Chapter Text
It was one o'clock in the morning when a scream ripped through the cold, still autumn air.
Viktor Nikiforov, Russia's young tsesarevich, cried and curled inward, clutching his chest. He was burning, like that one time he accidentally touched the hot pan with his finger while he watched his grandfather cook the meat for piroshki, but except it was on his chest and it wasn't going away. The pain was coming from outside and inside him, and Viktor was so confused because if he was burning, where was the fire—Mama, it hurts!
His sobs increased in volume, the pain searing itself into his skin. His eyes were screwed shut and Viktor struggled to breathe, only choked gasps and shouts leaving his lips. But the burn intensified and Viktor screamed, clutching at the breast of his shirt even tighter, tears escaping closed lids and flowing down already-damp cheeks.
“Mama!” he sobbed, writhing under his blankets. “Mama! ”
Just a hallway down from Viktor's closed door, a pair of guards had heard his cries and rushed to the tsesarevich’s aid. They turned the corner and nearly collided with the tsarina, who was already woken by her son’s sobs. They locked eyes for a split second, but the tsarina turned away to wrench the bedroom door open.
“Vitya!” she shouted when she stepped in the room, her eyes widening when they adjusted to the darkness. She quickly gathered her small son into her arms, smoothing back long strands of sweaty silver hair and wiping teary blue eyes. “Solnyshko, what’s wrong?”
“Hurts,” he whimpered in reply, pained little noises escaping him as he clutches her nightgown. "Mama, it hurts."
Taking a deep breath, the tsarina turned to the guards, who were still standing, frozen, in the doorway. “Wake my father,” she instructed, letting some of her authority leak into her voice. “Tell him to meet me in the tsesarevich's room.”
They saluted unsteadily (she suddenly realized that one of them was Georgi's father, and of course the two guards would be worried—Viktor often whiled away the hours after his studies with the palace guards and they all cared for him deeply), and when they were gone, the tsarina hugged her son tighter to her breast. Minute tremors and muffled sobs still passed through him—though she dimly registered they had decreased in volume—but her worry was still nearing dangerous levels. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, she prayed.
With an aching heart, she pried Viktor's small hands away from her clothes so she could see what had caused him so much pain. "Shh, shh," she murmured, pulling sweaty layers off his body with shaking hands. "You'll be just fine, Vitya, I love you, you'll be okay."
“Nadia!” her father's voice called from the open doorway, making her head snap up. “The guards told me that something was wrong with Vitya. What happened?”
At that, the dam holding back her emotions crumbled. Her fists clenched the blue blankets, which were flung away because of Viktor's kicking. He was only three years old; she couldn't lose him, too.
“Papa, I don’t know,” she confessed, beginning to cry. Her father sat on the opposite side of the bed, green eyes filled with concern. “He just began screaming and I ran here, and I-I didn’t know what to do.” Nadia glanced back at her son and sent him a small smile. “Does it still hurt, solnyshko?” she asked, beginning to pull the last shirt off.
“Not really,” Viktor mumbled, wiping stray tears away as he sat up. "Mama, are you okay?" he said, looking up at her with worry that mirrored her own.
She laughed softly at the realization and sniffed and roughly wiped away her own tears. Carding her fingers through Viktor's tangled hair to smooth out the knots, she whispered tenderly, "I'm fine, lyubov moya. Mama's very happy that you're all right."
Viktor smiled at her, the familiar heart-shaped grin giving her nostalgia. Oh, I wish you could have seen him grow up.
But she froze at the flash of black on her son’s chest as it was uncovered by that last shirt. Her heart lurched. “Papa,” she whispered.
"I see it," he replied, an unusual tone in his voice.
“That’s never been there before. Th-that shape—it’s new. ”
“You are correct,” Nikolai agreed, not looking as troubled as she thought he was.
"Papa, what are you thinking?" she asked when he didn't elaborate on his previous words. "Is it—?"
"Yes. I believe so."
"Mama? Dedushka?" Viktor interjected quietly, confused.
“I believe that mark on Vitya’s chest may be a soulmark," Nikolai surmised, hesitating slightly as he ignored his grandson's unspoken question. "His intended must have just been born, which is why it only manifested today.”
“But it hurt him, Papa. His soulmark hurt him!"
Nadia was too emotional to think clearly; if she was her usual level-headed self, she would have been able to calmly rationalize. Since soulmarks were infused with magic (and her son’s body was not used to holding magic, of course), it would hurt to suddenly have such an influx of power flood his tiny body. In addition, the mark was actually quite beautiful—it was a small feather, stark black against snowy skin.
. . . And the feather was right over his heart—the closer it was, the stronger the bond.
But because Nadia was still consumed with concern over Viktor’s well-being, her father calmly explained the above to her. “We should try to figure out who Vitya’s soulmate is,” he said, as an end his explanation. “Find babies born today with a soulmark.”
“Mama? What’s wrong?” Viktor asked again, still not comprehending the importance of the situation. “What's a s-soul—?”
Nadia let out a deep sigh to calm down, then smiled gently at her son. “Your soulmate, solnyshko, is a person who loves you very much. They’ll make you very happy, and you’ll want to make them happy in return. They’ll be your best friend.”
“Like you and Papa?” Viktor asked innocently, poking his head through his shirt as he put it back on.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Y-Yes,” Nadia managed to say, smiling slightly. “Like me and Papa.”
“I wanna meet them,” Viktor said bravely. “I wanna see if they’re okay 'cause I was hurting, and if they're hurt they're probably real sad. And that’s what best friends do.”
Nadia and her father laughed. “There’s my little boy,” she said, pulling him into a hug. Little arms wrapped around her as well. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Now, back to bed. It's been a long night for you.”
Viktor then yawned, smiling sheepishly. "Night, Mama."
His mother and grandfather then left, whispering to each other, but Viktor couldn't fall asleep despite the weight of sleepiness pressing down on him.
He couldn't wait to meet his soulmate and—oh! What if he wrote them a letter? That would cheer them up!
to you
i love you!
from viktor
Perfect.
And at almost the same exact time as Viktor Nikiforov received his soulmark, the kingdom of Hasetsu was experiencing some tension of its own.
It was also an early autumn morning there; early enough that the sky was only just beginning to lighten. Wind whistled through bare branches and flung fallen leaves high into the air.
Most people were not aware of the worry that day though; parents were waking to add more wood to their fires and checking on the small, fur-blanketed bodies huddled nearby for warmth. The village bakery began rolling dough like clockwork to prepare for the morning rush, several loaves already toasting in the oven.
But lights blazed in the castle overlooking the sleeping village, and the king was pacing anxiously outside a room. His wife had gone into labor with their second child, and her pain-filled screams made his heart ache. He longed to rush in there to hold her hand, whisper You’re doing so well, Hiroko, our baby’s going to be so beautiful, but he had been forcibly removed from the room when the doctor’s face became grim and she pronounced There was a complication with the birth, Your Majesty, please leave right now.
Toshiya trusted Minako, trusted her so much, and had faith that the woman would deliver his child safely. But the love of his life was in so much agony and there was nothing that he could do to prevent it.
Their daughter, Mari, was still sleeping soundly (it was still a little early for her to be up), and Toshiya didn’t have the heart to wake her during such a tense moment. She had been so excited to finally have a sibling, and despite her parents warning her that she wouldn’t know the gender until the baby was born, she had insisted that she’d have a brother.
As the sun’s rays began to stream into the hallway, Toshiya ran his hands through his hair (was it thinning? The stress was really getting to him) and sat down, his back sliding against the wall. He released a breath, whispering to himself, “Please let Hiroko and our child be safe.”
The door suddenly burst open, and Toshiya looked up wildly. It was Minako, looking haggard, her normally impeccable hair rough and unkempt, but she was smiling.
“How are they?” Toshiya asked, jumping to his feet. To Minako, he knew that he looked at least as stressed as she, if not more. But hope was bubbling in his chest.
“They’re just fine, heika, ” the doctor said, smirking at his protests of “Minako, I’ve told you to just call me Toshiya!” and stepping aside to let him through.
“Hiroko,” Toshiya breathed once seeing her resting in bed, a small white bundle nestled in her arms. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she said, giving him a sleepy smile as he rushed over to her, Minako following close behind. Hiroko’s cheeks were flushed pink from exertion, and her eyes were bright as ever as she looked between the bundle in her arms and her husband. “Say hello to our son.”
Toshiya gently picked the sleeping baby up, and took this moment to study their child, tears beginning to prick his eyes. Downy black hair, chubby cheeks with a healthy flush, and most definitely a pair of warm brown eyes underneath closed lids. “He’s perfect,” he whispered, cradling the baby close.
Hiroko’s laugh sounded watery, her emotions getting to her. Glancing at the doctor, she added, “He’s also got a soulmark, can you believe it? Minako noticed when she was washing him.”
Toshiya started, staring at the baby in disbelief. “Our son has a soulmark?”
To his left, Minako nodded. “On his chest—a little silver feather.”
Toshiya gently pulled back the soft blue blanket, confirming Minako’s words. The mark was smooth and bright, looking as natural on his skin as any part of his body would.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hiroko whispered, echoing her husband’s thoughts. Taking her son back from Toshiya, she asked Minako, “Do you think he’ll ever meet his soulmate?”
The doctor frowned at her question. “It’s hard to say,” she confessed, smoothing her brown hair back into her usual half-ponytail. “I’ve heard stories that people know as soon as they make eye contact, or that a secondary mark appears on their skin as soon as they touch. Usually soulmarks are on the same general area of the body, but it’s hard to find who your other half is because they could be anywhere in the world. And there’s the added complication of magic being involved—”
“Well, it’s no matter,” Hiroko said, smiling tenderly at her son. “We’ll love our Yuuri for as long as we’re alive. We’ll make sure he’s happy.”
Toshiya laughed, noting the name. “It suits him. He fought long and hard to be with us today.”
“That he did,” Minako agreed.
And an hour later, Mari met her little brother.
Minako had left to make her daily rounds in the village, and Toshiya had gone to announce the good news to the kingdom. But Yuuri was awake this time, staring wide-eyed at his newest visitor. His eyes were as dark as Toshiya predicted, carbon copies of his parents.
“He’s so small,” Mari gasped, playing with Yuuri’s feet and marveling as they curled inward at her touch. “And so cute!”
“It’s your job to take care of him,” Hiroko instructed, repositioning the baby in her arms. “Yuuri’s too young to know what to do, so that’s why you have to set a good example for him as he gets older. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course!” Mari said, affronted. Yuuri’s tiny hand was currently wrapped around her finger. “I’m gonna be the best sister ever!”
“I’m counting on you,” Hiroko said, smiling.
And later, Yuuri’s birth was received with intense joy from the villagers.
When the news was first made public nine months ago, the kingdom was thrilled when they discovered that Queen Hiroko was pregnant with her second child, seven years after she gave birth to the Crown Princess Mari. They loved their king and queen, and had a great deal of respect for the way that they ruled Hasetsu.
And they fell in love with Prince Yuuri when he was presented up on the castle’s balcony, loud cheers resounding from the crowd below.
However, Yuuri’s soulmark was kept secret to everyone except for his family, Minako, and a few trusted servants. Toshiya and Hiroko were all-too-aware that Unbonded had great magical power because of the rarity and strength of the connection between souls, and would only grow stronger once they were able to prove their love to one another. But once they found each other, their magic would be strong enough to protect them.
Yuuri’s parents wanted to keep their son as safe for as long as they could until his soulmate was found.
As time passed, kingdoms everywhere sent their congratulations and gifts for Katsuki Yuuri’s birth (including a Russian tsarina with a small son of her own, but that was a story for later), and the country was happy and at peace.
The family had no idea of the tumult that was to erupt in the far future.
Because unbeknownst to all, there was a man who—despite attempts of Hasetsu’s royal family to keep the secret under wraps—heard whispers that the youngest prince was born with a soulmark. Once he heard this, no matter how baseless the rumors were, he had a spy installed deep into the network of the kingdom. This man was selfish and power-hungry, you see, and desperately needed the magic of an Unbonded to carry out his budding plans.
But he needed to wait. The spell he had to use took years to develop, and he needed his spy to slowly gain the trust of the king and queen and strike when least expected. And luckily for him, this man was good at waiting; his everlasting patience and his mind were his greatest virtue.
So he slunk deep into the recesses of Hasetsu, biding his time until everything was ready.
He would wait for twenty-four years.