Chapter Text
Earned It (Fifty Shades Of Grey) - The Weeknd
You make it look like it's magic (Oh, yeah)
'Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you
I'm never confused
Hey, hey
And I'm so used to bein' used
I
Each thrust of the sword in his body serves as punishment for his sins. Each puncture hurts like hell, the pit he chose to dwell in on his own consideration. The holes poked into his body flowed warm blood. He’d known not to mess with those stronger than him yet he still sought after this winter beauty.
Coveting his senior, also one of the four demonic saints just like him, the Ice Beauty, is a path that could leave him dead just like how he is about to be now, yet he has no regrets. He values strength before all, and the Ice beauty is stronger than him.
“I acknowledge you,” Shidou smiles, his canines sharp.
“Acknowledge me? Hm, you are the one on the ground dying.” An unfamiliar smile forms mockingly on the other's face, he looks down at him cruelly. Shidou can tell it's a smile that's ingenuine, artificial. The ice beauty has never really learned how to give a good smile unless it's based on instinct, when hes happy, and the martial warrior is quite aware of that. Moments when he sees his cute little brother train hard, when he addresses him, when he talks to other people, it makes forms a smile he doesn't even know he has.
“I was right to notice this snow beauty.” He tries to heartily laugh, but he has no air; pain washes over him instead and he grunts. A hint of proudness stemming from his voice.
“Stop calling me that.” Sae snapped, his demeanor shifting slightly in irritation. It’s different from one of his virtues, to stay calm and collected, Shidou notes.
“You’re so mean.~” He teases, even when death is close to sucking his life out.
“This will serve as punishment for daring to hurt my brother.” Sae says coldly, his eyes looking deep into his, in disgust. Ah Rin. The child who only wanted to be acknowledged by the same brother who would betray and fight both the cult and alliance for him.
“Get out of my face, scum.” Rin yells, his face red—livid.
“Rinnieee~~” Shidou calls endearingly, his little martial brother. He runs toward him, attempting to embrace him in a big hug. He’s ultimately pushed away, being stared down with hateful eyes.
“Bastard. Don’t. Ever. Call. Me. That.” His eyes round, one with resentment, not to him mostly, but his world who left him behind.
“Aren’t you gonna talk to your big bro? Hmm?” Shidou questions, his head tilted to the side. He appears puzzled on why it’s so complicated for them to finally reunite. He knows Sae cares about his brother most in the world.
“No. I will crush him, be the best martial warrior in the world.” Rin muttered, his ambition slightly wavering. Shidou can read him like a book, that he wishes to be acknowledged. But he sets that idea aside and goes back to teasing.
“If that's your dream, you have a long way to go. You can’t even beat me in a fight!” Shidou mocks, poking at him profusely. With his wounded pride, Rin shoves Shidou with the best of his ability. Even so, he fails. Shidou doesn’t know that he has taken these moments for granted, it’s one of the last moments he gets with Rin.
Rather than feel much pain from the gaze pointed at him, sharp like a blade, he smiles, he would laugh hysterically if he physically could. He’d never lay a finger on his little brother yet he accuses him as such. But he is aware that the sword saint had gone mad long ago, after his brother’s suicide. To fill in the hollow his brother left, he turned to bloodshed, hunting everyone his brother had hated and put in his suicide note, including him for flirting with his brother.
However, there’s no point in any argument as this version of the snow beauty is unable to listen to reasoning. Thus, he accepts his death. He holds no hatred for the other man who is responsible for his death, but only regards himself as weak.
The last thing he sees before crossing the border between life and death are those pale blue robes running with the breeze. A signature of Itoshi Sae, one of the reasons Shidou calls him a snow beauty. His skin is pale, constantly in the winter shade, the eyes he possesses are misty mint, colored like a lake during summertime. His lashes are long, fluttering in the slight cold wind that forms each time he fights. It’s a trace of his existence.
His art, forming beautiful ice; snowflakes, shards, and snow each movement he makes. The cherry on top, long pink hair that flows gracefully in the wind, amidst the chaos formed by his icy destruction. Even when insane, his techniques are still honed to perfection, meant for efficient killing. He’s well aware of it himself, as his vitals and pressure points had been hit with ease countless times in regular sparring with Sae. But this time, it’s the real deal.
“Damn.” Shidou curses under his breath, leaning weakly on a branch, before his eyes shut for good.
II
Ryuusei Shidou wakes, his eyes opening a little, hearing a middle aged man screaming at him.
“You. Get up now!” He yells. A stick is hitting his arms hard, instinctively, his young body tries ducking for cover. He’s shaking. The great Demonic Fist is trembling under an old man. It’s peculiar. After he’s yanked up by the man, the little boy is dragged into a room. “Work damn brat.” The supposed stick which was actually a broom is thrown at him. “Sweep,” he added.
He can feel the blaring sun peek in, from the open windows. The light blinds his eyes which are unadjusted to its strength. He’s mesmerized, it's warm, much different than the icy terrain he died in. His daze is quickly cut short when he feels a strong glare in his direction, signaling him to work. He shivers at the thought of another beating.
As he gets up and walks away, he can hear the man kiss his teeth and curse. “Tch little bastard.” It’s rude, but he’s not ready to pick a fight with a man twice his size. But isn’t he supposed to be big? He’s the Fist Saint, right? But when he looks at his hands, their frail, calloused but not scarred by countless battles like they formerly were. They’re little, and his arms look beaten and bruised. It reminds him of the days at the tavern, but wait? Isn’t he in here right now?
They say life flashes before one’s eyes during the process of death but he was expecting good memories, not just one. But this dream feels so realistic, like he’s been reborn. Shidou slaps his face, the dirt coming off it, showing how repulsively dirty he is. His face is softer—much fuller. Was he crazy?
The boy has no idea what he’s doing right now. He’s just, sweeping mindlessly, so obediently. It’s not like his nature to do so yet he habitually does it. He wonders if he should just run, don’t come back. But, where? The thought of being caught and beaten further scares his body so much that it shakes violently. The sensation of fear, the fact he’s scared, a feeling he hasn’t felt in such a long time, is present in his body.
His heart is lighter, the burden of the pact he made not present in this body. It’s a relief but he has greater priorities. Sensing his core, he can feel the very little presence he has. Shidou comes to an abrupt conclusion that the strong energy core in his middle dantian is gone; absent from his body like he never made one at all.
“I have no Qi.” He mumbles, a sense of terror washes over him at the idea. He grips the broom tight, typically, if he was in his former state, it’d been crushed at the slightest pressure, yet it’s still sturdy—strong. It’s like the old days, back before he learned martial arts from the cult leader. The poor child lies in a state of shock for a moment before being thrown a towel and water.
“Scrub the floors. Days over.” The man instructs, less furious this time. Shidou was astounded that he had swept till night, working like a dog to even notice that it had been dark. Looking into the water, he sees a younger reflection of himself, one that has not faced deadly battles nor seeks great power, his ambitions much different from his future aspirations.
He’s come to learn that he has went back in time, with his future memories intact.