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He felt it when it happened. It was hard to explain, as most of it was purely instinctual, but if he had to describe it, it felt as if his heart was warming him up from the inside. It was as if a furnace went off from within his body, the pleasant warmth spreading from his chest to his fingertips, to his toes, his lips. It tingled jovially, reminding him of everything good he’d ever felt. Most of which was related to the person responsible for its origins in the first place.

Strong arms lifted himself up from the pool of water, droplets sliding down his toned body. The excitement in him was so overwhelming he had to stand for a second and just breathe. He realized he got a few odd looks from the people around; clearly they were wondering if he had trouble breathing due to just coming out of the water.

Viktor had to break a small smirk at that. He had been swimming years before any of the humans in here were even born, including that crippling old lady he, with his oversensitive hearing, knew just slipped into the water from the shallow part at the opposite end.

It was the excitement that bubbled in him that made it hard to breathe.

Because yes demons did breathe, they had hearts, but everything inside of Viktor was ten times stronger than all of the people in here combined, it wouldn’t crumble with age. Unless tampered with he would continue living, but demons could die, they could be exterminated depending on said death, but sometimes they came back.



He remembered the rage. Depending on the species of demon, that could be a regular, familiar thing, but for Viktor it was new, and only related to one person. See, because all demons were selfish. It was from them the word even originated; their agenda laid with themselves and whoever they considered part of their inner circle, their pack, but not all demons were blood thirsty or hungry for any destruction of humanity.

But that time, Viktor had felt it. The bloodlust, the urge to kill and slaughter and succumb to pure and utter rage.

And he had succumbed to it. He had tore every single slayer to pieces, ripped them open, watched their blood soak the floor underneath him while panting, eyes now red, replacing the usual icy blue he wore with pride. Until he saw him, laying there, eyes wide open in fear and sadness. He had seen the last source of light slip from those chocolate brown, big eyes he loved beyond comprehension.

The rage, the sorrow – it had filled him to the brim.

And then he’d screamed.



He was a beautiful baby, but Viktor wouldn’t have expected anything else. He had watched from the windowsill, sitting there floating whilst using his powers to make sure to stay invisible for human eyes, observing his wailing cries, the excitement still bubbling in him because of how alive he was.

His new parents seemed to be good people, but he doubted they could fill the place of the warm, loving, amazing Katsuki’s. He would remember them. Viktor didn’t know when because he had never observed a demon reincarnation first hand, but he’d heard – read, well, what he could find. It wasn’t easy to locate literature regarding his own ancestry and species anymore, but he’d found some and he would continue to look.

He did know that he would remember everything slowly but surely. He’d never feel like he fit in, just like he hadn’t the first time he was born, and he’d remember him. Remember everything they had, with time. So Viktor was very much aware he had to be patient, had to wait and simply observe from afar, like a guardian angel (how ironic) while he grew up enough to realize, to sense him.

That was another thing Viktor had read. He’d be like a human first, no powers, no inhuman senses, vulnerable; all the more reason for Viktor to stick around. He knew he was also observing for his own selfish reasons, as a demon that was simply his nature, but he wasn’t about to lose his precious beloved a second time.

He would make sure of it.



And so he watched as the baby boy was taken from the Tokyo hospital, and put in a crib at an apartment on the fourth floor. It was strange to see him in that environment, because even if Viktor had never seen him as an infant, what felt even stranger were his surroundings. His love had grown up in a hot spring in the lifetime they met, in Hasetsu. His future life would be so different until he could remember, Viktor could tell.

His parents, although kind, were also fairly busy. His mother was trying to balance a career from home in her office whilst also taking care of the boy. At least he seemed peaceful.

Viktor watched every day, only leaving to eat and attend to his own ‘human’ life when he had to.

He watched him stand up for the first time, watched the chubby arms pull at the table in their living room, and the giggle from the baby’s lips that followed. He watched him take his first steps, wobbly legs adorned by adorable baby fat making their way from the couch to the very table he’d hoisted himself up on for the first time.

His mother was there for it all, his father was not.

For each year Viktor realized his patience was failing him. Many times, the demon instincts had told him to simply take the child. He didn't belong with anyone but him anyway. He was Viktor’s and he would always be Viktor’s. Had been from the moment they mated, one hundred years ago. He had lost him, yes, but that didn’t make him any less his.

Many times he’d been close, his feet ready to push his own body from the windowsill and into the room, folding his arms around his precious light and leave, but he always stopped himself. It wasn’t natural to grow up with your mate like that. What Viktor was doing now was fairly common. Whenever the case was that a mated demon died for so to be reincarnated, their other half would sense them and watch over them until they were fully recovered. However, there was a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

When one had lost ones soul mate, watching over them until they, themselves, remembered was a must. Revealing oneself before time could have consequences and Viktor was not about to mess up the sole reason he had for staying alive. The only reason he had lived without him for fifty long years was because he knew he would come back, had felt it in his core that he wouldn’t go to hell. He would resurface and so Viktor had stayed put.

Sometimes he wondered if it had been simpler if the soul of his beloved had been lost. Then perhaps he could’ve ended his own life and they’d find each other again, but their lives down there wouldn’t be nearly as pleasant as up here. They’d be together, but trapped in a heated world of darkness, which would be acceptable when they’d felt they’d seen what needed to be seen or experienced on Earth, but for now, their demon souls were still young and Viktor wanted to spend as much time as he felt they wanted in the human realm.

His eyes were directed to the baby boy again, who was playing with a poodle plush toy, now four years old, eyes directed at the screen. At ice skating, to be precise. Viktor’s lips quirked up to an excited grin. “You really are my Yuuri,” he whispered softly.

We’ll be together again soon.



Nine-year-old Yuuri didn’t have any friends at school. Viktor watched, heart tight in his chest with concern and anger directed at the humans surrounding his beloved. They couldn’t see how special he was, how wonderful and amazing, and kind – so very kind – his Yuuri was to everyone around him. It was almost torment to keep waiting, watching. Especially to see his little pork cutlet bowl reduced to shallow opinions regarding his chubby body.

His anger was hard to control at these times when he observed Yuuri at school. His mate had struggled with self-confidence for a long time before they’d met and Viktor had pulled out the happy, quirky, confident, hell, sexy side of his Yuuri that had been suppressed due to solitude and bullying over the years.

Since Yuuri had been a demon born of human parents – not strictly a rarity, but also not common – he hadn’t been aware of his own capabilities before Viktor had sensed him and revealed everything the young demon hadn’t known he was a part of. Yuuri had been thirteen years old and Viktor had been sixteen; and he still remembered it all vividly. The amazement in Yuuri’s big eyes when Viktor had made an ice sculpture in front of him out of thin hair, with just a flick of his wrists had been one of his favourites.

It was probably due to his pride, but he had always wanted to impress Yuuri after that, wanted to be one he could look to for guidance. And every hour they’d spent together, exploring powers and abilities, had caused their connection to grow. Viktor had of course suspected their souls were attached after the first time speaking to Yuuri, because there had to be a reason he had found him and felt connected to him in the first place, but Yuuri still being a thirteen year old child and Viktor being a teenager prevented him from bringing up the subject before two years together had passed.

Fifteen-year-old Yuuri had quivered as he held onto Viktor’s sweater, looking up at him as he whispered he thought he had a crush on him, tried to explain to Viktor the way his soul and body was responding to him. The then eighteen-year-old had smiled warmly, wrapping his arms around Yuuri and bringing him close as he whispered: “All that you feel, I feel too.”

It was their first kiss.



Yuuri was lonely due to his problems at school and although Viktor knew he still couldn’t meddle, he may have been the reason why a poodle pup was found by the dark haired boy on his way home from his skating lesson. It truly seemed things went a bit better for Yuuri after that with a cuddly friend he could talk and play with, but merely two years later, at age eleven, Viktor could tell something was happening.

The boy would frown more often as if he was feeling something he couldn’t explain. He felt more alienated than usual at school, falling into an even heavier solitude, which was ironic seeing as now that the baby fat had been reduced and Yuuri spent most of his time skating, his weight had dropped, making him more “acceptable” to his peers.

Viktor was almost glad Yuuri still kept himself secluded. He didn’t need shallow friendships and besides, all the humans surrounding him would die while he lived on with Viktor.

Rather, it was the fact that Viktor still had to keep his own distance that frustrated him. Oh how he itched to talk to Yuuri, tell him that he’d watched over him since he knew he’d come back, have him say his name because he remembered. Remembered that they were mates, remembered that they’d been torn apart by human demon slayers before they could properly settle or have an official “human marriage.” That Yuuri had been taken away from him before they could have their first child, their own family.

Anger bubbled up again like a can of boiling water. He sneered, fingers tightening at the rail of the ice rink that Yuuri was circling in. He was getting so good, and Viktor was so proud, but it still didn’t make up for all he’d lost, all that had been taken from him, from Yuuri who had to re-live a life he hadn’t asked for.

It didn’t matter that he got angry, however. He’d killed every last one of them, hunted down the man who’d given the order to go for Yuuri and himself, and all people related to him. He’d gotten rid of anyone who had anything to do with his mate’s death, brutally and slow because Viktor had time, oh he had time to execute torturous murder for the people who had taken away his sunshine. He didn’t have a single regretful thought in his body.

Except perhaps he’d killed them all so fast. He should’ve saved some, because after a year they were gone and he had many more years alone with no agenda.

Except preparing for the day Yuuri would return to him.

Said boy suddenly stopped. The eleven year old was the only one in the rink since his class and teacher had left an hour ago. Viktor heard the skates scraping as Yuuri slowed down, and then looked up.

Their eyes met. For the first time since he lost him Viktor directly looked into those eyes and felt them staring back. They were curious and even if it may be early there was a flicker of… recognition. It filled Viktor with a spark he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Hope, happiness, thrill – all in one.

He hadn’t turned himself visible for the human eye.

Which meant…

“Who… are you…?” Yuuri seemed to be struggling, but one word escaped afterwards that made all lingering anger in Viktor evaporate in an instant; it was replaced with pure and utter joy.

“V… Viktor?”