There are times when you have to take a plot bunny out behind the shed and quietly do away with it before it eats everything in sight. So when I was hit with an awful, soul-crushing fusion idea for Yuri!!! on Ice and Puella Magi Madoka Magica -- in which Yuri Plisetsky is essentially Akemi Homura, a once sweet and charming child turned bitter and cold-hearted by a thousand failed timeloops in which he's been unable to stop his friends from dying or turning into witches -- I had to bash out this ficlet and throttle the concept at the source.

Tidied up from the original anon posting at fail_fandomanon. Title from the Madoka ED Magia by Kalafina. Some text modified from Madoka EP 10. Warning for Madoka-canon-typical violent character death.


I Am the Sleepless Tomorrow

For most magicas, the feeling of a Grief Seed touching their Soul Gem, drawing out the writhing, swirling darkness within it to leave it bright and shining once more, was nothing short of a sweet relief. For Yuri, however, it always felt like something was being scraped out of him, the thinnest of tortures, the faint cruel strokes of a blade beneath his skin opening his wounds afresh. Because every time, without fail, it conjured up the memory of Yuuri Katsuki's pained but gentle smile as he selfishly used his sole remaining Grief Seed to cleanse Yuri's Soul Gem.

You can go back in time, right, Yurio?

One of Yuuri's hands, letting the used-up Grief Seed slip free to fall to the ground. The other hand, the one that hadn't been holding the Grief Seed, still entwined with Viktor's cold, stiff fingers.

You can go back and change everything...so that we don't end up like this....

Yuuri's head turned towards him, his glasses cracked and askew, his smile starting to waver as a solitary tear slid down the side of his cheek. Viktor's head turned away from him, from them, though Yuri was glad for any excuse to not let his eyes be drawn to the blackened gaping nightmare of bone and flesh and cloth that had once been Viktor Nikiforov's chest.

Don't let Kyubey trick me again.

In that instant, Yuri would have sold his soul to Kyubey without hesitation for a chance to make that wish come true. But with his soul already locked in its green crystal prison, now free of any trace of that oily-black contamination that was making Yuuri's Soul Gem grow darker by the second, what choice did he have but to sell his heart instead?

Can I ask...one more thing?

It's the Makarov that Yuri pulls out from the limitless depths of the sandglass-shield on his wrist. Ancient but reliable, with the safety that both Yuuri and Viktor had insisted on when Yuri first started to collect the pieces of his own private arsenal. He can barely see through the tears in his eyes as he disengages the safety, but when he blinks rapidly to clear them as he levels the pistol and lines up the sight, Yuuri's own eyes are fluttering shut, on the brink of his last terrible transformation.

There are awful, horrible things in this world...

Every detail of that moment, engraved on his memory like gouges in crazed, rotten ice. Resurfacing every time Yuri lets a Grief Seed draw just enough despair out of his heart and soul to keep going into the next witch's labyrinth, the next competition, the next apocalypse at the Grand Prix Final.

...but there are a lot of things worth protecting, too.

And every time it does, he smiles.


Note

Credit for the term magica as the male equivalent of Madoka's puella magi goes to Nardaviel's devastatingly good Boueibu/Madoka fusion Spindle.


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