A/N: First Immortal Rain fic. Yuca is my favourite character, enough said. Enjoy!

There are scattered bits of paper floating like beads of water in the boundless atmosphere. Brown-coloured bits of ancient handwriting in the form of a foreign language wrap themselves around his tongue, engulfing him in a heavy pit of what can only be called despair in such cruel reality. His previous identities swim around in his head like colourless souls drowning in the present. There is only one voice he listens to.

Scattered bits of paper in a previous life. He remembers each fleeting moment vividly—

For maximum damage, you aim for the heart.

They are words from his very first life; a lesson of battle, a lesson in war. Simply his commanding superior, and surrounding him a crowd of eager students; classmates. He closes his eyes and remembers. The rough drawing of a human body on the board. The lessons of anatomy (the ventricles and chambers cannot function without each other). Everything is interconnected. Everything.

He remembers being lazy. He remembers sleeping through classes, laughing with friends, and the distinct smell of pine. He also remembers waking up in the middle of class, light-headed and drowsy as the teacher points to him, demanding an answer.

Yuca, he says, a scorn crossing his face. Repeat what I have just told the class.

He remembers rolling his eyes and shrugging his shoulders. It wasn't important to him. He just wanted his sleep.

Main arteries! The teacher throws his hands in the air. Aim for the main arteries! He walks to Yuca and leans his face down so that his eyes bore right into Yuca's own.

Remember this, you little bastard.

And so, Yuca also remember leaving the classroom that day with only one line of notes; perhaps the first, ever—maximum damage, aim for the heart.

The heart.

He opens his eyes and walks to the table where a dearest, old friend lies. Perfection. Yuca runs his hands through the man's hair and taps the pads of his fingers against the pale, smooth skin. "For maximum damage," Yuca repeats, leans right down next to the unconscious man's ear, "aim for the heart."

The heart. His heart. Yuca almost hesitates. His fingers tremble. His breath quickens. "I'm sorry," he gasps. "I—I'm sorry." He breathes these words, hanging onto them as though if he'd let them go, they would never return. "Forgive me. Please, please forgive me."

I need to be saved.

The words remind themselves and Yuca stands forward, stands straight, once more.

"Hello," he whispers. A small smile forms on his face. "Hello, Rain." He watches for the faint flutter of the eyelids and wonders what he will do, what he will say, once he wakes up.

"Awaken, Methuselah."

For maximum damage, aim for The Heart.

Yuca falls to his knees as the realization hits, finally, finally—because it hadn't been Rain's heart he was attacking.

The Heart; his heart.