The lights, the sounds, the cold, all of it dimmed out when his foot hit the ice. Strange for him, but a welcome unfamiliarity. It helped him block everything out and focus on the performance.
'Just breathe. In, and out. This isn't about you anymore, you're performing for the audience. You can't let your fans down. You can't let him down.' He told himself. It helped take the edge off his anxiety. A little bit anyway, but any relief was greatly appreciated. He dove into his routine, pouring his heart and soul out on the ice, laid bare for all the world to see. But about halfway through, something changed. Awareness came back, drowning him in a sea of flashing lights, cheering fans, and nameless faces just waiting for him to fail. And with it, a wave of realization crashed over him. He had forgot something, something important.
'Not important now. Just keep going.' He told himself, steeling his nerves against the rising anxiety wrapping his heart in a cold iron grip. Not important now, not important here. Just keep breathing. Keep going. And he did, until he got to the climax of his performance. He could tell the moment his feet left the ice that something was wrong. He didn't have enough momentum in his spin. The audience realized quickly that something was wrong, because he heard startled gasps and murmurs of concern in his hyperaware state. Then the ice was coming straight to his face, alarmingly quickly. He closed his eyes and attempted to twist his body to right himself but his history of ballet failed him in this moment. It couldn't save him from the fall. He didn't feel it at first when his head bounced off the ice, but he did hear a distant scream. Then several more as the audience started to see the growing pool of red under his head. The lights became too bright all of a sudden, the sounds overwhelming, and he closed his eyes in response to the overstimulation. That's when the pain set in, a horrible throbbing that he couldn't identify the source of. He heard someone run to his side, felt himself be lifted by familiar, strong arms into a warm chest. He opened his eyes briefly to catch a glimpse of ashen grey hair, the words the man was shouting at him lost in a sea of other sounds. But above all the tin, he heard the announcer.
"Katsuki Yuuri has fallen during his performance!"
