The Skater and the Beast: A Yuri On Ice AU

Prologue

There is a story, a story passed down through village and village throughout all of Japan. A story about a beast. This story started out as a soldier's tale, a vision sealed in the brain of a poor young man who had seen something he shouldn't have. He had been simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. His young quivering voice, sliced into sections with pants and deep breaths, spread throughout his small farming village as quickly as if he had yelled it through a microphone. Then, it multiplied, some voices lower, some higher, some raspy, some smooth, but all of them saying the same thing. Soon, it had spread through the many provinces, though not without repercussions: many words had been changed, which in turn changed the details. Hands had been changed to claws, hair to fur, teeth to fangs. The young soldier had heard about these changes, but hadn't dared to correct them.

Soon, this story had met the ears of a certain man, cloaked in the corner of a local pub.

Eyes of blood, voice like the crack of thunder, and an insatiable hunger. These were the lies that spread.

The cloaked figure had said nothing, instead slipping out of the room without drawing an inch of attention to themselves. Their mind was hard at work, processing the words over and over like a machine. 

Beast....

The stories were as followed: A beast once wronged and shoved under the surface of a heart of ice lurked in the woods, shrouded by shadows and overgrown vines. He spent his life locked away behind giant metal gates of rusted iron, in a large castle that everyone knew of but they'd rather it be left forgotten. Anybody who approached this castle would be torn to shreds.

Hasetsu Castle, formerly a 'ninja house', as they had called it, had been one of the town's pride and joy. A good hour away from the nearest houses, pleasurable cart rides had been offered to travelers. Once there, they could fawn over the majesty of the building on top of a hill of trees and forests. Over the years, however, its bright colors had darkened and faded, along with the glory it had once brought the people. Now, it lay abandoned, forgotten, miles from the nearest civilization, tucked away by a wall of vines and large rusted gates. Many had tried to get through this 'barrier', but none has succeeded. Their fear of what may lurk inside held them back, so no body even bothered to try to get in anymore. Because in their heads, they already knew. 

The ice rink, which had sat at the bottom of the hill on which the castle was mounted, had gone out of business years ago. Now, it too was overgrown, dirty, and unused. The entire hill, which had been nicknamed 'hell's icehouse' and all the empty buildings on it had been placed under one rule, one unspoken law that wasn't official but still followed: 

No one was to go there. 

This story continued to spread for a few years, but the further it reached, the more far fetched it became. Soon, it was considered nothing more than a myth, a children's story. A tale to scare infants into going to sleep, a story mocked by drunken villagers late in a pub, a complete and utter joke. The only people who still truly believed this tale were the ones who had been living in Hasetsu before it was abandoned. Nobody else took it seriously. Nobody else believed in it, until it became forgotten, unrecognizable, dead. 

Nobody actually believed this hell's icehouse was real. 

Nobody.