Rosy Skies (Otayuri)

Morning

To his frustration, Yuri couldn't seem to forget the merman. It seemed that he was constantly floating through the back of his head, tormenting him with his dark eyes and quiet expression.

Yuri's eating habits grew even poorer than before. He became unhealthily frail and thin, hardly able to swallow a bite because of his nausea. He couldn't seem to get any sleep either, and when he did manage to, it was restless and shallow.

His grandfather soon took notice of the purple shadows under Yuri's eyes, the way that he hardly touched his meals, and how he rarely went to the effort of changing his clothes. Concerned, Nikolai inquired what Yuri had experienced on the beach that had affected him so. Yuri just muttered that it was mostly uneventful, and that he was perfectly fine.

He could tell that Nikolai didn't buy it, but was relieved that the matter wasn't pressed any further. As much as he disliked lying to his grandfather, what was he supposed to say? That he felt ill because he couldn't stop thinking about a captivating man he had rescued; one that wasn't even the same species as himself?

No. Instead, he told nobody about the events of that night. Having the mer's face ingrained into his mind was bad enough, and he didn't want to relive the final moments of the two men that he had killed. Their deaths weighed on his consciousness like lead. Although Yuri tried to remind himself that they would have left the merman to die and would have probably killed him too, he couldn't quell the guilt he harbored in his belly. Sometimes, he had horrific nightmares in which he relived the incident, crimson blood dripping down his sword and pooling in the sand.

Even spending time in his garden barely gave him any solace. It had always been a sanctuary where he could relax, but now he found it impossible to gain some peace of mind. Yuri felt too sick to tend to his flowers properly, and his garden soon fell into ruin in spite of his best efforts. Instead of reaching toward the heavens, his weed-choked plants drooped and wilted. The rose vines overran the arch they were climbing up, twisting their tangled tendrils tightly around it. The pathway filled in with tall, sharp grass.

Suddenly, the place that Yuri had loved most in the whole world had become foreign.

Eventually, Nikolai convinced his grandson to allow a physician to examine him. Yuri begrudgingly accepted, if only to make his grandfather happy. The doctor called it "a most peculiar case." He diagnosed Yuri with malnourishment and sleep-deprivation; however, both of those were merely symptoms. The cause remained a mystery to everyone besides Yuri himself. Although he was partially in denial, he knew exactly what the problem was. The physician suggested that Yuri should try and get some rest. 'Wow, thanks,' Yuri thought bitterly.

Once the doctor had left, Yuri could hear him speaking to grandfather in hushed tones. He didn't catch everything that they said, but he did make out the words "die soon" and "nothing I can do."

Yuri knew that he was correct, and the reality of the situation was terrifying. He kept having dizzy spells, clinging to banisters to keep from toppling over. Something needed to be done, but he had no idea what or how. Once again, he found himself utterly helpless.

Every single day, he made his way down to the beach in hopes of seeing the merman; he never did. There weren't even tell-tale abnormal splashes or the glisten of scales. He began to worry that the mer hadn't survived. The thought was driving him crazy, gnawing away at him.

Yuri began desperately poring over the volumes in the royal library in search of a solution. Out of more than a hundred dusty tomes, he found nothing. Sometimes he'd think that he had found something that would work, but, on closer inspection, found it completely useless.