Prologue

Huffs and grunts filled the darkened musty space, echoing off of the walls as the bodies were thrown down, limp from the harsh beatings they were receiving. The single overhead light was swinging in a circle, creating a dancing pattern of light which reflected off the sweat-slicked skin of the two men positioned underneath it. The air was unbearably warm and thick with the smell of blood and sweat, rancid with the perspiration of body-crushing exertion produced in their fight of a seemingly endless battle.

Backing up, Yuuri felt the damp skin of his back collide with Victor's naked back, slipping easily against each other as they braced themselves for impact. Throwing a chaste glance over his shoulder, Yuuri found Victor mirroring his smirk. "Ready to kick some ass?" Cracking his neck, Yuuri eyed his approaching targets between his raised fists.

"Kick theirs, then kiss yours," Victor answered, raising his eyebrow at the men stalking in a circle around them. They looked like they were begging for death and with his smirk still in place, Victor lifted a single hand beckoning them closer to their imminent demise.

3 hours earlier

Competition was a thrill. A thrill built from pillars of anxiety, anticipation, excitement, and eagerness. Yuuri had learned long ago that he could ride the high of those feelings, swirling them together to fuel a storm at the pit of his stomach, preparing to unleash their deadly energy at the command of the first bell.

He had faced losses, never as gracefully as he had faced wins, but his fan base and the general public didn't know that. Yuuri was known for his stoic nature and his quiet strength which exploded in the middle of the ring to bleed terror into the hearts and minds of his opponents. Outside of the rink, he looked like nothing more than an unassuming nerd, tousled hair and rimmed glasses paired with his usual baggy clothing. Inside of the rink, however, Yuuri was hardened muscle, laser focus, and so devastatingly breathtaking he often left his opponents windless with his looks alone.

Hopping from foot to foot, Yuuri shook out the tension in his arms, letting the thunderous roar of the crowd fuel the heated beast beginning to growl inside of him. To his left, Celestino stood with perfect posture, ponytail resting over his shoulder as his eyes narrowed toward the tunnel opening. To Yuuri's right, Phichit was rattling off the list of first aid supplies, calming his own nerves by reviewing the hand-written checklist for a third time. Together they would enter the temporary construction functioning as an arena, but once they reached the octagon, Yuuri would enter alone.

Prepared for the fight of his life, Yuuri took three quick jabs into the air, drawing his fists back to his chest when the first notes of his theme song blared over the speakers. The already deafening crowd became a sonic boom of voices as the black curtains lifted and Yuuri began his descent toward the ring.

"Don't you find it a little… I don't know… extra, that they decided to build an octagon in the middle of an old castle?" Georgi stood next to Victor, hand running over the old stone wall, shaking his head as he wiped the dirt off on his training pants. "I mean, I know this is the fight of the century and all," Georgi quipped, a teasing drip of sarcasm sneaking into his voice and making Victor smile, "but seriously, there are state-of-the-art facilities available for these things."

Rolling his neck, Victor considered Georgi's musings, letting his eyes wander over the dank stone-covered space. The castle was old, positioned on the side of a hill, flanked by a sea of ancient looking trees. Most of it was stone, although carved wood posts stood in various places providing support that Victor couldn't quite wrap his mind around.

The castle was certainly picked to add to the aesthetic of the fight and a convenient choice as the town below it was large enough to house the crowd that had gathered. Cameras and reporters from all over the world would line the top tier of the temporarily erected stadium seating and Victor paused in his stretching to make sure his hair was in place. Once the fight began all bets were off, but he could at least enter the vast room looking perfect. After all, that's what people had come to expect of him.

"Don't underestimate Katsuki," Yakov growled over Victor's shoulder, standing slightly behind Victor and Georgi and glaring forward at nothing in particular. "And don't get distracted. The last time you two fought, your libido almost cost you the match. This is a global stage, Vitya, I won't have your unexplainable lust for your opponent cost you your victory." Spitting on the floor, Yakov stepped forward, eyes narrowing toward the impending pull of the curtain.

"Not unexplainable," Victor muttered, looking sideways when Georgi nudged him with a knowing grin.

Yuuri Katsuki was a flawed fighter. His technique was passionate, anyone facing him could feel his love for the fight, but his confidence was abysmal. After their last fight, in which Victor won by a narrow margin, he had attempted to compliment Yuuri on his skills. He had been rebuffed, Yuuri muttering a comment about losing before disappearing into his locker room to be patched up.

The media and avid fans of their sport often compared the two of them. Yuuri was fire, explosive in his sequence of moves and burning his opponents with his relentless stamina. Victor was ice, cool-headed in the ring and calculating to a degree that some called evil. They were a perfect contrast, and no one loved that fact more than Victor himself.

Hearing the rise of his song rumble through the castle-turned-arena, Victor gave one final flip of his hair and led his team out into the crowd.

The twisted wire of the octagon fence dug into Yuuri's skin as he leaned back to listen to Celestino's last minute instructions. He could only partially concentrate on his coach's adamant hissing, his eyes watching closely as Victor continued to roll his neck and shoulders to loosen up. Victor was taller and leaner, but Yuuri had studied him extensively. This time, he wouldn't lose.

Heat pooled in Victor's stomach. He could feel Yuuri's eyes on him, knowing that even with blurry vision, Yuuri was analyzing him and already preparing for their fight. Behind his head, Yakov was screaming the last of his advice, spitting again with a final remark about Victor doing what he wanted to anyway. This was true; it always was. Setting his face in his most deceivingly sweet smile, Victor took a step toward the center of the ring, ready to go toe-to-toe with the most beautiful man in the room.

They stood a mere four feet apart. This close Yuuri could see that Victor had chosen his red and white shorts for their fight, his gloves and tape coordinating in their patterns and colors. Yuuri had chosen his signature blue with his supports monochrome in pitch black. Phichit had raved about the intimidating nature of Yuuri's color scheme, and while such things never mattered to Yuuri, he wanted to look his best when he knocked his idol out in the first round. He wanted Victor to remember this fight as the day that Yuuri finally took him down.

Rules were being reiterated, mostly for the benefit of the crowd, but Victor couldn't hear anything over his own heartbeat. Yuuri's skin was glistening, his abdominal muscles flexing with every breath as he stared Victor down. Flames flickered inside of Yuuri's brown irises and Victor could feel them licking at his skin while Yuuri surveyed him. Where Yuuri stood ready to snap, Victor remained calm, his nerves carefully locked away inside of him as everyone expected them to be. Only his team knew that this would be his last fight and Victor intended on making it one that the world would remember.

The ref's voice finally faded away and the man stepped back to allow Victor and Yuuri to knock their gloves together before taking their opening stances. With the crowd collectively holding their breath, the two fighters lowered into position, eyes connecting as they waited for the ding to release them upon each other.

BOOM!

Yuuri's shoulder collided with the spring floor as he was blown backwards. His head was ringing from the sound, eyes barely able to register the crumbling area which had been blasted. People screamed, fleeing from their seats and pouring from the exits, filling the entire space with chaos and terror. Bleary-eyed, Yuuri squinted across the octagon, seeing Celestino forcing Phichit backwards into the crowd as his best friend screamed Yuuri's name. Fear gripped at Yuuri's chest, making him curl toward the floor as he began to hyperventilate.

Crawling with his elbows, Victor dragged himself toward Yuuri, ignoring Georgi's screeching from the side of the octagon. All around them people were scurrying from the building, shoving against each other in their haste to escape. The stench of explosive chemicals burned against Victor's nostrils as he pulled himself toward Yuuri, staying low to the ground as rocks and debris continued to fall around them.

Pressing a hand to his head, Yuuri screwed his eyes shut trying to control the panic. Celestino was right to get Phichit out as quickly as possible; Yuuri was quicker and more agile, with a better sense of the ins and outs of this building than either of the members of his team. Still, the feeling of abandonment was wringing his heart like a wet sponge and Yuuri growled in a merger attempt to fight off the need to cry.

"Yuuri!" Victor yelled, wrapping his fingers over Yuuri's shoulder and shaking him. "We have to get out of here!" There was a hint of dread in Victor's statement, the slick feeling of his palm slipping from Yuuri's shoulder emphasizing his own seizing alarm. He continued to shake Yuuri until his opponent looked up at him, Victor's heart immediately sinking at the open shock and horror he found on Yuuri's face. Reaching to touch Yuuri's cheek, Victor hoped to reassure him. A moment passed between them, silence in the middle of chaos and Victor falsely thought he had succeeded. Instead they found themselves nearly crashing their foreheads together, jumping as a single terrorized scream ripped through the crumbling room, louder than any of the other panicked noises currently circling around them.

Together their heads lifted, following the source of the scream and watching with slacked jaws as the head of their international federation was ripped from his grip on his wife, his family being dragged back by darkly clothed assailants. Scrambling to their feet, they slammed through the octagon opening, leaping over chairs and sprinting toward the oppressively large humans terrorizing the family who had organized the event.

Matching blows to the backs of their heads dropped Yuuri and Victor to the floor. No one noticed as the two star fighters were lifted over the shoulders of muscled goons, their athletic bodies limp in unconsciousness as they were carried away.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Victor felt the repetitive cool drops against his cheek, his consciousness rising sluggishly through the thick haze of the fire-red pain in his head. He was used to taking blows, but fists and feet were far different than whatever had knocked the lights out of his brain this time. Groaning, he attempted to open his eyes, shifting to discover that his body was anchored to someone else. Despite the dull throb at the back of his skull, Victor angled his head to identify the person behind him. Heart slamming hard into his stomach, Victor's eyes traveled over the sagging form of Yuuri, held upright only by his connection to Victor.

Another cold drop hit Victor's cheek and he flinched, resting his head back on Yuuri's shoulder to avoid the falling droplets of what he prayed was water. The skin of his wrists burned where they were tied with thin rope, the backs of his wrists pressed firmly against Yuuri's where they were bound together. It seemed impractical that they would be tied with their arms extended to their sides, Yuuri's left wrist anchored tightly to Victor's right and Victor's right bound to Yuuri's left, but Victor had never been kidnapped and tied up before so he supposed he wasn't an expert on the practice of doing so.

Pressing his fists into the dirt, Victor attempted to shift, flinching at the pain which flashed over his skin. Examining the rest of his body, he noted the angry red welts which were spreading across his chest and stomach where the ropes continued their binding wind around his body. His legs were tethered at the ankles and an experimental stretch of his neck revealed that a rope had also been wound there. Swallowing hard, he could feel the roughness of the rope against his throat as his Adam's apple bobbed.

A moan, long and deep, rolled through the room as Yuuri came to. "Son of a bitch!" Yuuri cursed, his head snapping up faster than Victor's had.

In another setting, Victor would have laughed at Yuuri's crass American version of cussing, but their situation hardly left room for humor at the moment. Giving an experimental hum, Victor analyzed the tightness of the rope around his neck, deciding that it would not hinder his speech. Clearing his throat, Victor tried to sound confident as he asked, "Are you alright?" He felt his arms shift involuntarily as Yuuri struggled against their holds.

"Just fucking peachy," Yuuri snapped. His wrists felt ready to pop out of their sockets and his chest was scorching everywhere the rope was dragging over his skin. His mental anguish collided with his physical entrapment, making his mind immediately explode into a blind panicked terror. "What the fuck?!"

This time Victor did chuckle. The Yuuri he knew was mild-mannered and calm outside of the ring, almost to the point of being spooky. Yuuri answered questions to the press without inflection and took every opponent without the trash talk and ribbing that everyone else seemed enamored with. There was shock value in hearing Yuuri cuss, and Victor angled his head to drop it back on Yuuri's shoulder, letting his chuckles get the best of him even as the rope tightened around his neck.

"Are you laughing?!" Yuuri grunted, head coming back to rest on Victor's shoulder. The rope around his neck slipped an inch lower, an ominous silent threat that made Yuuri shiver. Victor's body vibrated against his and Yuuri could feel the irritation crawling under his skin. They were tethered together, presumably left to die, and Victor had the audacity to laugh. Gritting his teeth, Yuuri twisted his head and reacted without thinking, nipping quickly at Victor's earlobe to get his attention.

Startled, Victor snapped his head from his attention on the ceiling to look at Yuuri. "Did you bite me?!" he asked, trying not to focus on how close Yuuri's face was to his own. If being leg-locked by Yuuri in the ring was hot, it was nothing compared to being tied to him, half-naked with a rope forcing their upper bodies to remain tightly pressed. For a brief moment, Victor considered what that potentially said about his own level of kinkiness, tilting his head slightly away from Yuuri to try to hide his quickly blushing cheeks.

Victor had asked him something, but Yuuri couldn't process words with Victor's face so close to his own. Phichit had teased him for years over his adoration and idolization of Victor, and his friend's words picked a very inopportune time to come slamming back into his brain. Stuttering out a breath, Yuuri chose to return his gaze to the ceiling, praying his mind would concentrate on his potential death, instead of the gorgeous man currently trapped against his back.

"Stop talking," Yuuri commanded, eyes roaming the room and assessing the dirt walls, only partially ignoring Victor's sharp inhale and the way it made their backs slide together. This room was definitely underground and the wood beams told Yuuri they were still within the confines of the castle. His years of delinquent exploration of this place might finally come in handy. He hoped they survived long enough for him to brag to his parents.

"Where are we?" Following Yuuri's eyes, Victor wondered why Yuuri suddenly looked so calm. He could feel the tension relaxing in Yuuri's back and the confusion rising in his own mind. Raising one of his arms, he peered curiously as Yuuri's came with it. Yuuri didn't fight against Victor's movements, letting Victor guide both of their arms up and down at their sides. Victor felt the urge to laugh again, the sight of his and Yuuri's arms slowly flapping like a Siamese bird was mildly hilarious, even in the middle of their current predicament.

Biting his lip, Yuuri watched as Victor moved their arms, quietly considering Victor's question. "My guess?" he lost his train of thought for a moment, eyes caught on the connection between their wrists making their arms move in tandem motion. "We're under the castle. There are many hidden rooms to this place." Squinting, Yuuri attempted to properly examine the walls. A glint of metal, reflected in the slit of light sneaking from beneath the only door made him grin. "If we can get up, we might be able to get out of these bindings." Flinching as he twisted his wrist, Yuuri wrapped his fingers between Victor's, repeating the process with their other hands before lifting an eyebrow in Victor's direction. "Time to test your core strength, Nikiforov."

The snort escaped Victor before he could prevent it, and Yuuri's resulting smile made his heart stutter in his chest. In the back of his mind, he knew that he should be worried about the possible end to his life, but somehow his only concern was narrowed around the feeling of Yuuri's hands in his own and the teasing hint to the smile on Yuuri's face. Winking, Victor lifted his head from Yuuri's shoulder, repositioning himself so their shoulders were even, despite the slight pull of the rope around his neck. "Ready?" he asked, squeezing Yuuri's hands as he dragged his heels through the dirt of the floor, bending his knees and pushing back against Yuuri.

"On the count of three," Yuuri directed, positioning his own legs to give him leverage. "One… Two… Thr-AH!" Gagging, Yuuri found himself bent forward over his own thighs, Victor arched over top of him while the rope around his neck dug painfully in his throat. Shoving hard, he felt Victor slip back to the ground.

"You said on the count of three!" Victor yelled, immediately glancing toward the door. It hadn't been until that exact moment that he considered the need to be quiet.

"You went in the middle of three!" Yuuri's voice sounded rough, an effect of having the rope so suddenly tightened around him. Huffing, he rolled his shoulders slightly to align them back into place against Victor's back. "This time, move when I say go. And keep your voice down." He threw a worried glance in the direction of the door, holding his breath as he listened for footsteps. Silence greeted his ears, the quiet feeling almost more threatening. If no one was guarding the room, there was a chance that even free from their bindings, they wouldn't find a way out. Quashing that fear before it could envelope him completely, Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek. "Ready?"

Humming his confirmation, Victor furrowed his brow. He was taller than Yuuri which meant quickly calculating the difference in their leg and torso length to adjust the pressure and balance needed to bring them both to a standing position. A prickle of concern told Victor to pay attention to the tension of the ropes higher on his body, knowing that they would pull upwards from their matching locations across Yuuri's neck and chest. Bracing himself with a small sigh, Victor concentrated on Yuuri's counting, carefully controlling his movements and reacting simultaneously with Yuuri's words and body.

Dirt kicked up around them as they pushed their bodies upward, first into a floating seat and then into a full stand. Victor bent his knees, adjusting his height to take on the pressure of the ropes and hopefully relieve some of it from Yuuri.

"On the wall," Yuuri used their joined hands to point to a small metal hook, curling from the middle of the far wall. Victor didn't allow himself time to consider why the sharp hook was there, instead letting his body follow Yuuri's path as they clumsily shifted over the bumpy ground.

Lifting their wrists, Yuuri guided the rope over the curled end of the hook. It was rusted and rough, aged from its years suspended in the dark, damp room. Efficiently, Yuuri worked the ragged edges against the braided strings, eyes squinting to sharpen the angle and attempt to avoid cutting their skin.

With a sigh, the rope fell from their wrists and Victor rolled his several times to loosen the ache. "Other one?" he asked, already beginning to shift his body sideways when he suddenly felt the pressure lessen across his chest. Eyes wide, he watched the rope fall to the ground, his body slumping slightly forward with its freedom. "How did you-" In awe, he saw Yuuri's nimble fingers work the rope free from their other wrists. He flushed when Yuuri dropped to his knees, hands working the ropes at Victor's ankles and yanking them free of the tightly wound knots.

Swinging his own legs out from underneath him, Yuuri quickly applied the same treatment to his own trappings. Bringing himself back up to kneel, he wound the rope around his own waist in rapid movements, tying the ends and tucking them into the top of his shorts. Without explanation, he repeated the same process around Victor's waist. Committing the image of Yuuri's hands skimming his bare stomach while kneeling in front of him to his permanent memory, Victor tried to speak around his own tied tongue. "What are you…" Yuuri's fingers disappeared into the waistband of his shorts, tucking the ends of the curled rope against his hipbone. Victor immediately forgot the question he was attempting to ask.

"Don't know what's out there," Yuuri shrugged, getting to his feet and wiping his hands off on his shorts. He told his heart to settle down, the tingling in his fingertips still lingering after their contact with Victor's skin. "Might need it." He spoke in clipped sentences, feeling the nerves building inside of his chest. Moving away from Victor, Yuuri returned to study the hook in the wall, wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a tentative tug. Their use of it had loosened the grip of the ancient wood beam and Yuuri was able to yank it free, tucking it in the line of rope tied around his waist. It wasn't an ideal weapon, but it was at least sharper than his fists. He hadn't risked another look in Victor's direction, but did now, immediately regretting the reversal of this decision when he discovered the awestruck gape of Victor's beautiful mouth aimed in his direction.

Now that they had defeated the first threat against their lives, Yuuri's mind was working overtime balancing the possibility that there were greater dangers ahead of them and that Victor looked stupidly good despite being kidnapped, tied up, and rolled through the dirt. It was unfair really. Shaking the thought from his head, Yuuri brushed past Victor, swiftly moving to the door and crouching down near its opening seam.

Squatting down next to Yuuri, Victor couldn't resist placing his palm against Yuuri's bare back. The only time he ever had the opportunity to make physical contact with Yuuri was when they were fighting, but after being tied directly to the solid wall of muscle that created the impeccable span of Yuuri's back, Victor found himself craving more of the feeling. He relished the fact that Yuuri didn't shrug him off, leaning closer to Yuuri's body under the guise of doing whatever Yuuri was currently doing.

"No footsteps." Alarmed at the slight shake in his voice, Yuuri softly cleared his throat. Victor's hand was a steady press against his back and Victor's warm breath was ghosting over his shoulder. Yuuri realized that even if there weren't a thousand muscled guards waiting to kill them on the other side of the door, he would surely perish if he had to control himself under Victor's lingering touch for one more second. Deciding that the former option was the least likely to cause his untimely death, Yuuri curled his fingers around the edge of the simple wooden door and pulling it ajar only enough to allow for a cursory examination of the hallway.

It was empty. Confusion contorting his face, Yuuri looked over his shoulder at Victor, signaling for him to stand. Their shoulders brushed as they rose and Yuuri could feel the flare of heat against his skin. Tempering his immediate desire to lean back into Victor's touch, Yuuri took a step into the hallway, tilting his head to silently request that Victor follow him. Speaking now would be a mistake, the amount of hidden dips and rivets in the underground portion of the tunnel able to hide any number of nefarious obstacles and Yuuri didn't want to risk alerting anyone who may still be in the building to their escape. Wrapping his fingers around Victor's wrist, he pulled him down the hallway, moving in a crouch as they hugged the wall.

The empty space smelled like mildewed dirt, with the scent of smoke clinging to the air, burning the inside of their nostrils. Silence filled the space around them, oppressive in nature, broken only by the light scraping of their footsteps and their unsteady breaths. The dirt of the walls was smudging at the touch of their backs, leaving streaks where their bodies accidently bumped too long. Neither of them spoke. Moving together, they made their way down the darkened hallway, falling into a steady rhythm with Yuuri confidently leading the way.

A single cry shattered the silence around them and Victor gasped as Yuuri pushed him back against the wall. Hand clamped over his mouth, fierce brown eyes bore into Victor's wide blue ones, commanding him to stay silent while Yuuri angled his head to listen.

Harsh Japanese made Yuuri shudder against Victor, the voice deep and full of menacing authority. The cry was stifled to a whimper and Yuuri recognized a familiar voice, fierce its response to the aggressor and then soothing in response to the childish whimpers. A sharp slap sound, distinctly identifiable as the sound of skin-on-skin made Yuuri's stomach curl in a swirling mass of sickness and anger. Balling his fist in the place where it rested against Victor's hip, he released Victor's mouth, raising his index finger against his lips to request Victor's silence.

At the sound of footsteps, Yuuri twisted his body, forcing Victor deeper into the crevice in the wall with the press of his back against Victor's chest. Blood pounded in his ears as the shadow of a man fell across the crevice opening, followed seconds later by the man himself.

Telling himself he was concerned with protecting Yuuri, Victor slipped his hand around Yuuri's waist, pressing his palm flat to Yuuri's abdomen. Under any other circumstances, Victor would have considered the move too forward, but seeing as they were likely going to die in the dirt-filled underground of some ancient castle, he figured he would steal whatever moments life presented him. Even in the tense minutes as they listened to the footsteps stomping down the walkway, Victor couldn't help the pleasure he felt with Yuuri under his fingertips. Tipping his head forward, Victor almost lost his control, barely catching himself a breath from Yuuri's shoulder where he was about to press a kiss.

Another cry, muted but still painfully scared, reached them from somewhere nearby. Bending forward at the waist, Yuuri peered out from their hiding place, discovering them once again alone. If he shifted his weight, unnecessarily rubbing his ass against where it was pressed firmly against Victor, he told himself it was merely to keep Victor safe from any impending danger. Feeling the flutter of Victor's fingertips against his stomach, Yuuri smirked before slipping back down the hallway and toward the direction of the ongoing whimpers.

Outside of another dank and age-swollen door, Yuuri paused again, rolling his eyes to keep himself from blushing when Victor returned to his position pressed behind Yuuri's back. It was slightly ridiculous how close Victor was holding himself, but Yuuri wasn't about to push him away. If these were his last moments on earth, he was going to soak up any attention Victor was going to offer.

A sob, high-pitched and distinctly childlike, broke the plane of the door, interrupting Yuuri's distracted thoughts. He recognized the sound, his body experiencing a visceral reaction to the sobs of a familiar child. It was unmistakably a child Yuuri had held in his arms only four hours after her birth, and patched booboos on her knees with kisses and Hello Kitty bandages. Only Lutz could produce such a heart-twisting cry, and Yuuri stormed forward into the room, ready to battle whoever was hurting her.

Startled grunts and a four-part harmony call of "Yuuri!" were the soundtrack of the first strike of Yuuri's fist to the unsuspecting guard. Ducking the lunge of another, Yuuri swung his leg in a circle, colliding with the back of the man's knees and sending him face first into a wall. Instead of scared squeals, the bound group in the middle of the room began to cheer, their mother attempting to shush them with a worried look.

Not one to let anyone else have all the fun, Victor sidestepped between Yuuri and an attacker attempting to tackle him from behind. Catching the man's neck in the crook of his elbow, Victor lifted him off his feet, slamming his back into the ground with a sickening crack as his bald head rapped against the floor. He remained unconscious, allowing Victor to step over him and meet the next assailant with a brutal fist to the bridge of his nose. The man hit the ground sputtering on his own blood, crying out when Victor snagged him by the sides of his face and introduced his already bloody face to the power of Victor's knee.

Throwing an elbow at a backwards angle, Yuuri heard the satisfying thud of a successful hit. Spinning on his heel, he unleashed his strength, boxing the man repeatedly in the side of the head until he joined the others in the bloodied pile of bodies on the floor.

"Yuuri!"

His stomach rolled as he heard Yuuko shout his name. Ramming his fist hard into the soft temple of his current opponent, Yuuri spun on his heel eyes falling on Yuuko's flailing body being dragged backwards toward the door. The girls were huddled into a back corner, Victor squatting next to them, working the knots tying their ropes free with his tongue pinched between his teeth. Reacting to Yuuko's second cry, Yuuri launched himself toward the wall, kicking off it and spinning in the air, landing a flying kick to the captor's side. Yuuko hit the ground, hand gripping at her throat.

Yuuri landed, wrapping his fingers into the man's collared shirt and hauling him to his feet. Slamming him into the wall, Yuuri demanded to know the whereabouts of Takeshi, growling the words in Japanese and slamming the man again when he remained silent.

A hand, soft and hesitant touched Victor's shoulder. Peering back at the woman who Yuuri had rescued, he struggled to find words to reassure her, pausing when the glint of blade caught his eye. "Yuuri!" he sprang to his feet, diving across the small room, hand outstretched and prepared to take the hit. Instead his fingers caught the man on the elbow, changing the blade's trajectory and slicing the skin above Yuuri's hip bone.

Roaring, Yuuri drove his forearm into the man's neck, jabbing his other arm across his body and seizing the hand holding the knife. Letting his anger cloud his judgement, Yuuri closed his fist, the sound of breaking bones filling the room as Yuuri crushed the man's fingers and twisted his wrist in an unnatural direction. Above him, the man's face went white, his airway restricted causing him to go limp against Yuuri's arm. Yuuri loosened his grip, letting the body slip onto the ground. Panting, Yuuri stepped back, hand clamping over his side as he fell back against the wall.

"Where is he?" Yuuri asked, breath ragged, eyes trained on the floor. He curled his fingers into his skin, the red of his blood seeping out around his knuckles and making his stomach roll.

Frozen on the ground, Victor starred at the blood running over Yuuri's hip. They made their livelihoods bloodying each other, but the sight of Yuuri, cut open and bleeding was ripping Victor's mind apart. He had tried to stop it and failed, the lightening quickness he was known for in the ring turning out to be absolutely no help in real combat. Unable to gather a cohesive thought, Victor continued to gape at the wound on Yuuri's side.

"I'm so sorry, Yuuri," Yuuko scrambled over the dirt floor, tripping on the hem of her dress as she pulled herself to her feet. "They were threatening me and the kids. These guys have been using us to manipulate Takeshi. I don't know what they want, but I know they forced him to have the competition here and they have been following us. They killed our bodyguards and took their places. I wanted to warn you, but every second since you arrived we have been watched. It's why we didn't come to the onsen before your fight, I didn't want to endanger your parents." Dropping to her knees, Yuuko began to cry, shoulders heaving with the overpowering emotions. "I'm so sorry, Yuuri, I'm so sorry."

Scuffling feet brought Yuuri's head up, the tears wet on his own cheeks as Axel, Lutz, and Loop crowded around their mother. Yuuko had been his childhood best friend, Takeshi as well once he grew out of his asshole phase, and these three little girls had been the first children Yuuri had truly loved. This family was as close to him as his own parents and sister and Yuuri found himself falling to his knees, using the arm not pressed to his side to pull his childhood friend to his chest.

"I'm going to find him, Yuuko," Yuuri whispered, wincing as her weight caused pressure on his torso. "I promise I am going to get you out of here and I'm going to find him."

"We," Victor spoke for the first time since he shouted Yuuri's name. Waiting until Yuuri met his eyes, Victor lifted his jaw, daring Yuuri to argue. "We are going to get them out of here. We are going to find your friend." Not backing down when Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, Victor inched forward to place a firm hand on Yuuri's shoulder. "We were supposed to fight the fight of our lives tonight. Together. So why don't we?"

Feeling the smirk pulling at the side of his mouth, Yuuri gave Victor a curt nod. "First, we get them out of here, then we find Takeshi. You ready for this, Nikiforov?" he teased, eyes twinkling as they challenged Victor's, the pain in his side burning with every breath and his head spinning with all the promises he was making.

"As ready as you are," Victor pushed back, eyes flicking down to Yuuri's side. Plastering a fake smile over his face to hide his immense worry over Yuuri's injury, he turned to look at the little girls peering at him from their mother's side. "Ready to do a castle run?" he asked, pulling out his very limited knowledge about children's games. He let his laughter slip when all three of them groaned.

"You are in love with a guy who makes terrible jokes, Yuuri-ji-chan," Axel joked, the relief of Victor's humor amid the tense situation evidenced in her smile.

"Axel!" Yuuko, Lutz, and Loop exclaimed at once, all of them glaring daggers in her direction as Axel shrugged her shoulders.

Yuuri turned red, blushing into his hairline and purposely squeezing his wound to cover up his embarrassed squawk. Shoving off the ground, Yuuri shook his head, leaning toward the door. "Alright, let's get you out of here before you cause any more trouble." He refused to look at Victor, using his shoulder to push open the door and flicking his head to indicate that the group follow him.

Dazed and reeling from little Axel's words, Victor followed the group, praying that he and Yuuri would live long enough for him to find out if the cheeky child was telling the truth.