Work Text:
Sometimes people wished they could relive a certain memory, feel the same emotions again. Getting proposed to, finishing a good book, fun night with friends. Whatever the memory was, they would do anything to turn back the clock and experience it once again.
Yuuri was in the same boat, but opposite. He couldn't stop reliving a moment. He wished he could, but all efforts to forget it remained futile. Everytime he closed his eyes he saw red.
The memory dated back to almost a month ago. Their forces had been requested by a neighboring country whom they’d made an alliance with. A small army of men was quickly assembled and of course Yuuri wanted to accompany them. Conrad had immediately told him no. But in his slippery, innocent way Yuuri managed to convince him to allow him passage.
He wished he had listened to Conrad.
Of course Yuuri had been positioned nowhere near the battle. Conrad had made sure of that and was obdurately resolute. Yuuri was positioned in a high tower of the country's castle, high enough to watch the two armies. After it was finished (in their victory) he rushed out to help attend to any wounded. By the time he arrived many of the dead had either been covered or taken away, which he was grateful for.
He immediately sought out a certain soldier and made a beeline. Conrad did not look surprised to see him but gave him a displeased expression all the same. "You really should stay in the castle until tomorrow, Yuuri."
Yuuri doesn't respond, too intent on checking the other for even the smallest of scratches. He steps away once he was done. "How am I supposed to heal people from up there?"
Conrad sighs a sigh that speaks defeat. "Don't overwork yourself," he says, knowing arguing would be pointless.
Yuuri gives him a tiny smile before jogging off, almost immediately finding and kneeling over a wounded soldier. He hovers his hand over a long gash across his chest, watching as it slowly mends itself together. As a reward the mans eyes blink open and Yuuri gently informs him where he was and to stay still until someone came by to help him. He then moves on to another man laying nearby.
This cycle continued for awhile. Eventually Yuuri began to tire, his limbs feeling heavy. He makes sure Conrad wasn't watching before bending and healing another soldier. He had already been told sternly to cease using his magic, but Yuuri felt he could still tend to a few more.
Out of nowhere there's sudden shouting. Yuuri pays it little mind. There was all sorts of shouting happening constantly, orders and requests being yelled across the field. Then there's a different kind of shout.
"Yuuri! Watch out!"
Recognizing urgency in the familiar voice, Yuuri's head snaps up. His eyes are immediately met with a man running full sprint directly for him. His hand brandished a dagger, his eyes blown wide with crazed insanity. The dagger lowers and points its tip straight at him.
Yuuri froze. His legs twitched but didn't move. He felt heavy, his body weighted. Vaguely he heard shouts, the sound of people running, but none of them would reach him in time. All he could do was stare at the man, at his inhumanly dilated eyes and his ashy gray face.
Right before the man reached Yuuri, just as he was drawing his arm up to attack, he stops dead in his tracks. It was as if someone had paused him. Looking up, Yuuri saw the cause. An arrow had stabbed clear through his neck. In through the back and out through the front. The soft human flesh meant nothing to the shaft of death. Blood sprayed out in a wide ark from the wound. Red gushed from his nose and drained his life source. The man smashed into the ground with his forehead, a sickening crunch of his nose accompanying. A pool of red quickly formed around him, the man dead before he even hit the ground. And the whole time he fell, his white eyes stared dead into Yuuri's, soulless and white—
Yuuri woke with a shuddering gasp and sat bolt upright in bed. His hand clasped around his neck without any memory of putting it there. He takes several deep breathes, none of them able to fill his lungs properly. There was a deep ache in his gut. He felt sick.
"Yuuri."
A hand gently brushes against his bare shoulder and he jumps. Then his memory comes back to him. "Conrad," he breathes unstably, turning towards the other now also sat up in bed.
"Same dream?"
Yuuri can only nod, chest still heaving. Every time he blinked he saw the red of blood and the white of the mans eyes. Forever and ever staring lifelessly into his...
Light sputters into existence in the room, a candle held in Conrad's hand. He wordlessly sets it on the nightstand before positioning himself to sit directly in front of Yuuri. Brown eyes look him over, eyebrows knitted together in sorrow. "I'm sorry."
Yuuri stares into the gentle eyes, taking comfort in the life and warmness they still held. He gives one last unstable exhale before regaining his normal breath. "It's okay."
It really wasn't. Nighttime wasn't the only time he was plagued by this same flashback. Sometimes it crept into his mind from no where during the middle of the day. He would suddenly return to the present, unaware he had ever left, with tears streaming down his face.
A berserker. That's what the man had been. An emotionless machine fueled by drugs. It had taken over the mans every rational thought and left only one mantra of obsession: kill, kill, kill.
"Would you like a warm drink?"
Warm things helped. Tea, blankets, sunshine, hugs, soft eyes, gentle touches. They carried him away from the feel of cold blood spraying across his face.
Yuuri shakes his head. "I.. I want..."
What did he want? More than anything, that the man was still alive. That he hadn't pushed himself so hard to the point of such vulnerability. He could've gotten out of the way, fought back until someone rescued him. But no—
A gaunt gray face peers at him from the shadows, skin dripping from his face.
Yuuri digs his palms harshly into his eyes. "I want to stop remembering."
Warm arms hold him, attempt to rescue him from his own head. "If I could grant that wish I would in a heartbeat. As it is, I can only offer this."
"It's enough", Yuuri whispers, laying his head on a firm shoulder. Warm. He draws in the warmth, soaks in it, relishes it. "I wish no one had to die ever, good or bad."
Conrad hums, rumbling deep within. He reaches down without breaking the embrace and pulls the covers over Yuuri's lap. "A wish can become reality with enough effort."
"Not a wish like that, not in a world like this. If you don't kill you will be killed. There isn't any way around it." He wasn't bitter, just tired. Tired of healing people just to see another murdered in front of him.
"Now now," Conrad admonishes lightly, bringing color to his voice. "That doesn't sound like the Yuuri I know."
Yuuri sighs, sinking deeper into the embrace. "You're right, it's not. The Yuuri you know—" he stops, unable to continue.
There's a pause in the conversation. Then Conrad speaks up, a whisper of understanding. "You lost a part of yourself that day, didn't you."
He hesitates, then nods. Just as that man lost his life, he lost his innocent filter. The world was not a place where everything could be made right. Bad things happen that can't be stopped. Things can't always be fixed through talking and understanding. Good people die. People lose.
"I lost part of myself the day I killed someone for the first time," Conrad says softly. His voice resonates against Yuuri's head. "I felt as if I didn't know myself. But the part I lost brought newer, stronger parts to me. It's like a wall. When one part breaks, new materials patch it over. That part of the wall is then stronger than the areas around it. Because of that experience, I learned the heaviness of death. I now know it is not merely something that happens and then should be forgotten. It is a large responsibility and even to this day I still do not feel worthy enough to decide who lives and who dies. But sometimes I must."
Yuuri thinks this over. Because he lost part of himself, he gained new and stronger values. Because he saw someone die, the horrific reality of it...
"...I want to ensure no one else ever has to die again." It had already been his wish before, but now he felt a real reason for his cause. His motivation was the tears pouring from his eyes, the shaking of his shoulders, the images playing behind his eyes. No one else should ever have to witness something like that. No one should be subjected to something like that.
He pulls away and speaks it again. There's a firm assurance in his voice, no hint of a waver despite his appearance. "I want to prevent the death of any person, male or female, young or old, Demon or Human." It was his duty.
Conrad gazes into steady black eyes. He smiles assuredly. "I'll stand behind you the entire way."
That night Yuuri finally had a normal dream for the first time in many, many months.