s almost too much to bear- especially when he feels a pressure within his head as a demonic voice cackles at him and his misery. His right arm is glowing bright aqua and pink, and it shifts to a navy hue as he desperately tries to fight away this growing doom. Each gasp forces him closer to surrendering to the whims of this demon, but once he remembers your smile, the inky hue of his arms disappears. 

       It seems that in this world, he’s fighting against a demon, and he has dark horns poking through his pure white hair. The shrine next to his room features a few offerings, but he dares not claim any in fear of what this world could do to him.

       With trembling hands, he finds himself on a winding path that leads to a market. There’s a few coins of change in pocket, and he devours some fried seafood from the center bazaar. When he finally finishes his haphazard meal, he spots you looking at some fruits, and he finds himself standing behind you- like muscle memory.

       It’s a little strange to see you with ears that resemble a feline animal, but he supposes he can’t complain- considering the huge horns on his head. You’re dressed in something that resembles traditional Ionian garb, and he can’t deny just how well the silk fabric clings to you. Like the first time he’s seen you, he can’t help but fall just a little deeper when you turn to smile at him.

       “This one is the freshest,” he mutters, picking out a shiny apple like he had done only a few days ago with you.

       “Yone!” you say, beaming. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. How have you been?”

       For some strange reason, he can’t bring himself to answer you without that same choked feeling in his throat. Instead, he pulls you into his embrace, relishing the feeling of your body against his, once more. If the action surprises you, you don’t say anything about it, only hugging him in return.

       “Come join me for dinner,” you offer kindly. “I was thinking of seeing you again.”

       It takes him less than a heartbeat to agree, and even if you don’t beg for him to kiss you or hold you like you had yesterday, he enjoys the rest of the evening by your side. Your lack of affection for him is a tough pill to swallow, but he concludes that so long as he gets to see you again, he’d settle for this.

       “So? Hunt any azakana lately?” you ask as you take him down a worn road decorated with flowers and traditional Ionian lanterns. “Or did you look for your brother?”

       Yone hesitates, feeling hollow. “Neither…”

       “Huh? Why were you out for so long?” you ask, frowning. “I had knocked on your door earlier- got a ton of offerings this past week, so I wanted to share…”

       He offers you a strained, sorrowful smile. “Just… had some stuff on my mind, Needed to clear my mind,” he answers, wishing desperately that he could take you into his arms just one more time.

       “Hmm… don’t keep me waiting so long next time, then,” you bargain, opening the door to your home.

       Even though the dinner you had cooked for the both of you is delicious, Yone can’t help but think what it had been like when you had cooked him a meal when he was your husband. After the meal, he bids you a good night, biting the inside of his cheek as you merely wave him goodbye without the usual goodbye kiss he had started becoming accustomed to.

       He spends only a night in that universe, and he thanks whatever higher power for that.

       The next morning, he wakes up feeling lighter than usual. There’s no demon trying to devour him from the inside out. The room he’s in looks like a college dorm of some sort, and this time, he’s much younger than usual- perhaps in high school. He has bright fuschia hair that makes him frown in displeasure. It isn’t a color he’d choose for himself. Something akin to a smartphone buzzes on his nightstand, and he sees a message from a contact with your name on it. A red heart lies right after your name, and he gapes at it.

       Even if this universe-jumping, or whatever he could call it, is exhausting, he’s at least glad that you’re in these worlds with him.

       “ yone!! baby, i forgor my jacket at your dorm ysterday can u pls bring it to me when we study for our exam tn? ” the text reads, and he holds back his laughter from your misspelled words. It’s similar to the way you’ve frantically texted him or the HEARTSTEEL group chat, and the familiarity makes his heart swell.

       It takes a while for him to find the library, but when he sees you in a uniform, his frustration with the campus map disappears instantly. Excitedly, you wave him over, and he takes the seat next to you, unable to hold back a soft smile of his own as he sees your familiar gaze and smells that comforting smell of your shampoo once again.

       “You’re usually never this late,” you say, pouting as you open up a few notebooks. “Did something happen?”

       Before getting out some notebooks, he drapes your jacket over your shoulders. “No,” he answers simply. “I got lost in my thoughts thinking about you.”

       “Flirty today, huh?” you tease, but he sees you turn your head away bashfully. He wants to see more.

       While Yone easily passes the exam you’ve both been studying for, you achieve a score that’s about fifteen points lower than his. It’s not necessarily a bad score, but when he sees you complain and pout over the grade, he allows you to take him to a bubble tea store.

       He pays for your drink, and seven copper coins serve as a measly price to see you smile so widely. It’s more than worth the small kiss you place on his burning cheeks.

       “What did I do to land the best boyfriend ever?” you sigh, sipping on your drink.

       Yone only looks at you fondly. “When you’re this cute, it’s only a given that you’d date only the best,” he hums teasingly, genuinely feeling like a teenager in love again.

       “Too true,” you agree easily. “Anyways, I have a question for you.”

       “You always do,” he points out, taking your drink to drink some of the brown sugar milk tea. “What is it?”

       Your cheek rests on your hand. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

       He almost laughs at this irony. “If we aren’t, I’ll change fate. I’ll make it so that we are,” he replies, and he can’t help but feel sincere about this promise of his.

       The next few days, he’s stuck in an arena, practicing with dual swords for some club he’s in. Truthfully, he doesn’t care too much about it, but the way you earnestly cheer him on and bring him a serving of karaage boosts his morale. 

       “I know you’ll do amazing, angel,” you had cooed to him.

       Relishing the way you kiss his cheek in encouragement, he wins the tournament with ease when the time comes. Even despite the roar of the crowd, his eyes land on you as you jump up and down in excitement. In the midst of the crowd, you shine brightly in his eyes, and he has undeniably fallen so hard.

       That night, he takes you on a proper date, and he swears that you’re the angel instead. Well, maybe except when you drop a bite of your dinner straight onto your lap.

       Yone has gotten a little more used to sharing these unique worlds with you, which is why he is utterly crushed when he next wakes up to a world without your companionship. He had figured that it would come at some point, but he hadn’t expected it to feel so devastating.

       This time, his hair is midnight blue- like the color of the sky when it turns to dusk- but fades into a sky blue at the ends. For some reason, he can’t shake off the feeling of phantom wings sprouting from his back, but one look in the mirror proves that he must be overthinking it. He finally spots you a few days later when the two of you run into each other on the road.

       “Excuse me,” you had said curtly when trying to get around him.

       The two of you don’t seem to know each other in this world. You don’t even spare him a second glance, and he has to swallow that lump in his throat when you walk past him without a thought. Though you seem to be living a normal life as a scholar in this new world, your normalcy is short-lived when war breaks out between the gods. His own hands burn with power of both the night and the dawn, and the burden of it weighs him down.

       At first, he doesn’t know what to do with this unyielding responsibility of power. His body flows with an energy he’s never known before. A god of passion and fury strikes the village down and another taunts the villagers with terrors for dreams. While he is unharmed, he has no idea how you’d fare.

       Then, he sees his own brother, Yasuo, who clashes against a god with the power of the dawn. He’s half-tempted to call out, but he doesn’t know how he’d react in this universe. As he struggles with his own thoughts, a boom sounds in the direction you had walked in. 

       Immediately, he thinks of you and your safety. He doesn’t even know where your home is within the village, but he searches the rubble to find you whilst dodging the attacks from both the Beings of Chaos and Beings of Order. Desperately, he pulls buildings apart to look for you.

       Then, he finally finds you collapsed on the ground, a pool of red drenching your body. Gingerly, he takes you in his arms, and with a sob, he realizes that your heart has stilled, and he blames himself for not trying to at least keep you by his side. For the first time in years, Yone cries, silver tears wetting your ashen cheeks.

       Driven by your lifeless form, Yone vows for vengeance. With the other Beings of Chaos and Order, he puts an end to this foolish war, but his victory serves as an empty celebration as he remembers your expressionless face once more. Still, he isn’t sure if this peace has been worth your death in this world. That night, he curses all the gods, curses time and space itself for sending him a world deprived of you.  How cruel.

       For the next day he’s in the world, he makes a promise to both himself and to you. As long as he is around, he’s determined to keep you safe and cherish you- whether you know him or not. He doesn't want to take your life for granted- all he wants is for you to live a happy life, and he’ll be damned if he lets your life slip through his fingers again.

       The next time he’s been driven to a new world, he feels undoubtedly exhausted. The universe jumping has been overwhelming, especially now that he knows that you might not be a companion of his in every single lifetime. Now dressed in a large hat and clothing that hardly covers his abdomen, Yone finds himself succumbing to the demon in his head. Exhausted from the timeline skipping, he lets it win in this universe, and he finds that his thoughts are merged with the demons, with a taste of sorrow. 

       He isn’t sure if this sadness belongs to him or to the demon.

       When the bartender of the Crossroads hands him a mug, on the house, and offers to hear Yone out, the fused half-demon smiles wryly. “What’s with that expression of yours? ” the bartender asks, not looking up from the stack of glasses he’s polishing.

       Yone doesn’t answer at first, but the bartender, kind and gentle, continues. “Something tough must’ve happened t’ya, am I right?” the bartender hums, placing a stack of crispy chips in front of him.

       Yone nods. “Met an angel once,” he says quietly-wistfully. “Different time. Different… world.”

       “Must have meant a lot to you,” the bearded bartender muses thoughtfully.

       Yone agrees silently, gulping the mug’s contents with a single swipe. His drink is bitter, and he feels worn, as if there is no end to the cycling of his remorse. With a final sip, he ponders when this adventure will end- he’s growing quite tired of not waking up in his own bed and even more tired of not being able to settle things with you in his own world.

       “Take it easy,” says a familiar voice. “It ain’t goin’ nowhere. You’ll send yourself into a pine box like that,” you chuckle, and he isn’t sure what to feel when he sees you again.

       “...Right,” he replies slowly, as if stunned in place.

       It doesn’t seem as though you know him in this world- your behavior is a bit more tense in comparison to a few of the other worlds, but he doesn’t mind it. As long as you’re breathing and well, he can’t ask for more.

       You shrug, smiling. “Reckon you’re well armed. Saw you here the other night. Got a lot on your mind?”

       Yone’s heart throbs strangely. “Almost too much.”

       “Did someone break your heart?” you ask teasingly, toying with your own drink.

       “Something like that,” he says, sighing.

       A laugh escapes your lips, and his drinks for the night taste sweeter with you by his side. You make for good company that night, even if he isn’t too fond of the way both of your voices hold a twang of accent. He almost forgets the way you were previously lifeless in his arms, with the way your grin shines bright. It’s mesmerizing, and even if you’re sitting right next to him, he feels this strange homesickness.

       The next few nights, he finds himself by your side again and again, and he feels himself falling harder and harder with every version of you. He hopes you feel the same way, and his wishes are granted when you finally ask him to accompany you home.

       It feels like years have passed since he had last kissed you. Has the last time really been since he was in that world when he had been a teenager? As he ponders these thoughts, his mind comes to a stop when you pull him to a dark alleyway and lean in to kiss him. Your breath, sweetened by whiskey, feels warm against his lips, and he loses himself in your embrace once more.

       Your starved kisses are like the most precious of nectar that he can’t get enough of, and he succumbs to you that night, as if you are a being who had come to devour him. He lets you have him, and that night, he takes you over and over again like a man starved, spurred on by your wanton cries and begs of mercy.

       “Make me yours,” you had begged when the two of you ceased movements. “Forever.”

       Only a few hours pass in that realm, and he collapses on his bed, dizzy from alcohol and your intoxicating fragrance. As always, you fit perfectly in his arms as you bury your face in the spot between his collarbones.. When he wakes up yet again, he braces himself for another soul-tearing world, expecting to see you torn to shreds yet again. 

       The vision doesn’t come. Instead, a bright-haired girl pulls him to his feet.

       “Quit resting! You know we’re going to go on stage soon!” scolds the tanned girl. “It’s your first performance- shouldn’t you be more nervous?”

       Yone blinks in confusion. “What…?”

       The door bursts open to reveal another girl with equally blonde hair. “Did you find him?” chirps the girl, bedazzled in jewels and a flashy outfit. “Yone! Were you napping? At a time like this?” she asks, amused.

       The other girl snorts. “Right? I can hardly believe it. He was so anxious before. Anyways. I have some news. We’re changing the setlist,” she says, handing him a paper of songs.

       After taking the crumbled paper, he realizes that he recognizes all of these songs- they’re all unofficial HEARTSTEEL songs. In fact, he had written them years ago, when he had first started off as a solo DJ. The bold print at the top of paper reads “Sunkissed Summer,” and it takes everything within him not to gasp.

       “I know we haven’t practiced the first few songs much…” trails off the first girl, frowning. “But you can do this, can’t you?”

       Still stunned at the fact that he’s performing at such a well-known festival, Yone nods confidently. Sure, these songs are unreleased, but he has each of them memorized like the back of his hand. They’re what started off his career as a DJ that led him to find the other HEARTSTEEL members.

       The second blonde girl clasps her hands excitedly. “Yes! I’m so excited to finally collab with you both!” she cries, grabbing both the first girl and Yone by the hands.

       Relentless, Yone steps out on the stage and surprisingly revels in the roar of the crowd. It reminds him of his adoring fans back at home. WIth fingers that have perfected his craft, he performs his songs, remembering the time you had found the file containing them within his PC. As he thinks of the way you fumbled over the lyrics, he finishes the set, desperately wanting to seek you out again. 

       “Wow! You two were amazing,” one of the girls says breathlessly when the three artists are finally off the stage. “You think they’ll invite us to perform again next year?”

       He doesn’t bat an eye when the two girls embrace him backstage; however, he finds himself searching for your frantic voice when he hears within the murmurs of other artists and staff members.

       “-Leave me alone! I’m about to go on stage soon,” he had heard you hiss.

       “I’m just asking for your number- that’s it,” chuckles an unfamiliar voice. 

       He swears he sees crimson as you struggle to free your grip from a tattooed, grinning man who grazes his hands against your hips. Ignoring the way his friends gape at him, he marches over to you and shoves the man away from you.

       “Isn't a ‘no’ a good enough answer for you?” Yone nearly spits out, stepping in between you and the man.

       The other person snorts. “Who the hell is this?” he grunts.

       You immediately cling onto Yone, and he does his best not to sigh happily. “This is my boyfriend,” you lie, glaring at the other guy. “Angel, can we go to my dressing room? I need your help deciding on a few accessories before I go out.”

       While he’s about to agree, you don’t even wait for his answer, immediately dragging him to your dressing room while the other man and Yone’s friends gape at the two of you. After pulling you into the room, he realizes that you’re warm to touch and out of breath.

       “Shit, I-I’m sorry to rope you into that,” you say, almost shyly, and he tries not to chuckle. “I didn’t realize someone would hit on me like that, and my staff is all busy with my other bandmates.”

       “It’s alright,” he answers smoothly, admiring the way your hair has been styled differently. This glamorous look suits you quite well. “All that matters is that you’re safe.”

       He doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen and flicker to the side out of embarrassment. “Right,” you say quickly. “Um… I really do have to go out on stage, but… I’m a big fan of your work, Yone. I…”

       Your words are like music to his ears, and he decides that he wants to do himself a favor in this world. “Can I have your number?” he asks easily, wondering where this sudden confidence is coming from. “Maybe we could collaborate one of these days. I’d be happy to compose a piece that suits us.”

       “Yes!” Your response is immediate, and your grin is infectious. “Here it is…” you say, stammering.

       “How about I contact you when the festival is over?” he asks, smiling when you nod fervently.

       As you leave to perform for the festival, Yone immediately makes a note in his phone for himself. He owes himself a huge favor for what he’s done. Even if his heart had been pounding with anxiety, if he missed this chance now, who knows if the two of you would ever meet again in this lifetime?

       After all, he’s determined to make sure that you really are his soulmate in every universe.

       ‘Text this person!’ he writes into his memos app.

       He hopes desperately that his other self is able to carry out this promise.

       Another jump. Another pulling of his flesh. The next world, he feels taken aback from the burning tattoos inked on his body, and they swirl around his skin, never staying too long in one place. He notices that his arms are covered in bandages, and the air smells sterile. Why is he in a clinic?

       “Finally awake, huh?” you say, sitting down on the stool next to his bed. “Those are some crazy injuries. Are they from the Cabal?”

       He doesn’t answer you, still trying to ignore the strange sensation of his tattoos and the aching of his wounds. Just what exactly had this body gone through? You’re dressed in something that resembles a medical uniform, and he studies your form wordlessly. So you’re a doctor in this world…

       Instead of pressing him with further questions, you jot something down. “Patient is nonverbal or unwilling to speak,” you mumble under your breath.

       “I can speak.”

       “Oh?” you ask, lifting your head. “Then, how are we feeling? You’ve been unconscious for the past two days after someone dragged you here. He said he was your brother.”

       Yone perks up in interest. “Yasuo?” he asks, half-stunned. “Where is he?”

       “Is that his name? He said he needed to work and that you’d know where to find him. Anyways, I need to redress your wounds. Can you sit up for me?” you hum, slipping on a pair of gloves.

       He does as he’s asked and winces when you peel the bloody bandages from his arms. Gritting his teeth, he sits still through your careful cleansing of his injuries, shuddering when you wrap and tighten some fresh bandages to secure his wounds.

       “We’ll have to clean them again soon, but you’re the best patient I’ve had all week!” you sigh in relief. “I should give you a prize for that.”

       He still doesn’t completely understand what this world is using him for. “Thank you, doctor,” he says, but he wants nothing more than to take you into his arms once more.

       The next few days, this continues like clockwork. You briefly send him to hell by cleaning and redressing his raw wounds, and he thanks you for your work. He never complains, and you seem to appreciate it, coming by his room more than often to even just chat with them when you aren’t seeing any other patients. 

       “Would it kill you to be still? Surely your wounds still don’t hurt this much- they’ve closed up now,” you sigh, re-wrapping some fresh bandages on his arms.

       He winces. “Yes, but my skin is still sore,” he admits. “I suppose your treatments don’t mesh well with my tattoos.”

       Your fingers drop from the bandages onto the black ink traced on his skin, and Yone’s breath is stagnant for a few brief seconds as he feels your touch trail down his forearm. His heart is beating wildly from your touch, and he hopes that you aren’t able to hear the throbbing of his heart.

       “I wonder what kind of price you paid for these tattoos,” you say softly, in awe.

       He comes to learn that in this world, no one knows his name, even if they know Yasuo’s. It’s an unsettling feeling to know this new information, but you treat him with respect nonetheless. He’s thankful for that- even if you’ve yet to ask him for his name. 

       “It adds to the mystery,” you say when he asks you about the reason for this.

       “But Doctor, what if you end up forgetting about me?” he asks, half-amused when you had announced his discharge.

       You roll your eyes playfully at this. “I don’t think that’s possible,” you answer reassuringly. “But if you want to take precaution, I have been looking for a bodyguard against the Cabal whenever I’m forced to visit the inner city.”

       He can’t help but smile. “And what would I receive as payment?”

       “How about I forget about taking your money for your medical treatments?” you hum, grinning. “And well, I suppose I could treat you to dinner.”

       You drive a hard bargain.

       The next time Yone opens his eyes, there’s that familiar, piercing weight of the demon trying to take over his form. Unlike last time, he refuses to give in, knowing that you might be out there, whether you're waiting for him or if you have yet to meet. Even if the dark, dreary forest seems endless and void of life other than the withered trees, he stays strong- in case you ever need him. His hair, black as night, feels heavy at first, but he realizes that it’s this mask plastered on his face that provides him with this strange sensation.

       The mask hinders his vision, so he attempts to pull it off. It doesn’t budge. Since it seems thoroughly fixed to the upper portion to his face, he doesn’t try ripping it away, and upon a look in a shining puddle of water, he finds a few scars adorning his cheek. Two blades, one glowing red, are strapped to his hips, and he doesn’t know why they feel so comfortable and right- even those he’s given up his kendo lessons in his original world. With a heavy sigh, he pulls himself from the ground and follows a worn path within the forest.

       He thanks all his lucky stars that he resists the urge to give into the howling demon inside him because the road leads him to you, frightened by the monster hovering over your quivering form. Without any hesitation, he strikes the demon down, desperately wanting to keep you safe. The beast falls to the ground with a thud, and he kneels down next to you.

       “You… you saved me?” you whisper, half in fear and half in awe.

       A pang of hurt runs through him when he realizes how terrified you are. He doesn’t blame you, though- not when he has this crimson mask, dripping blades, and bandages wrapped around his arms and torso.

       “Are you hurt?” he asks cautiously, wishing to be tender.

       You shake your head. “No…” you answer quietly, eyes dropped to the ground as you flinch from his hands.

       Discouraged, Yone sheathes his blades. “I will not hurt you,” he promises solemnly. 

       Still, your body trembles under his gaze, and he cannot bear to see you in such a pitiful state. Are you perhaps still scared of him? The thought of frightening you, no matter what he might be able to say, has his heart plummeting to the ground. He wants to assuage your worries, but… he must look like a monster to you with the way his appearance is in this world. With only a simple nod, he turns, his back facing you.

       “I will clear this forest of any more threats. You should go back home,” he says quietly, wishing this horrifying mask isn’t stuck to him.

       Before he walks away, you grab his wrist. “Wait!” you say desperately, pleadingly. “Don’t leave me here by myself. Please.”

       “Are you not frightened by me?” he asks quietly, trying to push the glimmer of hope from his heart. “You’re shaking.”

       “You saved me,” you answer, sniffling. “How could I be scared?”

       He hums, satisfied with your response. While he tries not to seem too excited about your relieved state around him, he can’t help but bring a comforting hand on top of your head. You don’t protest and instead seem to lean into his touch.

       “Then I will take you home,” he vows softly.

       Yone desperately tries not to smile as you practically cling to him the entire way home. The forest, previously dimmed by the night, is illuminated by the full moon, no longer covered by wisps of clouds. In the moonlight, he’s able to see just how exhausted you look- as if you haven’t been sleeping well. Still, you’re as beautiful as you are in every universe he’s seen.

       It feels like ages later when the two of you reach a quiet village. All doors are shut and only a few cottages are lit with candles. When you finish leading him to what he presumes to be your home, you turn to him with those pleading eyes of yours.

       “I… have been having some unpleasant dreams,” you admit softly, clutching your torso. “I know that I’m asking a lot from you, but… could you please stay the night?”

       His breath hitches in his throat. “What a promiscuous request,” he manages to say.

       Eyes wide, you glance up at him. “Ah, no! Not like that! I just think I could sleep better if you could guard my home for the night. You see, I’ve been dreaming of these monsters coming to consume me… and I…”

       You droop, sighing. “No. Forget it. It’s unreasonable for me to ask you of something like this-”

       “I’ll do it,” he says tenderly- for he is as weak to your words as a fly is to honey.

       It’s worth the look of relief and adoration on your face.

       Finally… Finally , he wakes up in his own bed again. This time, there’s no demon gnawing at his mind. No swords except for the kendo swords stored away in his closet. No feeling of his flesh being pulled into another dimension. No blood on his hands, and he wakes up with his usual bleached, white hair and red streaks. The sheets don’t smell of your shampoo, and the sunlight feels warm on his skin as he rests in bed, panting. He knows this will be the last time.

       With a quick check of his phone, he realizes that it’s almost twelve thirty. He had slept for a full eight hours, but he feels as though he’s been run over by at least three trucks and wrung like a wet rag. For the first time in a while, he feels as though he could actually sleep more.

       His door slams open with a boom. “Yone, wake up! It’s not like you to sleep in ‘til noon!” one of his bandmates says, huffing.

       “Let him rest, Kayn. His lights were still on at four in the morning last night,” scolds Ezreal, who yawns. “But we’re ordering some Ionian street food for lunch. What do you want, Yone?”

       Yone sits up in his bed, mind reeling from the events that had happened. Surely, they couldn’t have just been a dream… Your touch, your cries, your blood had felt all too real. But despite the exhaustion, there are no tattoos or scars on his skin. A part of him wonders what this all could have meant. Nevertheless, there’s only one thing on his mind- he has to find you.

       “I’m fine,” he answers hoarsely, as if his voice has been used too much. “I’m going out for lunch.”

       A new voice pipes up. “Oh? Do you have plans?” Sett asks curiously. “K’Sante offered to pay for lunch.”

       “There’s something I need to do,” Yone says quietly, finally slipping out of bed to get ready for the day.

       He ignores the way his bandmates watch him with quiet surprise and doesn’t miss the way they exchange glances with each other. With one look in the mirror, he sees that his face looks rested, even if he feels like he was a ragdoll, thrown around. The water feels cool on his skin, and he can’t stop thinking about you- with whatever had happened, why were you always there?

       Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?

       Yone pauses, the dots of his morning moisturizer unblended on his skin, as your voice rings in his head again. When had you asked that, again? The words resonate with him, and he realizes that even if he did just through all these different, parallel universes…

       This is the only lifetime that matters. And he’s determined to stay with you in this one. Soulmate or not, he knows for sure now that you’re all he wants, and he won’t let this chance get away.

       Mind made up, he finishes getting ready, applying the cologne you had complimented him on once . He never forgot your words, and he never wants to. With a deep breath and coat in his hand, he rings your number.

       “Hello? Yone?”

       “Hey,” he answers breathlessly, heart thumping at the sound of your voice on the other line. “Are you busy? Do you want to meet up for a second?”

       “Hm? No, I’m not. Did something happen? Are you okay, Yone?” you ask, sounding concerned.

       Yone takes a deep breath. “Nothing happened,” he says reassuringly. “I’m just having a boring Saturday. And…” he trails off, wondering if you’d find it weird that he’s seeking you out so urgently.

       Despite the small insecurity bubbling within his chest, he breathes in again, steeling himself. No, he can’t be a coward now- not when he’s made love to you in these different lifetimes. Not when he’s held your lifeless body in his own arms in another lifetime.

        A brief pause. “I want to see you. I’m coming to pick you up,” he says sincerely, and he swears his heart has stopped beating.

       There’s a pause on the other line before you shuffle with your phone. “W-what? Oh, sure. Wait! I have to get ready! You have my address, right? Um, c-call me when you’re here,” you say, as if startled by his bluntness and honesty.

       “I will,” he answers softly, and the two of you hang up.

       When Yone finally parks his car in front of your home, he contemplates his actions, wondering what you’re thinking about. Had he been too straightforward? Too creepy? What if you feel obligated or pressured to spend time with him from his urgent call? Groaning, he runs a hand through his hair, as if to rid himself of these thoughts. 

       It’s unlike him, but he wants to do this right with you this time- for the final time.

       A knock on the passenger side sounds, and he locks eyes with you. You look devastating, and all he can see is your gentle smile through the car window as his gaze focuses solely on you. Trying to contain himself, he steps out of the car and approaches you to open the car door for you.

       “Hey,” he greets, hoping you won’t be able to hear the slight wavering of his voice as he drinks you in with his eyes.

       “Hi, you,” you answer, almost shyly, and it sends his thoughts into a frenzy. “Quite the gentleman today, aren’t you?” you hum as you get into his car.

       “I’m glad you think so,” he says once he’s seated into the driver’s side once more. “Do you want to go eat something?” he asks lamely, cursing himself for not planning anything out and uncharacteristically acting out of impulse.

       You don’t seem to mind; instead, you give him that darling smile of yours once more. “Sashimi?” you ask, suggesting one of his favorites. “I’ll pay. Just got my paycheck.”

       “Don’t you dare,” huffs Yone, backing the car out of the driveway to take you to his favorite place because that’s what you deserve. “I called you out. It’s my treat.”

       Only humming in response, you glance out the car window, and from his peripheral vision, he can see your gaze dart to his face every so often. It makes him nervous as he wonders what you’re thinking about, and a small part of him wants to run away and drop you back off home. He’s a gentleman though, and he’d never do that to you. Instead, he continues his journey to the small restaurant he had once recommended to you. When the two of you finally park in the parking lot, he sees that you’re giving him an expectant gaze, and he can’t help but return it.

       “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out like this,” you muse, unbuckling your seat belt.

       “It’s about time, isn’t it?” he says as bravely as he can.

       This makes you smile again. “Yeah, it is,” you agree.

       Then you place your hand on his forearm. It sends him into a daze, and he doesn’t even remember being seated in a booth. He doesn’t remember ordering any food, but the table is spread with all of his favorite cuts of fish. You waste no time at all as you happily dig into a pearly slice of fish. 

       “Is it good?” he asks, toying with a piece of chutoro nigiri.

       “Better than I expected,” you say through a mouthful, and he rolls his eyes, wiping a dash of soy sauce that had somehow made its way onto your face.

       He wonders what kind of expression he’s making because you immediately avert your gaze, your chopsticks doing nothing to hide the half-grin forming on your lips. The rest of his lunch is finished, and against your protests, he easily pays for the meal. Neither of you want to end this, and so you suggest checking out that new bookstore in the plaza that all the manga enthusiasts congregate in. He can’t seem to deny you as always. The bright afternoon bleeds into dusk, and suddenly, he’s found himself at a bingsoo shop with you. It’s almost astounding the effect you have on him and how easily he’s able to forget about his responsibilities and time when he’s with you.

       “Aren’t you tired, angel?” quips the producer, who smiles fondly as the two of you split a strawberry cheesecake bingsoo. 

       “How could I be?” you say, grinning at his usage of the pet name. “The entire day, it feels like I’ve been your-“ you stop yourself suddenly, eyes widening. “Um, nevermind.”

       He curiously arches an eyebrow. “That you’re my…?”

       When you don’t respond and shift your gaze elsewhere, he just smiles until you finally answer him, “I just… think it’s been fun. I never expected you to spoil me today,” you admit, scooping up another strawberry.

       “Did you dislike it?”

       “No,” you answer softly, a shy smile playing at the corners of your lips.

       Yone takes a deep, shaky breath. “I could spoil you from now on, if you’d like,” he offers, heart pounding.

       Your eyes widen. “But…” Something must have clicked in your brain. “Yone? Wait! Do you mean that you…?”

       “Took you long enough,” he answers, cheeks flushed scarlet. “And if it still isn’t clear enough… I want to be with you. In this lifetime and the next.”

       “And the next?” you say shyly.

       “And all the ones after the next,” he confirms, sincere.

       When you nod in agreement, he feels as though he could soar. Hand in hand, the two of you finish the dessert, but he swears it tastes a little better now that he has you here with him- for both the first and last time.

       Yone wakes up in his own bed the next morning. This time, the sheets smell like your shampoo, and you fit perfectly in his embrace.