"Viktor! Please be my coach for one more year! This time, I will win gold for sure!"
"No."
The smile faded and the color drained from Yuri's face. "Eh…?"
"No, Yuri." said Viktor. "I have decided to return to skating and I need to focus on my comeback. I can't possibly do that and remain as your coach."
Yuri was in shock. His whole body felt numb. He could only sit there wide-eyed and stare unblinkingly at Viktor. He had seen Viktor's lips moving, he had heard the words coming from those lips…but his brain seemed to be having a hard time actually processing what had been said.
"Ah, Yuri…don't make that face." said a seemingly exasperated Viktor. "You were determined to retire after the Grand Prix so that I could return to skating. You made your decision, so I made mine. We need to end this."
Yuri's mouth was dry and his throat felt like it was stuffed with sand. He didn't feel like he was physically able to speak at that moment, so he nodded weakly instead.
"I knew you'd understand." smiled Viktor. "This is goodbye, Yuri."
Viktor stood up, turned around and walked away. A strangled sob rose up in Yuri's throat. He reached out to Viktor with his right hand. Viktor, don't go. Please don't leave me! For a split second, it seemed as if Viktor's stride had faltered sligthly and he would turn back around.
Yuri's heart skipped a beat.
Instead, Viktor turned the corner and then was gone. As his eyes followed Viktor out, a flash of gold caught Yuri's eye. He looked down at his outstretched hand and spotted the gold ring on his finger.
He was hit with such a sudden wave of nausea that he had to cover his mouth with both hands to stop the rising bile. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to breathe. Yuri stood up awkwardly and stumbled out into the hallway. He leaned one hand on the nearest wall and hung his head as he gasped for breath painfully. His eyes darted around manically. Where is it? Where?! He finally spotted the sign for the men's room and hobbled off clumsily. He still had his skates on, and although the blade guards were on, it still made getting around quite difficult.
He burst into the bathroom and nearly slipped on the tiled floor. He dove into the first available stall and retched pitifully into the bowl. The acid burned his throat and left a foul acrid taste in his mouth. His eyes were watering and it took Yuri a few seconds of fumbling blindly before he found his target. He flushed the toilet and then leaned back against the stall wall.
His breaths were heaving and his lungs throbbed with the effort. His whole body was screaming for air, but he just couldn't seem to get enough of it in. He looked down disdainfully at his skates, as if suddenly irritated by the sight of them, and began unlacing them. Once loosened, he took them off and pushed them haphazardly to the corner of the stall. Next came the socks. He took off both of his black socks and saw that his right foot was bleeding. A closer inspection revealed that the toenail on his big toe had fallen right off.
He waited for the pain to hit him, but none came. At the moment he simply felt…nothing. Actually, no…he felt cold. A sweeping coldness had started in the pit of his stomach and seemed to be spreading out to his extremities. Numb. Everything was becoming blissfully...numb. He shoved both socks into a skate and slowly stood up.
Yuri walked over to the sink and rinsed his mouth out with water. He looked up at the mirror and did not recognize the face staring back at him. He was pale, clammy and sweaty. His slicked-back hairstyle had begun to lose its shape and cowlicks had formed in just about every direction. His pupils were like two brown voids. His eyes looked emotionless and vacant.
He dried his hands on some paper towels and ambled out of the bathroom. He shuffled along unblinkingly on his bare feet, unsure of where they would take him. Did he have anywhere to go? No, he did not. It was all over. Without Viktor, there was nothing left anywhere for him.
Viktor…the name brought tears to his eyes. He had wanted to be with Viktor forever. He had wanted Viktor to be happy. His two wants were a paradox. Yuri had convinced himself that the two things he wanted most in life would never be able to co-exist realistically on the same plane. Viktor needed to be back on the ice and Yuri was not worthy enough to keep Viktor from the world. He would not, could not be the one who killed Viktor as a competitor.
He had been mentally preparing himself for this exact outcome. He had convinced himself that he was doing it all for Viktor's sake. He had made his peace. But then he had ended up with the silver medal. He had suddenly felt like he could make Viktor even prouder if he just had another chance. He had allowed himself to hope.
"No."
And his dreams had been crushed in a single syllable.
He had never really given much thought to the power of words. He had always expressed himself with his body on the ice. The sheer brute force of that one word had cut him like a thousand blades. It felt as if someone had thrust a hand into his chest and was slowly trying to rip his heart out. The insurmountable agony of it all was overwhelming and absolute.
Those past eight months he had spent with Viktor had been the happiest of his miserably anxious life. He had grown as a skater and had come to know the meaning of love. Viktor had been his idol, his mentor, and secret true love. And now, Viktor was…gone. Yuri had always told himself that it was only a matter of time before Viktor left him. He just hadn't expected it to make him feel so broken inside.
A strong gust of freezing cold wind brought Yuri abruptly back to reality. He was taken aback to find himself standing barefoot on the observation deck of the Barcelona Arena. Huh? When did I get up here? He had been so lost in his own misery that he had not realized he had been mindlessly making his way to that spot. He tried to remember how he had gotten there…but his mind was a total blank. The last thing he remembered was leaving the bathroom. Yuri looked around in shock as he saw that it was snowing lightly. It rarely ever snowed in Barcelona. Yuri made his way to the edge of the observation deck. He looked out into the cold Barcelona night and saw that the arena had a direct view of the church where him and Viktor had exchanged rings.
Tears flowed freely down his face. His chest felt impossibly tight and he hurt down to his very soul. Viktor had been the reason Yuri had fallen in love with skating again. Viktor had been his everything. Since the first time he had watched Viktor skate on TV, his whole life had been about him. His life was meaningless without Viktor. Without Viktor, there was no life.
Yuri stepped up onto the ledge. His feet had gone completely numb and he had some difficulty maintaining his balance. He brought his right hand up to his mouth and kissed the gold ring Viktor had placed on his finger. He stretched his arm out toward the church, closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall forward.
Time stood still. It felt as if he were falling for hours. His body impacted something hard and he heard the sound of crunching bone as his head hit the ground with great force.
Ah. Peace, at last.
When the darkness came for Yuri, he welcomed it with open arms.