Allodoxaphobia ♅ Viktuuri

13) ''I Would Rather Have A Burden On My Shoulders''

Yuuri's next weeks of school were the best he had had in a long time. Not only had he smiled on more than one occasion, he had also laughed in the presence of others a few times too- though, most of all, it was in Viktor's presence that he let himself loose.

Unfortunately, that hadn't changed a thing. A simple remedy such as laughing can only mask what pain you feel underneath. It works for as long as you can hold up the facade but your arms strain and that facade, at one point or another, will fall. Two weeks had just been Yuuri's limit- some it was one, others it was years...some it was their entire life. No one is free from pain but many are better than hiding it than others and some suffer the consequences much worse.

So, after that dreaded two weeks had passed, Yuuri found himself in the toilet stall once again, his cheeks stained and his eyes bloodshot. His cycle never changed. He shed tears, he trembled, he sobbed but in the end, he would wipe his eyes and continue on.

And, that's just what he did. He continued on through the day, answering Viktor's panicked questions when he had walked into his classroom during their shared lunchtime break slightly more rugged than usual. Viktor had left him off the hook, letting himself believe that Yuuri really was just having 'a bad day' and had found himself disorganised and unpunctual.

Then, as he walked home, he felt the burden heavy on his shoulders and the voices all the louder- his voice. He had to keep reminding himself that those were voices, they were no demon nor were they fictional, they were simply him. Maybe that made it better or maybe that made it worse, Yuuri couldn't decide. All he knew was that the voice was there to torment him. It was there to lower him until his esteem had reached its bounds.

He was caged by those voices. They gave him choices- bad or worst. Frown or cry. Speak or cry. Cut or die.

His options were so minimal, so limited that he found himself bound to harming himself. That's what the others did to get rid of their pain, was it not? But, why wasn't it working for him? Why, each time he sliced his skin, did it feel more and more useless. Soon, all he felt was pain, no release. It was a burden but he was telling himself to do it and he hadn't the willpower to stop himself.

The next day, when school came back around, he found himself in the toilets stalls, just like the day before, yet this time was different. This time was worse, so much worse. He no longer cried, he sobbed. He longer scratched at his skin, he bled. He no longer...he no longer had the senses to realise there was someone outside the door.

On the other side of the door was Viktor who heard his gritted screams of agony, his voice trapped behind clamped teeth. He could practically hear the boy ripping at his skin with his fingernails. Yet, Yuuri couldn't hear the man pounding on the door anymore. He was too lost in the pain. Somewhere, yes, he knew that someone was there but he didn't care. Not until the door came down.

Viktor's leg slammed into the door, not caring what damage was done or who was there to see the commotion. The door's lock dented, loosening from it's already barely functioning state and soon, the cubicle door was swinging open. What was found on the other side was no less than nightmarish. Yuuri's arms bled, nail marks across the skin of his forearm, even a few higher. There were scratches at his neck, his cheeks as if he was trying to stop but couldn't. It was clear that Yuuri didn't want to do this but he found himself doing it anyway. He found himself punishing his body for his own mind.

'Yuuri, stop!' Viktor begged as he crouched down in front of the young boy but Yuuri shook his head. He couldn't stop, not now. It was too late to turn back. He would only stop when the pain went but how could the pain go away by inflicting more pain? That wasn't how life worked, that was just how Yuuri's mind had led him to perceive it as.

'Yuuri, please stop.' Viktor tried to grab at his arms but Yuuri was too strong in his desperation. His fingernails remained on the skin on his cheeks, dragging over the scabs that were already forming. 'Yuuri, please.' His voice was slower, quieter, calmer. Viktor just needed this to stop but he wasn't. Viktor was powerless.

But, he wasn't.

Viktor furrowed his eyebrows, knowing the decision was for the best and with some reluctance, he let himself concentrate, let himself concentrate on Yuuri's arms coming down to his waist, his nails away from any skin. Viktor's eyes shot open to see his vision come to life, well, not quite. Yuuri was...furious.

The boy was still trembling yet his posture was strong. He didn't know what to say all that came out was a stammered 'Vik', he could never even finish his name. 'Yuuri, you're fine now. I'm sorry, I had to. I couldn't let you continue doing that to yourself.' Viktor reassured hurriedly, checking over the boy's injuries, all of which were minor. Yet, no matter the severity of the marks, they still covered him- crossing over him like stitches.

'Y-you used your power on me.' Yuuri blubbered as Viktor inspected his cheeks, those cuts were probably the deepest.

'I know I did.' Viktor muttered, in no mood to argue.

'You p-promised y-you wouldn't use y-your power on me!' He raised his voice but his body was too weak to shout. He was still trembling under Viktor's gaze, fearing what was to come. Viktor didn't respond for minutes; he continuously checked over his cuts but that was all. When he finally did reply, it was not the answer Yuuri hoped for. This was no apology.

'I may hate my power but I hate what you just did to yourself more. I would rather have a burden on my shoulders if it could save you rather than having nothing at all.' Viktor sounded so serious, it was so unlike him. His usual smile was distorted into a frown and his eyes were no longer a beautiful indigo but an ice-cold blue. Everything that Yuuri loved about Viktor seemed to have been stripped away, even his hair seemed to hang awkwardly across his face, and Yuuri found himself hating himself for causing the change.

'G-get off me.' He finally spoke, pushing Viktor's hands away from his shoulders. 'I don't want to see your face anymore. You broke a promise. I don't care if it was for me, you still broke it.' He sounded so childish, so petty but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to cut ties, he wanted to save Viktor from the person that was himself.

So, instead of a thank you, he said goodbye.

word count: 1184

published: 22.04.17