a/n: Just a random angsty little OtaYuri idea thing that came to mind.
~Chapter : 0 ~
He soared off the ice into a graceful twirl, his body suspended in a breathless moment of perfection before touching back down. His blonde locks flow about freely and there is a look of genuine grief on his face as he transitions into yet another jump.
The crowd roars.
His fangirls clutch at their chests as the Russian Fairy dances.
Yuuri Katsuki is in complete awe at the transformation.
Victor's eyes never leave the nineteen year old's form, his fist unknowingly clenched at his side. He remembers how four years ago he'd asked the young boy to show vulnerability. But the look of sheer desperation on Yuri's face only made the knot in his throat intensify.
The music cuts short, the blond raises his hands up towards the air, heaving for air in his ever familiar Agape. His eyes catch a figure at the far corner of the stadium, catches the tiger patterned hoodie just as it turns it's back on him and recedes away. In the next moment, the young Russian fell on his knees, a full-on trembling and sobbing mess-much like when he had finished his grand prix routine all those years ago.
The crowd roars, blissfully unaware of the weight on those slender shoulders of his.
As the slumped figure rises himself up and makes his way off the ice with bitter tears in his eyes, not even JJ's calling him a Princess caused him to retaliate.
The results were announced, people thumped his back, he didn't resist when Victor and Yuuri pulled him into a suffocating group hug and uncharacteristic to him, he let his lips pull into a false smile. The faintest tug at the corner of his mouth that seemed so misplaced that it made Yuuri shiver.
Yuri Plisetsky, at that moment, only felt one emotion- numbness.
"The Russian punk... seems so different, now! Shouldn't he he be yelling and picking fights all over the place?"
"..."
"Well, he should atleast try to look happy on thr podium!"
"Maybe, he's still in character? From his performance? It can be hard on young people, especially when they portrayed it so perfectly."
"What was it, the theme?"
"Loss."
""Oh..."