Author's Notes: I feel like I should rename this fic into "Victor Never Catches a Break" lol. We finally have the Western hunters showing off some skills, a little more on Christophe as a hunter, and lots more Seung-gil. Also: plot, plot, and more plot.
Please enjoy, and as always, let me know your thoughts!
FROM: Priest?
[Come by my office at 5PM.]
FROM: Priest?
[It concerns Gumiho.]
"Here."
Victor looks up from the wad of charms offered to him, eyebrows raised. "What are these for?"
Seung-gil shakes the wad impatiently. "Seals for your protection, obviously."
"Yuuri has charms at home."
"Yuuri's charms aren't strong enough. Not against his fox."
Sudden, irrational anger swirls through Victor.
He had responded to Seung-gil's cryptic text by showing up at the curator's office as requested, lying once more to his angel about a shoot, only to receive objects created specifically to combat the very person he was hoping to protect.
What would Yuuri think if he carried charms around?
Victor pushes the seals aside. "Shouldn't you be trying to help Yuuri, not find ways to defend against him?"
Seung-gil's expression twists into a scowl. "Until we find some way to help Yuuri, defending ourselves is the only thing we can do. Especially with Murase helming some insidious plan."
"If we show Yuuri how much we trust him – "
"This isn't some trashy Hollywood movie where a White man swoops in to rescue the poor, helpless Asian with the power of love," Seung-gil counters, eyes rolling.
Victor frowns. "That's not what I meant."
Snorting, the curator crosses his arms. "Wax lyrical all you want about trust and love, but such idealistic nonsense means zilch in the face of a vicious fox youkai. Even an optimistic fool like Chulanont has come to terms with his obligations, so what's your excuse?"
Obligations?
"Really, Seung-gil," Phichit laughs at the table where he's lounging, waiting for the curator to return to their colorful card game, "Can't you compliment a guy without turning it into an insult?"
"Who said it was a compliment?"
"What's this about obligations?" Victor demands aloud, but Phichit nods at the charms in Seung-gil's hand, blatantly disregarding his question.
"Think about it this way," the Yaksha suggests, leaning far enough for his chair to tilt precariously on two legs, "How do you think Yuuri would feel if he came back from a youkai black-out and found your blood on his hands?"
Victor pauses, anger evaporating. It would tear Yuuri apart to find out he'd injured anyone, much less his idol, his mate, even unconsciously marked, and Victor's stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought of his angel in pain.
Phichit nods knowingly, "Yeah, that'd hurt him way more than those charms ever would." The chair drops back down, legs banging against the ground; Victor flinches at the noise. "Unless you're strong enough to hold your own with the youkai, take the seals," the Thai says solemnly.
Unless you're strong enough…
The gears in Victor's head spin, whirring rapidly.
Phichit once said that he'd do whatever it takes for Yuuri. Well, so could he.
"If I'm strong enough, then – "
Seung-gil lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, hunter, what a sense of humor."
Victor quickly suppresses a twinge of indignation. "Chris and I have hunted all manners of demons," he retorts. "I've also gone on missions here."
"With Gumiho leading the charge, no doubt," Seung-gil scoffs.
Damn.
Much as Victor hates to admit it, the curator is right; he tends to take a backseat with Phichit in missions, stepping in only when Yuuri's in need of backup. With low ranked youkai, Yuuri is practically a one-man powerhouse, exterminating their targets without breaking a sweat. (Sometimes, Victor feels more like a student on a field trip than a combatant, present only to observe Yuuri in action – not that he will ever complain about the chance to see his beautiful angel in battle.)
Perhaps it's time to show the West-hating curator-slash-priest just how skilled a hunter truly can be.
"Give me missions," Victor says fiercely. "So I can become stronger for Yuuri."
"Uh," says Phichit, blanching, rising from his seat, "I don't think – "
"It just so happens that I do have one at hand," Seung-gil cuts in, stepping in front of Phichit, smirking – as if he's been waiting to hear those very words. Vaguely, Victor can't help the suspicion that he has been craftily manipulated somehow. "I think you'll find it quite educational."
"What rank is it?" Victor asks, ignoring Phichit's frantic gestures, mouthing abort, abort in the back.
"You only get the details if you accept the mission." Seung-gil's smirk spreads, dark eyes glimmering under the dim lighting. "So are you in, or are you out?"
"In," says Victor, straightening to full height.
"Yuuri's so going to kill you, Seung-gil," Phichit mutters.
"I live but to serve my divine masters," the curator says, looking entirely too pleased.
Yuuri's in his leather wear, sans coat, which gives a breathtaking view of his round thighs and firm behind. He has chosen to forego the coat, citing the reason that Kenjiro would have an easier time following the proper stances with a more visible bodyline – and, ah, what a line it is.
Seated on the floor chair next to Victor, Kenjiro clearly has the same thought – damn filthy kid – a line of drool running down the side of his mouth. The teenager says something bright and happy, to which Yuuri responds with an embarrassed laugh.
"You look so good in that outfit," the translator device says mechanically.
"Must you have that out, Victor?" Yuuri says, staring at the device on the coffee table. "I can easily translate for you while I'm around."
"It saves time," Victor says cheerily, just as the device translates their words into Japanese.
Kenjiro nods in agreement. "Oh, yes, I think it's convenient too," the device repeats.
"So what's the agenda for today?" Victor asks.
"Warm-up, bit of aikido, some parkour moves, then meditation." Yuuri smiles at Kenjiro, who brightens like a 200-watt light bulb. "Though Minami-kun seems most interested in the parkour stuff."
Sighing, Kenjiro clasps his hands to his chin. "I think it's so cool how you jump and flip around like an acrobat when you fight," the device chimes.
Mentally, Victor makes Yuri's patented barfing noises.
"It is so weird hearing compliments twice in different languages," Yuuri flushes, rubbing at the back of his neck. The contour of his biceps deepens with the movement, and Victor wishes Yuuri would just forego his coat for every mission. "What are your plans for tonight, Victor?"
"TV," Victor lies smoothly. "I might be able to understand the variety shows now thanks to this handy little machine."
"All right," Yuuri laughs. "Have fun, I'll see you later tonight."
Kenjiro says something in greeting, waving vigorously as he follows Yuuri to the entranceway. "Enjoy your TV shows," the device says.
Grinning, Victor whips out his cellphone.
TO: Swiss
[Any plans tonight?]
FROM: Swiss
[Why, is Yuuri busy with his student?]
TO: Swiss
[I've got a mission. Just us.]
FROM: Swiss
[Yep, Yuuri's busy with his student.]
TO: Swiss
[Ass.]
FROM: Swiss
[… is what you'd be eating if Yuuri weren't busy with his student.]
TO: Swiss
[Just. Meet me at the train station in half an hour.]
FROM: Swiss
[Sure thing, chief.]
Squinting into the darkness, Christophe cocks his shotgun, cigarette smoke wafting into the air. "And so we're here, traipsing around temple grounds for an S-ranked youkai, because you don't want Yuuri to think you've lost your faith in him?"
"Bingo," Victor beams, stringing an arrow to his bow.
"I had to pick a foolish romantic as my hunting partner," Christophe chuckles.
Their target has been listed as a dangerous opponent, having slain a good number of exterminators since its sighting. An absence of survivors also meant a severe lack of information on the youkai, with barely any descriptions of its physical appearance or abilities. In other words, not only are they going into the mission blind, but they're also about to face one incredibly powerful youkai.
No wonder Phichit was so against Victor's acceptance of the mission; he must have heard the reports from Seung-gil beforehand.
"We'll be fine," Victor says as they stalk past a stone statue of some temple guardian. He keeps an ear out for sounds, bow arm tensed and ready for action. "Our teamwork is exceptional."
"Yeah, with demons." Christophe glances over at Victor. "Japanese youkai, on the other hand… we've never hunted them alone before."
"We'll be fine."
"You said that already."
"So stop making me say it," Victor sighs.
There's no hiding it: they're nervous. The youkai they've encountered have ranged from animals and humanoids, to strange, shadowy creatures with no shape or form. Unlike the case for demons, books on youkai don't exist, and none of the exterminators seem to have a solid grasp on each type or even the myriads of abilities youkai possess. There are many seems to be the overall consensus, which isn't particularly helpful when embarking on a mission with zero knowledge of their youkai target.
It means they could run into virtually anything on that wide spectrum.
(Bloody Seung-gil.)
"Onto a more lighthearted topic then," Christophe says softly. "What'd you tell your lover boy?"
"Nothing. I simply snuck out after he left for his training session with Kenjiro."
Christophe exhales smoke through his nostrils, chortling. "You're in trouble when you get home."
Victor's about to reply that it's all worth it, when he hears it – footsteps, clicking against the stone path of the temple, heading in their direction. Christophe hears it too; the Swiss has swung the shotgun to a firing position, spitting out his cigarette and crushing the embers with a heavy army boot in one swift motion.
At Victor's nod, they break apart to take cover behind the row of stone lanterns lining the path.
As the footsteps draw nearer, Victor inhales deeply, centering the rush of adrenaline on improving his aim. He waits, pulling the bowstring taut –
"Well," says a familiar voice.
"Looks like trouble found you," Christophe murmurs, just as Victor's bow slackens in disbelief.
Stepping out of the shadows is the figure of none other than his angel – coat on, weapon in hand.
"Victor Nikiforov," Yuuri growls, gold eyes narrowed into small slits. "You have some explaining to do."
Yuuri's angry.
Not exasperated, frustrated, or vaguely irritated – full on, red-hot, furious.
Victor has no clue how to handle an angry Yuuri, especially because he never thought his gentle angel was capable of such an emotion.
For better or for worse, Yuuri seems to express his rage by giving the silent treatment, so Victor decides to give him space and use the time to figure how best to pacify the other man.
Right now, his angel is striding on ahead, after curtly revealing that he had stumbled across something relevant to the mission during his search for them. Victor trails behind wordlessly, feeling like a dog that's been admonished by its owner for peeing on the couch cushions.
"How'd he find us?" Christophe whispers in his ear.
"Seung-gil," Yuuri says without looking back. "I called him the minute I came back to an empty apartment."
Victor winces, while Christophe flashes a sheepish look, "Ah, right, youkai hearing."
"Yuuri," the Russian tries, "I didn't want you to worry - "
"Too late for that," Yuuri says wryly, and Victor feels his insides curl and shrivel into a ball of guilt.
They continue the rest of their walk in silence, with his Swiss partner lighting up a new cigarette along the way. The tension is probably driving Christophe into an anxious nicotine withdrawal; honestly, Victor could do with a cigarette himself.
Everything about this mission is shot to hell.
Yuuri's fury aside, he's supposed to be completing this mission without the exterminator. How can he possibly get any stronger for Yuuri, if the man in question is there to fight his battles every time?
And voicing that out at this point feels riskier than the actual mission at hand.
They traverse the temple grounds, dark and eerily quiet, lit only by the red glow of the occasional stone lantern. Passing the main hall, they soon follow Yuuri into a smaller building, entering a large room with Japanese paintings on the walls.
"Is this it?" Christophe flings his cigarette to the side, shouldering his shotgun. "What'd you find that's relevant to our target?"
Silent and still, Yuuri stands with his back to them, seemingly staring at something beyond their perception.
Then, his head lifts, soft giggles filling the air, and Victor feels every hair on his body stand on end.
The voice unmistakably belongs to Yuuri, but his angel's laugh is comforting, like raindrops rolling gently down a windowpane. This laugh is high and chilling, grating shrilly against a metal plate.
"Ah, please forgive my excitement, I've never met Western hunters before."
"What," says Christophe, just as the door behind them slams shut, the sound of a lock sliding in place.
Yuuri turns then. His face – the sweet, warm features that Victor knows and love – blurs into something sharp, something hideous. There's a glimpse of a gaping mouth and glistening fangs, seconds before the illusion snaps back, and it's Yuuri again, smiling, golden irises blown wide.
"I've never tasted them, either," giggles not-Yuuri.
And then he strikes.
It's a shape-shifter; that much is clear.
Why, where, and how the creature knew about their mission, knew to take Yuuri's form, are questions that they'll have to set aside for later.
The real problem is that, though the youkai doesn't possess Yuuri's speed or agility, it's so brilliant in its emulation of the Japanese man that the imitation is perfect right down to Yuuri's unique weapon and fighting style.
Victor can't focus – can't fight back – not when it's his angel bearing down on him, swinging the sansetsukon with killing intent – his hesitation playing right into the youkai's plans. The creature's attack on him is relentless; it knows the effect its appearance has on him, taking wicked delight in seeing the desperation in Victor's eyes.
It's moments like these that Victor is grateful for Christophe's cold, unfeeling heart. The Swiss hunter isn't burdened by such moral dissonances; a demon is a demon – he doesn't even hold back in possession cases, nearly maiming the body of an innocent victim in a previous assignment.
Now, he's shooting without qualm, bullets ricocheting off the walls and floor.
"Chris, stop," not-Yuuri screeches in rage, but the blond doesn't stop, doesn't waver.
Given youkai's unfamiliarity with guns and the enclosed space, it's only a matter of time before those bullets finally tear through its mark, but the scream that rings out is so distinctly Yuuri's that Victor suddenly finds it hard to breathe.
"Victor," Christophe roars, tossing his shotgun and ripping out the rifle strapped to his back, "Get your head in the game! That's not Yuuri!"
Victor's teeth clack together in frustration, gritting them hard enough to hurt. He knows it's not Yuuri; his mind is more than cognizant of the fact. But his heart – his heart –
Clutching at its bleeding arm – it's not healing, Victor notes darkly – not-Yuuri lunges at him again. Victor side steps the attack and swiftly fires arrows in rapid succession, blessed tips slamming the youkai against the wall behind, pinning the creature to the hard wood.
Anguished screams echo thickly through the room, rending his soul to pieces, but no, damn it, it isn't Yuuri.
"The wretched creature's weak without its blasted mind games," Christophe spits, sliding his rifle back into its strap. "Kill it and let's go."
Nodding, Victor notches an arrow to his bow and points it towards the youkai's temple.
"Please," not-Yuuri pleads, eyes wide and terrified.
Victor's breath hitches, hand trembling.
"Vic," Christophe mutters. "Don't listen to it, don't – "
"Vitya, please don't hurt me," Yuuri cries, and oh god, what is he doing, what is he doing to his angel –
"Victor," Christophe yells, and Victor snaps back to reality, shifting away, but not fast enough.
There's a spark of pain, sharp and sudden, and Yuuri's looking up at him – no, not Yuuri, not with that beautiful face contorted into a maniacal grin, or the blade of the sansetsukon rammed clear through his shoulder, coated with his blood.
"Almost," the youkai cackles, and Victor knows he's going to hear that laugh in his nightmares, "Almost got your hea—"
Christophe, with a startling vehemence, rams a pistol into the open mouth - not Yuuri's, Victor reminds himself, bile and horror rising up his throat - and opens fire.
Finally, finally, the creature morphs into its original form: a black, misshaped being with a large mouth for its face, before it dissipates into white lights, floating up to the ceiling.
Knees giving way in relief, Victor slumps forward into Christophe.
"Can't believe I let that creature ruin my best jacket," Victor laughs weakly.
"Armani's overrated anyway," Christophe jokes. Shedding his jacket, he tugs off his white singlet to rip it apart with his teeth, before wrapping strips of fabric tightly round Victor's wound. They've been at this job for so long, improvising first-aid comes naturally to them. "You owe me a new shirt, my friend."
"Oh, I owe you far more than a shirt," Victor states as they start to make their way out of the building, leaning on Christophe for support.
"I'll think of something," Christophe winks. "So, want to call uppity priest guy, or shall I?"
"I'll do it."
Four missed calls from his angel, Victor notes with a small smile, before looking up Seung-gil's number.
The curator picks up on the fifth ring – likely on purpose, the frosty bastard. He listens mutely to Victor's verbal report of the mission, before making a somewhat disgruntled noise. "So you succeeded."
"So I did."
"Hm," Seung-gil grunts. "And what have you learned?"
"What have I learned?" Victor's eyebrows furrow, turning to Christophe. The Swiss shrugs, shaking his head. "That youkai are indeed varied and unpredictable?"
A sigh of exasperation follows. "What you faced was a youkai with psychic and shape shifting abilities; a temple guardian that granted the wishes of worshippers, before greed and ugly desires tainted its soul. It used its psychic abilities to grasp Yuuri's form – your greatest weakness. You're lucky you have a partner with a strong mind, or you wouldn't be talking to me right now."
"Wait," Victor's grip on his cellphone tightens, "You knew its abilities?"
"What I know or didn't know is of no matter now," Seung-gil huffs. "What, have, you, learned?"
"Besides the fact that you could've had us killed, not much."
"Must you be so obtuse to fine subtleties? Look, I chose this particular mission as a test." Victor inhales, , irritation spiking, while Seung-gil carries on. "Chulanont performed fairly well on his, I have to admit."
"Why would you – "
"If Gumiho turns into full youkai, his corrupted form will lose all humanity and he'll be nothing more than a man-slaughtering beast," Seung-gil interrupts sharply. "So this is my question to you, hunter, having so stubbornly refused to carry the seals that would banish Yuuri's fox. When the time comes, when the situation calls for it—"
"— can you kill Yuuri Katsuki?"
"Hey." Victor blinks, eyes flickering to Christophe. He turns his gaze back to the door; when did they arrive at his apartment? "You okay? That's some heavy shit the priest put you through."
"Yes," says Victor, voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes."
("Your silence speaks volumes," Seung-gil says dryly. "This isn't fun and games, you realize. We're here to help Gumiho, but we know the stakes and the roles we must fulfill. We know what must be done."
"But to make that kind of decision without consulting Yuuri – "
"Gumiho requested it himself."
"The tests?"
"No," says Seung-gil, and a cold realization hits Victor like a stone to his heart. "Not the tests.")
"Gonna ask him?" Christophe asks quietly.
"Maybe," Victor murmurs, then closes his eyes. "I don't know."
"Not a fun conversation, I'd imagine."
"Why didn't he tell me?"
Christophe shrugs. "It's pretty cruel, no? 'Hey, I told my closest friends to kill me if I go postal. Wanna join in?'"
Victor flashes a wry smile. "Point taken."
"I'm surprised Phichit went with it."
… I promised Yuuri to do whatever it takes.
… Once Yuuri has made his choice, I'll always support him for it.
"I'm not," Victor sighs.
"Want me to go in with you?"
"No, I'll be fine." Victor claps Christophe on the shoulder. "Go home before you frighten old ladies with your getup."
Christophe grins, flexing his exposed abs beneath his jacket. "They'll be lucky to get a glimpse of these babies." Turning somber, he nods at Victor. "Let me know it goes."
Taking a deep breath, Victor unlocks the door and steps in. Instantly, he's bathed in the delicious scent of katsudon, of home – and his chest feels as though it's collapsing in on itself.
When Yuuri said he had given up, Victor never once considered death as an option. The thought of his angel, gone, never to grace him with that bashful smile ever again – it terrifies Victor. In that moment, Yuuri's agonized screams reverberate through his mind then, unbidden, and he almost succumbs to the urge to curl in a ball, hands over his ears.
"Victor? Is that you?" Yuuri appears at the entranceway, worry etched clearly across the soft features. "Where have you been? You weren't picking up your phone, and Chris wasn't answering his – a-are you hurt?"
Warm hands, so gentle – so different from the malevolence in the past hour – reach for his shoulder, pressing at the makeshift bandage. "You're bleeding! How did this happen? Was it a youkai attack? Are you – oomph."
Victor yanks Yuuri abruptly into his arms, burying his nose into the nest of black hair. Grapefruit and pork cutlets drift into his senses, the mixture such an utterly ridiculous combination and so Yuuri that Victor feels his throat burn.
("If you can't handle it, hunter, then I suggest you leave. Leave and take heart that you won't have to sully your hands with Gumiho's blood like the rest of us.")
He'd thrown away everything for a single impulse decision, only to discover a new love – and a new life. One where he is content and fulfilled to simply ride the same train, climb up the same stairs, and greet the same person, night after night after night.
The old Victor would look at him now, click his tongue at the mundaneness of it all, and wonder where it had all gone wrong.
Leave?
He can't possibly leave now.
Not when Yuuri needs him.
Not when he needs Yuuri.
"I want to stay with you," Victor rasps, breathing in Yuuri's scents, every fiber of his being tangling in a building tension behind his eyes. "No matter what happens, I'll always be with you."
For a beat, Yuuri doesn't respond. Then, slowly, he feels slender arms circle his waist, lips curving against his neck. "I'd like that," Yuuri murmurs so very sweetly without question, and Victor unravels, tears spilling into the soft, black strands.
Screw "roles" and "requests" and "doing what must be done".
Till death do them part – and he will protect his broken angel until he draws his last breath.
The heavy door bursts open with such force, it rips away at the top hinge, twisting to the side with a groan.
Seung-gil barely has time to react, before a hand slams into his throat. He gasps, feeling his feet leave the ground, swinging helplessly in the air. Even with the breath strangled out of him, vision blurring, those gold eyes remain luminous, glowing with dark ferocity.
"Gumiho," he chokes, "Calm yourself – "
"What did you do," Yuuri growls, his fingers digging deeper, nails biting into skin. "What did you do."
Seung-gil feels panic – real, genuine panic. He has witnessed Yuuri's devastating abilities on youkai, but to actually experience them in person, with his charms beyond reach and Chulanont unavailable – "I can't," he claws frantically at Yuuri's hand, "I can't answer you like this…"
Yuuri lets out an animalistic noise, before he flings Seung-gil back into his chair. "Talk," he snarls, golden eyes flashing.
Peering through bangs matted with sweat, Seung-gil inhales greedily, filling his lungs with lost air. Yuuri watches him with an intense gaze, hips cocked to one side, fingers drumming on his arms in a distinctly human gesture. So the half-youkai isn't entirely lost to the beast within him, but he's close, his anger tapping into the fox's primal instincts and further fueling the fire.
Seung-gil nods at Yuuri. "What do you want to know," he croaks, the words scratching painfully against his bruised throat.
"What you did to Victor."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Lee Seung-gil," Yuuri snaps, and Seung-gil flinches at the surge of raw power. "Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out? Victor comes home, dressed for combat, carrying his bow and arrows, bleeding from a gaping hole in his shoulder – and you didn't think all signs would point to you and your missions?"
"He chose to accept one," Seung-gil points out cautiously.
"After you goaded him into it, I'm sure." For a flash, Yuuri's face shifts into an expression of deep sadness. "The mission could've killed him, he could've died – "
"And he didn't."
Seung-gil grits his teeth as he's hit with another blast of power; he really needs to stop with the provocative responses.
"No, instead, he's burdened with something far worse. He cried, you know. Victor cried. He's always so refined and composed that I've never seen him cry outside of his movies, but he actually cried, saying something about wanting to stay, wanting to be with me…" Yuuri falters, before he draws a shaky breath, gold eyes hardening. "You told him, didn't you? About our contingency plan."
Seung-gil inhales. He has to proceed carefully; Yuuri is far too volatile in his current state. "We have a plan," he states. "Not the best one, but something concrete. The hunter's presence is an anomaly, and given how he insists in being involved in your affairs, I wanted to ascertain his intent, his will, in ensuring your extermination." The curator sniffs disdainfully, unable to stop himself. "I didn't think it'd make him cry."
"Some of us have emotions," Yuuri says sharply, fingers curling into fists. "More importantly, I didn't want him involved! He was supposed to just dabble in youkai extermination, finish with his filming, and leave."
"You live with the man, Gumiho. Did you really think he'd be happy to just up and leave like that?"
And there's that sorrowful expression again. "I figured he'd get bored eventually. He usually does."
The most powerful being he knows on earth is also denser than a brick.
Seung-gil sighs, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't going to tell you anything until I could find more evidence, but it might be better for you to know after all."
Frowning, Yuuri crosses his arms again. "Tell me what?"
"You remember Morooka's big project, don't you?"
"Of course I do. Sensei was working on a serum that would allow us to purify youkai instead of exterminating them. He was hoping – " the Japanese exhales, "Well, I was hoping, it'd work on me."
Seung-gil feels a tinge of feeling for the other man – just a tinge. "There are rumors that Murase and his posse are creating a serum strong enough to corrupt a youkai and heighten its base instincts. The id, as the psychiatrist Freud might call it."
Gold eyes widen. "You mean – "
"Right," Seung-gil nods, wincing at the motion. "The very opposite of Morooka's research. The worst part is, people say the recent increase in youkai trouble is a result of their experimentations. If my hunch is correct, then your Minami kid was a guinea pig sent in to test your limits… maybe even to see how much of a dose is needed to draw the fox out for good."
"Oh," says Yuuri dully, gaze dropping to the floor.
"Your needless tendency to get worked up is exactly why I held back on telling you," Seung-gil grumbles. "I don't know how far along they are in this supposed project, much less the truth behind these rumors in the first place."
"But that's why you felt you had to test Victor, isn't it? So he wouldn't interfere?"
"That, and because he wouldn't even use seals on you. The fool's gunning to get us all killed with his stupid ideals of trust and love."
Yuuri bares his teeth like an animal, "His 'stupid ideals' are the only things giving me life."
When Seung-gil blinks impassively, Yuuri releases an explosive sigh, dragging a palm across his face. "I'll talk to Victor," he mutters after a while. "In the meantime, no more tests or missions. Not without informing me first."
Seung-gil massages his neck gingerly. "Fine."
As Yuuri turns to leave, Seung-gil raises his voice as far as it can go. "At least fix the entrance before you – "
A loud crunching noise echoes through the museum, before Yuuri hurls the oak door at Seung-gil's feet, a large dent in the thick wood. "All fixed," he deadpans, brushing splinters off his knuckles.
Dumbfounded, Seung-gil can only stare at the busted door.
"By the way," Yuuri adds, looking over his shoulder, "I think you owe Victor an apology for putting him in unnecessary danger."
Seung-gil lifts his head to see gold eyes slant dangerously at him.
"Only a suggestion, of course."
Notes
I rarely switch POVs within a chapter, but I felt this one was necessary for plot reasons, and also because Victor's image of his angel is so tinted he might as well be wearing 3D glasses lol.
Feel free to squeal with me on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies. tumblr. com (remove the spaces).