Chapter Text
No matter who you are, you’ve heard of Victor Nikiforov.
No matter where you’re from, whether you love or hate him, whether it’s in a different tongue or alias, you’ve heard his name before. Perhaps you’ve imagined yourself as him, daydreaming of weaving the world between your fingers and bending it to your liking, or maybe you’re the type to stick up your nose at his blatant disregard for authority. Perhaps you’ve imagined him naked. Don’t be shy, you aren’t the only one.
If you’ve heard his name then you’ve heard the stories that come with it. Was the first one you'd heard told to you as a child, tucked into bed and letting the softly retold tale of when Victor saved a beached blue dragon guide you to sleep? Or maybe you overheard one in an overcrowded bar, where a red faced drunk screamed the thrilling tale of when Victor took out an entire wing of the formidable fae mafia single handedly, in one night. A story about Victor’s adventures is an adventure its own right, each one an exhilarating and white knuckle ride. They crash right up to the border of the impossible and implausible, leaving your head turning and desperate for more.
So yes, you’ve heard of Victor Nikiforov. You’ve heard more than enough about demons and witches, of irremovable spells and living castles. But let me tell you just one more story, a story you’ve never heard before. This is a story about the things you take for granted, and the things you can’t live without. This is the best story about Victor yet.
And it's not even his...
~~~
There isn’t a name for that slot of time between afternoon and evening, when the sun is bright but not quite sinking, when the sky is a shade darker but not a magnificent sunset patterned canvas. Nonetheless, that’s what time it was, in a small break room of a small hot spring villa in a small, small town in the Kingdom of Calmany.
There’s a very subtle magic in this time that is all too easy to miss. For instance, that tiny little break room was washed in a candle glow, the air toasted golden and warm as a bath, yet none of the workers took the time to appreciate it. They were too busy bustling about the cramped space, chattering excitedly, adjusting hats and adorning scarves as they prepared to make leave for the day.
All except one boy. He was nestled in a corner away from the din, back hunched over an unpolished wooden desk that sat directly beneath a small country window. The frilly lace curtains were drawn wide to let light seep through, but the glass was shut tight. Today the entire town seemed to be vibrating, wooden wheels and heeled shoes and horse hooves hammering the streets outside without rest. Needless to say, it had been a loud day, and the boy had never been one to concentrate with loud. The ceaseless static of background noise had left him with a headache, a pile of inn bathrobes covered in holes that still needed to be stitched, and an inordinate amount of time before his concentration inevitably broke once more.
TOOT, TOOOOOOOOOOOOT.
Yuuri hissed and dropped his needle, cradling his pricked finger as he leaned away from the robes, sparing them from miniscule droplets of blood. Ugh, again…? Is it really necessary to run that dreadful thing double time today…? Necessary or not, the floor beneath his feet trembled as the rust red train chugged by yet again. The violently clattering tracks wound most unfortunately around the front the inn, its pipe wheezing hideous black puffs of smoke that billowed outside of Yuuri’s window in thick clouds, effectively killing his main source of light. He sat back in his chair with a sigh.
“Yuuri, dear?”
He craned his head around to look over his shoulder and into the kind face of his mother, who stood over him with a soft and somewhat sad smile. She rubbed soothing circles into his tense back.
“It’s getting late now. You should finish work for the day,” She spoke very carefully, as though her words were dancing over landmines. “You’ve done more than enough, you should get out. Go watch the Soldier’s Parade.”
“I’m fine, mother. I’ve got to finish these up,” he lifted a robe from the pile.
“You’ve already done so much, Yuuri, you really don’t need- “
“I’m fine,” he assured with a light smile. “I don’t care much for the crowds.”
She resigned, stepping back with a sigh. “Alright. But you can stop at any time. You should try going out tonight. Today’s a day for celebration, after all.”
He nodded, his smile dropping once she turned away. The cloud of train smoke had dissipated, finally allowing the sun to seep into the room and illuminate his work once more. He furrowed his brow, pushing his glasses further up his face and pinching his needle firmly between his fingers.
“LOOK! Look! It’s Victor! It’s Victor’s moving castle!”
He dropped his needle again, head whipping towards the window in spite of himself.
In the blink of an eye, Yuuri’s tranquil little corner was crowded with every warm body in the room, pressing uncomfortably against his shoulder blades as they wrestled for a better view. It was lucky he was already there to begin with. If he had been anywhere else, he wouldn’t have even had a whisper of a chance to see through the window through the sea of bobbing heads.
“Where, Minako, where?”
“It’s far away, do you see it? On the very edge of the Waste…”
Yuuri squinted, eyes scanning far over the rooftops and cobblestone roads and into the vast green lands that marked where civilization ended and the unknown began. When his eyes finally caught movement, it was too late; a tiny blot just barely danced across his field of vision before it disappeared in the fog beyond the horizon.
“Aw, it’s gone,” Minako whined, stomping her foot inadvertently over Yuuri’s toes.
“Hiding in the mist, musta spotted our fighter planes and panicked,” Nishigori mused.
“It was so close this time,” Minako hummed. “The last town he went to, in South Haven, did you hear what he did there? He was being chased through their marketplace by a pair of guards, and he turned every piece of fruit in the stands into white doves! It was chaos! Do you think he’ll stop here?”
“Not even he would dare today! Not when the War on Magic has just begun!”
“Never say never, “Yuuko murmured, still staring out the window dreamily. “You can never tell what he’s gonna do next. Did you know that he once saved the High King’s wife from wizard mercenaries?”
“Surely not!”
“It’s true! He fought his own kind and no one knows why!”
“Explains why he’s so comfortable with his castle smack dab in the middle of Calmany. Perhaps he thinks that the High King will be more lenient on him. Still though, what a wild card!”
“Perhaps too wild... Victor’s loyalties are clearly without a home...what if he was the one responsible for the disappearance of the High King’s heir?”
“You may not be far off the mark, considering what he is truly capable of,” Minako wiggled her fingers, face twisted into a dreadful smile. “Did you hear what happened to Marney Hansen’s daughter? They say Victor tore her heart right out!”
“What?! Ew, how creepy. Now I don’t wanna go out…” Mari shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself
“Don’t worry, Mari,” Minako sang, grasping her hand with exaggerated sincerity, “wizards like Victor only prey on the pretty ones!”
They all erupted into laughter, finally backing away from Yuuri’s corner, chattering loudly about wizards and magic and bleeding hearts until the door slammed shut behind them.
Relieved with the quiet, he hummed another quiet sigh and recovered his needle from where it fell to the floor. He tried to immerse himself in his work once more, but there was little in the world that could drive out the seed of Victor’s Moving Castle once it had been imbedded in the brain.
Yuuri couldn’t put his finger on the first time he’d heard his name. It was like he came out of nowhere, slid into their lives in permanent fixture with the most natural of ease. It was a remarkable feat, to be a wizard so highly known and widely discussed in the kingdom of Calmany, a kingdom that had always been conservative in its regards to magic. But with Victor, it was different. He had a magnetic sort of pull, a charm that left you unable to stop talking about him for days.
It was said that he lived in a castle that never stayed still, there one minute and gone the next. He followed nothing but the wind, popping up where he pleased without rhyme or reason, the places he touched never the same when he left. His adventures were addicting, so bold and impossible that they seemed like fiction. But with time it became apparent that nothing was impossible for Victor.
The first time Victor’s castle appeared on the edge of the Waste in their tiny greenbelt village, Yuuri worried that their already meager population would be lost to heart attack. No one shut up about it for days, eyewitnesses were held as prophets while mouths moved miles at the minute. Over the years Victor still popped up every now and again, but he never ventured into town, steering his castle farther into the Waste than anyone dared go. It was about then that the rumors started.
Though Calmany was never famed for viewing wizards in a positive light, the extent that people took gossip regarding Victor was still a little shocking. The most popular working theory was that Victor was a dangerous immortal, driven senile in his unassuming old age. He lurked on the edges of towns so that he could swoop in and steal the hearts of beautiful young people in the night, which he took home and brewed into potions to restore his youthful appearance. And if you ever found yourself unfortunate enough to be in his way, he would curse you and your entire village into oblivion.
These rumors kept a fresh presence in Yuuri’s mind, and he didn’t need to be told twice to stay away from Victor and the Waste. Yet he still couldn’t shake the draw of the wizard, like a tiny invisible hook that was nestled too deep in his mind to yank out. He couldn’t help straining his ears to hear a whisper of his name in the streets, or staring deep into the Waste for minutes on end before he realized what he was doing. He couldn’t say why, but he wasn’t worried either; it didn’t seem like he was the only one. Everyone in town regarded him with a heady and confusing mixture of terror and awe. He was feared, but revered, admired at an arm’s length. No one that Yuuri knew had ever seen his face or approached his castle, but that didn’t stop his stories from floating through their streets like air, a single glimpse of a castle in the distance enough to keep the entire village breathing for months.
I wonder, Yuuri thought, yanking a thread tight, how these people would feel if Victor ends up getting killed. I wonder if they’d be sad...
And yet outside, the crowds in the streets were thickening, the voices rising until even the closed windows couldn’t shut out their excitement. Yuuri sighed yet again. I give up. He got to his feet, brushing dust off his pants with one hand and plopping his simple straw hat on his head with the other. It’s not like I was getting work done anyways.
~~~~
If he thought that it was noisy inside the villa all day, he was not even slightly prepared for the chaos of the outside. Every citizen was out in force, women with powdered noses fanning themselves with propaganda leaflets, men pinning the crest of Calmany to their finest hats. Children dashed along the street with blatant disregard for whomever was in their path, waving flags and clutching confetti bombs. The assault of it all was enough to make him want to recoil back to the safety of the inn, but before he could make a choice in the matter he was swept into the crowd. Helpless to the flow of the current, Yuuri suddenly realized that he had no idea where to go.
The parade was simply not up for discussion. He felt nauseous just imagining being pressed up to strangers like sardines in a can, the noise and the streamers and balloons too much for his senses to handle even in his imagination. He couldn’t go home now; battling the flow of the crowd to make his way back to the inn was a terrifying thought alone, but the notion of returning home even when his mother had told him to go out effectively put a lid on that option.
In the end he settled to see his friend Phichit’s circus show. He’d gone so many times that he knew the whole program by heart, but the list of places that didn’t give Yuuri a headache were unfortunately limited, and Phichit’s place was his only option left. The only issue was that he’d have to take a trolley to get there, which ran through town square.
Gulping a deep breath and mustering up all the resolve he could, he delved into the heart of the horde. His nerves pricked with consistent stabs of discomfort, not a second passing without someone jostling into his shoulder, stepping on his feet, or pushing him to the side.
The trolley station was a nightmare. There was a hideous clog in traffic as people swarmed the trolley like a pack of wolves, fists flying and voices shouting angrily in a brutal battle for seats. Yuuri hung passively to the edge of the crowd and waiting until the departing clang of the trolley bell rang through the air. He hopped on at the last second, the wheels screeching to life almost the moment his foot touched the entrance step. He opted to stay where he was rather than face the bloodbath that was undoubtedly going on the inside the car, clutching onto the pole railing to balance himself and watching the enraged faces that didn’t make it on disappear from sight.
He kept one hand on his head to keep his hat in place as the trolley picked up speed, chugging through the neighborhoods of brick gothic houses with red tile roofs, pots of flowers set on the sills of open windows. A few people leaned out of their houses to wave energetically as they passed. Yuuri waved back shyly at first but opted to ignore them when it started feeling too awkward. At one point they were spotted by a loose dog, who bounded alongside the trolley, barking excitedly as it tried to keep up. It was nearly enough to cure his headache on sight.
Unfortunately the good mood that the dog had put him in didn’t last very long at all, as they soon reached town square. The trolley came to a shuddering halt, the car doors flying open with a violent bang, people flooding out of the car like blood from a wound. Yuuri scrambled out of the way, making room to let the steady stream of keyed up humans empty into the buzzing, hectic sea that was the parade.
“THE HIGH KING’S SON DISAPPEARED WITHOUT A TRACE, AND INTEL SUGGESTS THAT IT WAS THE WORK OF MALICIOUS WITCHES AND WIZARDS!” the tinny voice on the loudspeakers bored holes into Yuuri’s head, turned up to outrageous volumes in order to be heard above the chaos. “LET HIM BE THE FINAL VICTIM OF THESE DEVILS INCARNATE! LET US STOP LIVING IN FEAR FOR ONCE AND FOR ALL!”
“SOLDIERS, MARCH ON!”
The roar of the howling of the crowd peaked like the crest of a wave, marching bands banging to life with a triumphant crash of symbols. Rolling tanks and marching soldiers led the procession while fighter jets swooped low over the rabid swarms, flags bearing the King’s crest streaming from their tails. Yuuri shut his eyes again and tried to ignore the dull pounding of pain that echoed in his ears.
The trolley picked up pace again and calm seeped its way back into Yuuri’s bones, relieved to put the scene behind him. Eventually the bellowing crowds were reduced to a dull and distant hum, and the wide and brightly lit roads narrowing into damp and uneven back alleys. Yuuri abandoned his perch on the trolley without waiting for it to make a full stop, high in spirits despite the newfound cold of his shadowy surroundings. His journey to Phichit’s was one he could make in his sleep, and best of all, he wouldn’t be likely to run into more than two or three people.
The quiet of the back roads did wonders for his headache, with little noise other than the creak of a rusty sign swaying in the wind, or the scurrying of rat feet flying across the damp stone. He traversed the winding roads with the ease of one who had made the journey many a time before, noting the shabby stores he passed with familiarity, feeling a stab of regret that he forgot to bring coins as he passed by a few of the homeless squatters who frequently took shelter beneath the crumbling verandas. As he turned a corner onto a new road, however, his stomach sank to a sight that was out of the ordinary. Tension raced up his spine as two drunken soldiers hobbled down the middle of the street, heading straight his way.
Oh no. Keep it cool.
“Hey, little piglet! You lost?”
Yuuri shook his head firmly and sped up his pace to brush past them. “No, not lost.”
One of the soldiers slammed an arm in Yuuri’s way, causing him to jerk back to avoid his touch. “You know, you’re kinda cute, for a little piggy boy,” the man staggered on the spot, swaying uncomfortably close. He could see every coarse fiber of his thick and unflattering mustache. “What a nice, soft body. You look thirsty, little piggy. You wanna have a drink with me?”
“No, thank you. I have somewhere to be.”
“Hahahaa, turned down again, buddy!” The soldier shoved his friend roughly, nearly sending him toppled to the ground. “I toldja it’s cause of yer ugly ass mustache, why don’tcha trim the dang thing..?”
“H-hey..I like my mustache..”
“Yeah, Yeah. It’s okay, though,” He turned to Yuuri, his glazed eyes melting into something chillingly predatory. “I think the little piglet is even cuter when he’s scared.”
Yuuri’s hands stiffened into fists at his sides, his teeth clenching. Parts of him wanted to scream at them, to tell them to leave him alone or run away, report them to the high guard and let them lose their jobs. But their sneering voices melded into white noise in his ears, his vision turning blank as his mind cramped and bent under the weight of choosing an option, of choosing one quickly. He was frozen on the spot, feeling like a fool as the guard’s laughter only got louder, closer-
“Sorry, gents, he’s with me.”
Heavily jeweled fingers slipped over the curve of his neck, a hand settling gracefully on his shoulder, light as a feather. Yuuri’s chin jerked up so hard that in normal circumstances he would’ve worried he’d get whiplash. As it was, his entire thought process came to a grinding and shell shocked halt as he took in the stranger who was leaning so casually against him.
He had the dress and poise of a man who should’ve been in a royal court, sipping spirits with the country’s most refined and opulent elite, god forbid a dank and off-the-grid back road of a small country town. His rich billowy cotton white shirt tucked into neatly creased trousers and leather boots were the picture of casual class, an illusion shattered by an extravagant suede magenta coat, embroidered with intricate golden designs and tossed loosely across his shoulders like an afterthought. Apparently he didn't even have the time to spare to put his arms through the immaculately tailored sleeves that hung limply at his sides. His jewelry was ridiculous: a pair of precious stones dangling from his ears, many more on his fingers and wrists, glinting light in a way that way just plain rude to the physics of their dark surroundings.
But even all of that held no candle to the dumbfounding beauty of his appearance. Long, silvery blonde hair shimmered like a waterfall mirage down his back, not an iridescent strand out of place. His pale face was inhumanely without a flaw, chiseled, symmetrical, and smooth. His eyes were such an improbable shade of blue that Yuuri couldn’t even bring himself to conjure up something to compare them to.
People like this simply didn’t exist. Yuuri knew it. The two soldiers knew it. That’s why no one moved, staring blankly with mouths agape and eyes wide, like they were waiting for the man to disappear and for everything to go back to normal. But he didn't; he stayed where he was, smiling casually as if the entire situation weren't painfully awkward and as if it wasn't entirely his fault.
Mustache man was the first to come to his senses. “I don't - but we - why don’t you butt out, we’re busy here!”
The man’s smile widened, pearly teeth glinting dangerously. “Is that so? Because it seemed like you were just leaving!”
With a flourish, his hand left Yuuri’s shoulder and raised into the air. With a clap of his palms, the soldiers smushed together, side by side. With a twirl of his pinkie, the soldiers turned hard left, facing in the opposite direction. And finally, as he mimicked walking with two down turned fingers, the soldiers marched off, shouting line drills as they went.
What.
“Don't worry, they won't be bothering you anymore. They're off to rejoin the festivities. Where were you going?”
For a moment Yuuri didn’t even register the question, staring off into the direction that the soldiers had just marched away. His mouth was still hanging open and his eyes had begun to itch from going too long without blinking, desperately trying to work out whether or not his mind was playing tricks on him. When he realized he was being spoken to, and probably expected of an answer, he jolted in the air, face turning beet red.
“I was just - to my - Circus Chulanot.” He stammered.
“A circus! How fun. Shall we go?” The man crooked his arm, extending it to Yuuri in invitation.
Yuuri was positively confounded. Everything was happening in such rapid succession that his mind couldn’t keep up. Had he missed something? Had the man forgotten that they had never met before? That the soldiers were gone, and they could drop the act? Was he being polite? Oh god, had they met before and Yuuri didn’t even realize? Would it be rude to turn him down?
Several more seconds passed with Yuuri standing dumbfounded and silent in the streets, slack-jawed and staring blankly at the man before him. Yet the man didn’t move from his position, arm extended towards Yuuri, his winning smile unflinching and undeterred.
I have to do something. What do I do? I should just turn him down. How should I do it? Would he listen if I told him politely? Should I just turn and run?
What the hell am I doing.
Why the hell am I reaching for his arm?
His hand trembled slightly as it settled in the crook of the extended elbow.
Oh no.
Before he could second guess himself, pull away with a halfhearted apology, he was jerked closer into the man’s side, their bodies pressed together from toe to shoulder. It was too close, way too close, so close that he could feel the man's breath ghosting in his ear.
“I'm being followed. Act completely natural.”
And they started walking.
Yuuri had never felt so unnatural in his life. His joints moved stiffly, limbs feeling as though they belonged to a different body. His head and neck were locked in place yet his eyeballs were darting in every direction. There was someone following them. Who could it be? Yuuri couldn’t even imagine the sorts of people could be following such a bizarre and improbable man. Yuuri didn’t even want to know. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Act natural, act natural. Yuuri’s neck twitched slightly as he fought the urge to look behind him.
Act natural, act natural. Yuuri accidentally kicked a pebble and the noise made him jump a mile in the air.
Act natural, act natural. Yuuri’s eyes wandered over to the stranger he was arm in arm with and locked on. In the back of his mind he was aware that he was probably being rude with the amount of blatant staring he had accomplished in such a short amount of time, but the man didn’t even seem to take notice, eyes forward, perfect smile frozen on his face.
Wait...why am I even doing this?! Who are you?
Yuuri felt sweat prickle in the palm that was clutching the man’s elbow like a vise. In the realm of puzzling things that could explain the puzzling events that were occurring, there was no doubt in Yuuri’s mind that the answer to his million dollar question wouldn’t be a good one. Could he be a wizard, perhaps? Or was Yuuri just being jumpy since it was the start of the War on Magic? After all, he still hadn't made up his mind on whether or not he imagined what happened to the guards. He was almost positive they'd never met before, but he was too scared to ask him to clarify. Maybe he was a lunatic. Was he a criminal? Oh no, was Yuuri aiding a criminal...?
Yuuri was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed the faint sound of dripping.
Black, gelatinous ooze was seeping from the gutter drains, the cracks in the walls, even the grates of the sewers. It was viscous and thick and oily like tar, gurgling as it dribbled to the ground in slightly bubbling puddles. Yuuri realized, with horror, that the substance was creeping with terrifying sentience, defying the laws of nature as it slithered over the uneven roads without slowing down, collecting with obscene squelching noises into large, quaking pools.
When the puddles reached a certain size, the substances starting creeping into the air, unfurling like tendrils of vines. They sludged and stuck and knitted themselves into terrifying humanoid forms with long, drooping limbs that dripped slightly, swaying on the spot as though they couldn’t support the weight of their overlarge, faceless heads. They finally stopped shooting upwards once they loomed over ten feet tall, taking staggering, aborted steps in their direction.
Yuuri tried to choke off a shriek, an unflattering squeal slipping past his lips instead.
“Ah, we’ve been found.” The man murmured, eyes remaining forward and pace picking up. “Looks like you're wanted by association. Sorry.”
The ooze hadn’t stopped gushing from the walls and the monsters seemed to be coming from every direction now, their path ahead getting blocked with twitching puddles and blob creatures, nodding their heads like they were coming out of sleep. Now that they were closer Yuuri could see that they were dressed as bellhops, for whatever reason, complete with ribboned straw hats. The odd juxtaposition did not serve to make them any less terrifying, especially as they seemed to come more to life as the seconds slipped by, zeroing in on the pair like a pack of wolves tracking their prey.
The man yanked Yuuri hard to the right, steering them into a different alleyway that Yuuri hadn’t even noticed.
“Time to run.”
The second they broke out into a sprint the monsters hunched over on all fours, hurtling after them at an alarming pace. They had begun to show what they were truly made of, bouncing off of walls and tumbling directly on their tails, snapping at their ankles with quivering limbs thrown like lassos. The man grabbed Yuuri’s hand to tug him into running even faster, waving his other one in the air. With a crash, all of the used furniture in a pawn shop they'd sprinted past flew straight out of the display window, piling in the middle of the street. The monsters didn’t slow down, colliding with the makeshift barrier in a deafening smash that echoed up and down the alleyway. Many lost their footing, crumbling into pulpy pieces that gyrated among the wreckage, but others collected themselves quickly, persisting after them as if they hadn’t noticed at all.
Yuuri’s heart felt like it was lodged in his throat, adrenaline coursing through his veins like lightning as he stumbled over the slippery stone road, hand in hand with the unorthodox definition of stranger danger. They turned a corner into a new alleyway only to skid on their heels to avoid running smack into a horde of new blob monsters, freshly formed and staggering towards them slowly. The man slashed a hand through the air and a pile of firecrackers assembled out of nowhere at their feet, fuses lit and eating their way closer to detonation in tiny sparks. The man grabbed Yuuri's hand again and dragged him out the way they came, narrowly slipping past the pack that had been managed to catch up with them and sprinting frantically down open road.
BOOM!
The firecrackers exploded behind them, the entire world seeming to shake with the force of it. Buildings trembled where they stood, the rusty shop signs squealing madly as they shook on their hinges. Even the ground seemed to vibrate, Yuuri's feet nearly flying out from under him. Behind them a dazzling display of colored light bloomed and crackled magnificently, hardly visible in the sky that teetered on the edge of non-evening and non-afternoon. If you squinted, you could just barely make out bits of charcoal hued entrails and ribboned straw hats amongst the pretty fireworks, hovering high in the air before crashing back to the ground. Yuuri was so scared that he couldn’t breathe, yet he felt the most bizarre urge to laugh. He wondered if he was going insane.
No more insane than him, Yuuri thought to himself, glancing up at the stranger as they rounded a corner into yet another alleyway. The man’s mouth was cracked into a wide grin, not a drop of sweat or an ounce of worry staining his pretty face, eyes twinkling and still facing unwaveringly forward.
Yuuri followed his gaze.
There was a dead end.
Every muscle in Yuuri’s body froze, coming to a crashing halt that nearly sent the both of them toppling to the ground. The sound of wet gelatin slapping over cobblestone was getting deafeningly closer, and the wall before them was far too high to climb, and he had nowhere to go, no idea what was going to happen to them, no doubt that it wouldn’t be anything good.
Am I going to die?
Without warning Yuuri was yanked out of his thoughts again, the man jerking him backwards by his waist so that they were pressed chest to back, Yuuri facing the front. Was he being used as a shield?! Now he had perfect view of the monsters as they rounded the corner, so close that he could smell the cloying, inexplicably sweet perfume they were emitting, their movements even more sporadic and jerky as if they could smell victory. They all flung their jelly arms at them in unison, Yuuri squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath, bracing himself for what was to come-
All of a sudden Yuuri felt as if all his insides had dropped to his feet, the wind whipping around him from every direction. His ears were popping and his head spun dangerously fast, he tried to gulp in a breath but he found that he couldn’t. With extreme difficulty he managed to open one eye and look to the ground, only to see the road and the monsters and the back alley getting smaller and smaller…
He was in the air.
A scream ripped itself from his lungs, legs kicking desperately for purchase in the open sky. Tears sprung from his eyes, whether from the wind or the shock he didn’t know. He squeezed them shut again, chest heaving in panicked breaths.
“Relax.”
His eyes flew open to find glittering blue ones gazing serenely back at him.
His breath died in his throat, his mouth went slack from shock, and just for a split second Yuuri forgot where he was, forgot what he was panicking about, because in that split second Yuuri realized it was the first time that the man had looked at him in the eyes.
This revelation was followed by several more. They weren't falling. They hovered quite still in the air, gently rocking in time with the slight breeze. The man was still chest to back with him, arms wrapped around him in secure embrace. Warm, soft palms held his hands, raising them slightly as if he was lifting him up. Yuuri’s hat suddenly whipped past them in the wind, and the man’s arm shot out and grabbed it, settling it back on Yuuri’s head before he gripped his hand again with a smile.
“Now then. Just extend your legs and start walking.”
He began to demonstrate, slowly kicking one foot in front of the other. They floated forward slowly, as if the man's efforts weren’t enough to move the two of them alone. Yuuri felt as though his mind had been turned off, his body moving without thought as he shakily joined in, and their speed picked up to a leisurely pace.
They were quite literally strolling through the sky, nonchalant as if they were still in the streets below. Yuuri’s eyes still felt wet and his mouth was still open, his feet scraping over nothing but deep blue, the candle golden sun positively beating against his back. Yuuri had never even imagined how different the world could look from up above, how the sky was a shade darker from left to right, how small that everything below him actually was. He could just barely make out upturned faces, pointing in their direction. He tried to imagine the scene from their perspective, a couple sauntering casually in midair, no idea or explanation for how they got there.
He felt all of his emotions come back to him at once, an immense wash of relief and bewildered delight that rose from his gut, and there was nothing he could do to stop the resulting laughter, pouring from his lips and carried away by the wind.
“You see?” The man hummed, leaning forward to meet Yuuri’s eyes with a grin. “You're a natural!”
Yuuri didn’t trust his voice not to crack and stammer, so he answered with a smile of his own, so wide he felt like his face would split in two. The man’s gaze lingered slightly, eyes bright and curious as they raked over Yuuri’s face. Yuuri felt his heartbeat pick up again, but this time it wasn’t with fear. It was with a feeling he didn't know and couldn't name. With one of their entwined hands, Yuuri raised his arm and led the stranger into a spin, and the responding laughter sounded just like sunlight.
They started to descend, their feet skimming over the rooftops and kicking at chimney smoke. A flock of birds whipped past them like speeding bullets, a few stray feathers spiraling through the air and then dancing away with the breeze. A flagpole came up directly in their path, and it was almost scary how well they mirrored each other without words, both of their feet hitting the hard surface at the same time and kicking off of it to jump even higher.
Eventually Yuuri came to the realization that a building in the distance was getting nearer and nearer, and eventually he recognized it to be the amphitheater that hosted Phichit’s circus. Yuuri felt a pang of sadness so intense that it actually hurt; he didn’t want this to end. At a pace that he felt was far too fast, they came level with the fourth story of the building, in front of one of the balconies that were attached to the backstage rooms. Yuuri touched down gently to the floor while the man perched weightlessly on the railing above him.
The sun had finally started to set, a vivid and beautiful backdrop of fire and magenta suede, perfectly complementing the vivid and beautiful man who stood before it. His silvery hair was lit up like a halo, a slight smile touching his lips as he gazed down at Yuuri with a slightly cocked head. One of Yuuri’s hands was still locked in the man’s grasp, and neither of them moved to let go.
“They’ll still be looking for us, so I’ll lure them away. Avoid going outside for a couple of hours. Can you do that for me?”
Yuuri nodded, smiling shyly and trying to ignore the feeling of blood rushing up to his face.
The man gave one last brilliant smile, bending to brush Yuuri’s knuckles across his lips.
“Until next time, then.”
And he stepped backward off of the railing with a near theatrical flair, his coat flapping gently and hair swirling gracefully through the air as he plummeted below.
Yuuri lurched forward, hands flying out to grasp the railing in a white knuckled grip and bending far over the edge to watch the man go. The usually empty streets in front of the building were lined with upturned and awe struck faces, but Yuuri didn’t even notice, too busy scanning the through the crowd for a flash of silver hair.
But the man was gone.