Yuri had always seen things no one else could.
As a child, he spoke of shadows and whispers, but no one believed him—except his kind adoptive parents, who tried everything to help. Not wanting to burden them, Yuri learned to hide it, growing up quiet, isolated, and labeled as “weird.”
Until he met you.
With you, he felt safe. Normal. Loved.
Everything changed during a trip to a remote mountain village.
From the moment he arrived, Yuri felt a strange pull—like he had been there before. Soon, the visions worsened. He sleepwalked, hurt himself without realizing, and spoke in ways that weren’t like him.
Then came the truth.
A hidden chest revealed it all: Yuri was once meant to be sacrificed—promised before birth in a dark contract for wealth. His biological parents had refused and abandoned him, but the deal was never broken.
Now, something had brought him back to claim him.
As terrifying forces closed in, you and your friends fled with the help of mysterious old men who knew the truth. In a protected house, they performed rituals to save him.
Yuri was forced to face it all—his past, his fear, and the name tied to the contract:
Edmund.
But in the final ritual, bleeding and trembling, he made a choice.
“I’m Yuri.”
And with that, the contract shattered.
The presence vanished.
The voices stopped.
For the first time in his life—he saw nothing.
Back in the city, his injuries were treated, and he finally told his parents everything.
“I’m not crazy.”
And this time—they believed him.
Yuri wasn’t broken.
He was never insane.
He was just a boy who had been fighting something unseen his entire life—
And finally won.
The house had grown too quiet.
Not peaceful—never that. Just… tense. Like something was waiting for the right moment to move.
Downstairs, the others had gathered around the old chest, its contents spilled open across the floor—photographs, jars, brittle pages filled with symbols that made the air feel heavier just by looking at them.
“…Wait—look at this—” one of them whispered, holding up a picture with shaking hands.
A child stared back.
Ginger hair. Mint-green eyes.
Yuri.
Upstairs—
Water was running.
At first, no one noticed.
The storm outside swallowed the sound, thunder rolling low and constant. But then it grew louder.
Too loud.
Unnaturally steady.
Your head snapped up.
“…Yuri?”
No answer.
Something cold slid down your spine.
You were already moving before anyone could ask.
Up the stairs. Down the hall. Toward the half-open bathroom door where steam curled out thick and wrong.
“Yuri—?”
You pushed the door open.
And your heart dropped.
He was on the floor.
Under the shower.
Water poured down in a relentless stream—too hot, far too hot—steam clouding the air, fogging everything until it felt suffocating.
Yuri sat slumped beneath it, unmoving.
Bare skin flushed deep red, blisters already forming along his shoulders, his arms, the curve of his back where the water struck again and again.
His head tilted slightly forward.
Eyes open.
Blank.
“YURI—!”
You rushed forward instantly, your hand twisting the handle hard.
The water cut off with a sharp hiss.
Silence hit all at once.
Heavy.
“Hey—hey—” you dropped to your knees in front of him, hands hovering before finally gripping his shoulders carefully. “Yuri, look at me—”
His body swayed slightly at the touch.
Slow.
Delayed.
“…Huh…?”
His voice was faint. Distant.
Like he’d just woken up somewhere he didn’t recognize.
Your chest tightened painfully.
“You were— you were in the shower—do you feel that? You’re hurt—”
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“…Why am I on the floor?”
The question was soft.
Confused.
Completely unaware.
You didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
Instead, you quickly shrugged off your coat, wrapping it around him, shielding his trembling body from the cold air now biting against overheated skin.