I Want To Make You Proud


Hi everyone! Here's another Yuri. P/Otayuri angsty sickfic for you! This takes place in an "AU" where everything is the same except Yuri is 18 and Otabek has moved to Russia to live and train with Yuri. This fanfic is all written out so I will be updating with new chapters every week!

For the record I'm not trying to glorify or romanticize anorexia and pushing yourself past your limits. Please take care of yourself and if you need help please seek it! You are loved and important. 3

If you would like to leave a review I would appreciate your feedback. As usual, all characters belong to their creators. Enjoy!


Chapter 1 - Determination Turns Into Obsession

Thoughts of the upcoming Grand Prix Final made it hard for Yuri to care about anything else. 'More power, more height, more speed' repeated over and over in his mind, much like annoying song stuck in his head. The first thing he focused on was his speed. Morning jogs, running laps around the indoor track, and skating laps around the rink to improve his cardio. Soon the cold air of the rink scraped his skin raw causing his cheeks to become red and dry, his face stinging when his long hair would whip against it. His leg muscles gently nagged at him and pleaded for rest, which he continued to ignore.

Stretching provided little relief for his aching body. At first it was a bit distracting and it pulled Yuri's concentration away from him, but soon enough the feeling of dull, constant pain became a part of him. He tried to will himself to focus but fatigue clung to him like wet clothing, disorienting him when he tried to perform in Lilia Baranovskaya's ballet classes. When it was time to do a Grand Jeté he lost his balance and fell hard onto his side, earning himself an impressive bruise. Normally his strict teacher would tell him to persevere but instead she insisted that he go home and take the rest of the day off. However, Yuri was too determined and convinced her he was okay despite her concern.

The next day his teammates asked how he was feeling after hearing about his fall. Looking past them he muttered, "I'm fine. Let's get on with training already." Yuri was too disconnected to notice his friend's worried glances to each other. Taking off his blade guards he threw them aside and glided to the center of the rink, calling to Yakov to start the music a few seconds after his pose. He raised his left arm, holding a delicate position while his head angled downwards in contemplation. A hard gaze present instead of the serene expression designed for his routine. Clear and somber, the violin notes reached his ears and he started into motion. His once raised hand glided down to his chest as he pivoted and swept across the rink. He gained speed for his first jump, a triple toe loop, which he executed perfectly. Suddenly the once clear notes became muffled, as if he was submerged underwater, and he could no longer hear them. Keep it together! Yuri shook his head and continued on. Crap, what part am I at? What's next again?

"-atchka! Yuratchka!" Yakov is fuming. "Get over here!" Temper flaring so much that you could practically see the heat waves emanating from his scarlet face. Yuri shook his head again in an attempt to focus on where the yelling is coming from. "YuriPlisetsky! Get over here NOW!" Oh shit. He used his full name. Yuri glided over to his coach, already annoyed that he was interrupted.

"What?" Yuri snapped. Probably not the best approach but his patience is wearing thin lately, even for him.

"What were you doing out there? Your timing was completely wrong! Can't you hear the music or have you been listening to that damned music player too loud again?"

"I'm sorry, alright? Just start from the beginning." With a wave of his hand Yuri turned his back on his furious coach and took his starting position once more.

As the days go on Yuri becomes more tired, less focused, more impatient. He spends his days at the rink or ballet, coming home late at night to take care of his cat Potya and to sleep, even if only for a few hours before his daily morning run. When forced to take his lunch breaks, more often than not, he'd end up falling asleep and throwing away his food. Soon his teammates could sense something was wrong with their youngest skater. Georgi offered to take him out for dinner so that he would eat something. Victor brought him water bottles in an attempt to get him to sit and chat so he could rest. Yuuri brought him homemade katsudon and even Mila stopped her relentless teasing, but despite their best efforts Yuri unknowingly continued on his downward spiral.


"Do you want to go?" Otabek asked.

"Hmmm?" Yuri's head slipped out of his hand as he leaned on the lunch table, blinking in an attempt to clear his mind so he could focus on what his boyfriend was saying.

"I asked if you wanted to go see a movie with me this Friday night."

If Otabek was annoyed Yuri couldn't tell. He could never really tell how Otabek felt with that handsome, expressionless face of his, and his strong jaw…

"Oh sorry! I kind of spaced out," Yuri admitted, "Uh yeah… we can go, but I should get back to practice. I'll see you later." As he got up he reached out and squeezed Otabek's shoulder.

Otabek watched as his boyfriend walked out of the lunchroom, leaving behind a full plate of food again. Has he gotten thinner?

The days blurred together, his muscles ached longer, and his fatigue worsened. He would find himself in random areas of the training facility, not remembering how he got there or why. He couldn't land his jumps, which were always under rotated, as he lacked the strength to power them. Because of that Yuri blamed himself and his skill level, vowing to work even harder despite his body's protest. After the fifth try to land a quadruple Salchow he exited the rink feeling defeated, sitting on the floor to stretch his burning calves and thighs.


"Are you ready to go?" Seemingly invisible to him Otabek stood in front of the Russian skater. Frowning, he bent over and waved his gloved hand in Yuri's face.

"Ah! What do you want?" Yuri yelled, startled. Had Otabek tried to sneak up on him like that?

"I asked if you're ready to go to the movie." Otabek repeated. He was all ready to go, wearing his leather jacket and those fingerless gloves that Yuri found so sexy and always brought back fond memories of his exhibition skate. He held one helmet in his arm and the other was placed on the floor beside Yuri.

"Shit! That's today?" Yuri cursed and bolted up, staggering as he lost his balance. Yuri felt a strong hand grip his shoulder to steady him.

"If you're not feeling up to it we can go a different da-."

"No! It's not that," Yuri interjected, "You go ahead. I'll meet you there."

Otabek huffed; he wasn't convinced but agreed anyways. "If you say so. I'll see you by 6:30 pm then."

7:00 pm

Otabek sighed as he shoved his phone into his back pocket. He hated being late and hated others being late even more. He turned on his heels and stormed out of the theatre, he better have a good explanation for this, he repeated in his mind.

He's underwater again. He can't hear the music. His limbs are slow to react to the commands he is giving them, making him stumble rather than glide across the ice. In his frustration tears blur his vision and yet he keeps going. To the untrained eye he would look graceful, but Yuri holds himself to a much higher standard.

The doors to the ice rink fly open with a loud bang as Otabek strides in huffing and scowling, eyes darting to where Yuri is skating. The sudden bang of the doors pull Yuri out of his deep concentration and he falls hard on his backside, screaming in shock more than pain. In an instant Otabek's anger vanished and he rushed to Yuri's side while trying to keep his balance as he shuffled out on the ice.

"Yura are you hurt?" His deep voice echoed in the empty rink while he extended his hand for support.

"Yeah I- fuck! The movie!" Yuri withdrew his hand, bringing both together to lace his fingers behind his head as he curled into himself. "Dammit I forgot again. Crap… I'm sorry Beka, I'm a shitty boyfriend."

Otabek kneeled down to envelope Yuri in a warm hug from behind. "It's not like you to forget. Are you really okay?"

Yuri shivered as Otabek's warm breath tickled his neck, "Yeah, just tired I guess. We'll try again soon alright?"

"Sure." Otabek stood in front of Yuri, holding out his hand again.

Yuri grasped his outstretched arm, wincing as he got up. He couldn't help the small cry when he felt a sharp twinge of pain in his back.

"Let's go home. I'll get pain meds and an ice pack ready for you." The Kazakh promised, wrapping his arm around Yuri's back to hold him steady.

"I'm really fine," Yuri started but was cut short by Otabek's glare. "Alright, alright… I could use it."


His whole body hurt but this time it was different. It seemed as if his very soul throbbed with pain. His legs seared with a burning sensation and he felt like he was constantly being stabbed in the back with a knife. His bones felt as if they were made of hollow metal, vibrating when shock waves moved through him every time he landed. His heart was beating so fast he felt like it could explode any second. He was unraveling.

Otabek watched from the sidelines. He thought Yuri looked so elegant and graceful, despite visibly shaking from the strain.He looks cat-like, even catching himself from falling like a cat does. Otabek mused.

Yuri jumped when he heard a husky voice calling his name.

"You coming?" Otabek asked, motioning to the locker room.

"I'm going to stay longer. I'll see you at home." Yuri replied as he skated away, quickly gaining speed. He was determined to land that quadruple Salchow no matter how long it took.

Otabek nodded and frowned slightly. He knew that Yuri was pushing himself too hard again, that much was obvious, but he also knew Yuri would get angry if he tried to convince him to leave before he felt ready. Despite Yuri's fall the day before Otabek figured it was best to just let him be, but he couldn't shake this nagging, uneasy feeling in his chest. "Okay Yura. See you at home."

He calmly walked to the locker room but once out of Yuri's sight he staggered onto the bench by his locker. He dragged his hand down his face and let out a deep sigh, feeling the full effects of the pain and exhaustion he managed to keep at bay during practice. While he changed out of his clothes the same nagging feeling crept up on him again, pulling down from his throat. He got out his phone and wrote, [Please keep an eye on Yuri. He's pushing himself too hard again today.] Wrapping his thick winter scarf around his neck he walked out onto the cold streets of Saint Petersburg. When was the last time Yura ate? He wondered. He's going to burn out if he keeps skipping meals like this. Suddenly he got an idea. Making a sharp turn he headed in a different direction.

Wait for it… now! Yuri spun in the air once, twice, three times before making a hard landing. "DAMN IT!" he hissed, quickly gliding over to the barrier. He slammed into it much harder than he anticipated, knocking the air out of his lungs. Slumping over the wall he took in shaky breaths as he desperately gasped for air. Yuri's expression contorted into one of pure anguish while hot tears surfaced at the corners of his eyes and he let out a choked cry. Eyes widening at the sudden sound he quickly covered his mouth and rested his head on the barrier, quietly sobbing and his chest still heaving.

"Are you alright Yurio?" A familiar voice called out. Yuri turned his head, despite his blurry vision he could make out the silhouette of the Japanese figure skater walking towards him.

Gathering what was left of his composure he looked up. "W-what do you want… piggy?" Yuri managed to scoff through labored breath.

"I got a text that you were still practicing so I came to check on you. I'm not the only one who is worried you're overexerting yourself you know." Yuuri's voice was calm but stern. It caught him off guard.

"I'm fine! Don't underestimate me." Yuri huffed, but as he made his way to exit the rink his legs gave out and he fell. Strong arms caught him before his head hit the ledge.

"You're not fine Yuri, listen to me. Take the day off tomorrow. I'll tell Yakov you're not well." Yuuri said coolly as he helped him up and walked him over to the nearby bench. Sitting down beside him Yuuri placed a comforting hand on the blond man's shoulder, brow furrowing when the teen didn't shrug him off. "You know, you could seriously injure yourself if you keep this up. If you get hurt then you won't be able to compete and this will all be for nothing." Yuri opened his mouth to reply but all he could do was hang his head. He knew the other skater was right but he would never admit it, especially to Katsudon.

"Why are you pushing yourself so hard?" Yuuri asked. Yuri clenched his jaw and continued to stare at his skates. "Do you feel even more pressure to win gold again now that Victor is competing?"

"I'm not YOU Katsudon!" Yuri snapped, turning his head to stare down the other skater. "I just… I need to be the best. I don't want to let Russia down. I don't want to let-" He stopped himself, surprised he admitted that much already.

Yuuri stood up, "I'm going to get you some water." The younger skater tried to follow but a firm hand pushed him back down. "Don't. Rest some more. I don't want to find you collapsed on the floor when I get back."

Yuri scoffed, but his expression quickly turned solemn as he wondered how bad he looked if the Japanese piggy was bossing him around. Wincing, he took off his skates and threw them aside. A shiver ran down his aching body as he became aware of the fact that he was drenched in his cooling sweat. Grabbing his team Russia jacket he wrapped it around himself and brought his legs up to his chest. Maybe I should take the day off tomorrow, Yuri pondered. His stomach growled loudly, abruptly bringing him out of his thoughts. Did I forget to eat again? What time is it? All he could focus on was the sobering realization that he was, in fact, being reckless. Letting out a sigh he wrapped his arms around his legs and pulled them closer to his body. Yuuri returned with a water bottle and bent down in front of the blonde, looking him in straight the eyes.

"Here you go," Yuuri handed over the water, "Are you feeling alright? You look more pale than usual."

Yuri didn't respond right away, which worried Yuuri even more. Usually he has some snarky comment to say.

Adverting his gaze the younger man slowly got up, picked up his skates, and turned towards the locker room, "I'm just hungry." Looking back he lifted up the water bottle, "Thanks."

Yuuri smiled and nodded, but his expression soon fell as the other man turned around. He rubbed the back of his neck and headed towards the exit.

Yuri limped over to his locker, his knees burning from when he collapsed on the ice. He looked in the mirror stuck to the inside of his locker door. "Holy crap. I look like shit." Yuri admitted as he leaned in for a closer look. The bags under his eyes were a sickly shade of purple and his eyes puffy and red from crying. His golden hair stuck to his pale face and his cheekbones that are more pronounced than before. Have I been losing weight? Yuri stumbled over to the scale in the corner, dropping his water bottle on the floor in his haste. He weighed himself, a sinking feeling emerged in his stomach as the number appeared. "I've lost 4 kilos. Crap, this isn't good." His shaking hands found their way to his hips, grazing over the protruding bones. He lifted up his shirt and gasped when he saw big bruises forming on his skin from when he slammed into the barrier, adding to his fading yellow one from ballet. He pulled his shirt back down to conceal the splotches on his skin. Making his way back to his locker he reached for his street clothes, which fell to the ground when he lost his grip. The room spun when bent down to pick them up and he fell, sprawling out on the cold tile floor. Groaning, Yuri rolled onto his back and squeezed his eyes shut, lying there for while too exhausted and dizzy to get up. He had been in denial for so long and took the Ice Tiger of Russia persona too seriously. A tear ran down the side of his face as he truly accepted the fact that he needs help. "Otabek… I'm sorry. I should have gone with you."