Arin thought that if he didn’t kill this man his memory of his mother would fade. It already had, over time. Someday she would be as far away as a star.
But he couldn’t do it.
He had to do it.
Tell me what you did.
Arin dropped his sword, dropped to his knees, yanked the woven baldric from the fallen man’s shoulder, and used it to make a torniquet to save the person he hated most.
That night, alone in her tent, she thought about the cruel cold of the tundra. Sulfur crumbling in her grip. The panic when her memory had begun to slip. The nighttime drug: soft, dense. The fear of dying far from home. No one would have mourned her. Sorrow: like a marrow in the hollow of a bone.
It had been real. It still was.
But it wasn’t the whole of who she was.
“You could do what the rest of us do.”
She would keep going.
FORGIVENESS, can you imagine? ⟡ part ii (part i)
viktor on social media: posts selfies, travel pics, replies to his fans, career updates, uses his pics of his gold medals as reaction images, screams about his dog and husband constantly. yuuri on social media: posts once a year and it's usually just 'thanks for supporting me i promise not to suck next year', secret accounts specifically for stalking viktor, once responded to a thread about how fans wanted viktor to step on them with "same tbh" under his real name bc drunk yuuri has no chill