The concept of soulmates was a strange one indeed, especially to Yuri. Soulmates were supposed to be perfect for each other in every way, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. When he was first told about soulmates, he was amazed, and intrigued, and impatiently waiting for his to come along. But as he got older and his anxiety more prevalent, he concluded that there was no way anyone could be his one and only, soulmate or otherwise. If even his family had a difficult time being around him, then he had no hope.
There was another thing soulmates could do. Not only could they get along perfectly, they could also banish nightmares with a simple hug or even a kiss. This was why so many couples cuddled up to each other at night. And at this point Yuri could use it. The constant dreams of his own failures and fears were taking a toll on his sleep, and ultimately his health. With so little sleep he was not eating nearly as much as he should, yet more time was spent skating than before the nightmares started, further thinning him out to the point where his ribcage could be seen under his shirt.
At the age of twenty-two was when his ailment had reached its apex. The dreams and lack of food and sleep had finally caught up to him in the form of a severe bout of depression. His recent failure at the Grand Prix Final coupled with his beloved Vicchan's death had at last sent him over the edge. Unable to find another way out, he resorted to his last option to end the suffering.
Alone in the bathroom, his Russian namesake having cussed him out, his hero having not even recognized him, he decided to end it all. He had managed to sneak a bottle of antidepressants he always kept on him into his coat pocket. He held a handful of them, staring at the small white tablets. Tears streaming in thick, ugly rivers down his sunken cheeks, he downed the entire thing in one go, sobbing his heart out while he waited for his end.
...
Viktor could not take his mind off the Japanese boy who had been staring at him. Something about the look in his eye intrigued him; it was not the look of lust and carnal cravings he often received from his fans, but one of silent wonder and another emotion he did not understand. When he had asked if the man wanted a photo, he was shocked to see him just walk away, his eyes downcast. He watched him skate, he saw the botched performance, but most of all, he saw the familiar look on his face when he sat in the Kiss-and-Cry. It was the unmistakable face of someone trying desperately not to break down so no one would worry.
But he worried.
It was just in Viktor's nature to concern himself with another, especially when that person was another skater like himself. However, this time that was not the only reason. When their gazes met, Viktor had felt a rush of calm sweep over him and drown his senses in a blurry haze. It was only for a moment, but he knew that feeling. It was the experience one was said to have when looking at their soulmate in person for the first time. Twenty-seven years of waiting and he had finally met his other half! And if he was not mistaken then he would have to meet him properly!
His mind was set. He headed down to the restroom where he saw his potential soulmate heading, mind awash with exhilaration at the mere thought of meeting him. People questioned the ridiculous grin he wore, but that was the last thing he cared about. The young man he pursued was about to get the surprise of his life!
"Hello~!" Viktor cooed almost seductively. He scanned the bathroom, hoping to find him, but instead he was nearly given a heart attack at the sight before him. Yes, he saw Yuri, but he also saw Yuri collapsed on the floor, one arm outstretched, pills scattered, tears still fresh, and a small trail of saliva running from the corner of his mouth. Viktor dropped everything and flipped him onto his back, noticing with horror that he was hardly breathing.
"Hey, can you hear me? Please wake up!" he tried without success. It was not feasible to believe he would respond in his current state, but his mind was beyond rational thought.
Another skater appeared through the door, though Viktor was unable to tell who it was as he all but shouted "Get the medics! Now!"
The other understood and bolted, relieving be damned at this point. Viktor scooped his soulmate into his arms and wept silently despite hardly knowing him. His heart cried out for Yuri, willing him to hold on, though he knew it was futile.
"V-Vik..."
His azure eyes snapped open and stared in disbelief and surprise at the raven-haired one, seeing his own chocolate brown oceans staring blankly ahead. Viktor realized belatedly that Yuri could not actually see him.
"V...ik...tor..." He was clearly hallucinating, even though the person he called out for was the same one that was with him. "I...I'm sorry..."
He cradled his beautiful albeit deathly face in his hand that was not supporting the rest of his body and met foreheads, as though it would transfer his life energy into him or whatever. Yuri could not feel the touch, perceive the closeness they shared, only rambling on about his own failures and shortcomings in his delirium. Nothing could be said that would make even a small difference.
"Out of the way!"
Except that.
Viktor jumped at the sudden intrusion of two paramedics, who shoved him aside to get to Yuri. He could do naught but observe helplessly while an oxygen mask was strapped over his mouth and he was moved onto a stretcher. Yuri was jostled and tossed around in their efforts to get him adjusted, making him wonder sadistically if they would actually do more harm than help. Those dark thoughts were halted when one of them turned to the Russian.
"Do you know his name?" he questioned sternly. Viktor dug through his memory of the other's free skate, trying his hardest to recall anything about his name being said. Finally, something came to mind.
"I think it is...Yuri...Katsooky?" He mentally cringed at the butchering of his own soulmate's name. The medic shook his head.
"We need a name, not a guess. Alright, get him into the ambulance!" His attention turned to his female partner, who had just finished taking his vitals, and by the look on her features anyone could assume it was not good. Having the stretcher and Yuri off the cold tile floor, the female addressed him.
"You may come with us to the hospital if you like. We have room for one more."
"Spasiba." he thanked her in his mother tongue, then immediately afterwards followed the trio to the awaiting ambulance.
Viktor did not remember much between exiting the bathroom and boarding the ambulance. No doubt everyone was staring at the commotion, though how could he care? Why would he pay attention to anything but Yuri? If he looked away even for a second, there was the nagging fear that when he looked back he would be dead. And yet if he continued to watch there was the fear of seeing him stop breathing entirely and flatlining. Ever since watching his mother die right in front of him he had been scarred, unable for years to watch anyone breath because then his mind would say What if they die? and throw him into a panic.
But now he cannot take his eyes away. Salty tears clouded his vision as he could do nothing more than watch Yuri slowly giving up on life, that being evident in the frantic shouting of the paramedics and the continuous efforts in keeping him just out of death's shadow. Despite the commotion around him, he stubbornly kept his hand clasped around Yuri's, feeling all too well his faint pulse beneath his wrist. It disturbed him, but he refused to let go of him, as though Viktor were the only connection to life he had left. His own heart hammered wildly as if making up for the sluggishness of Yuri's.
"I'm...sorry..."
Those feeble words were all it took for the silver-hair to snap back to reality. Yuri's eyes were cracked open minutely, gazing through the roof of the vehicle into empty space. Small droplets formed in the corners of those pitiful pools of amber, falling freely.
"Sumimasen, Viktor... I...I just wanted...t-to make you proud..." His eyes scrunched up as if to hold back the already-falling tears and he whimpered weakly in his haze. Viktor cupped his cheek and wiped the water away with his thumb without saying a word.
As they pulled into the hospital's emergency entrance, Viktor was once again pried away from the man he hardly knew yet loved so Yuri could be rushed inside.
"You must stay in the waiting room until you are called, understand?"
He gave a silent nod and walked in behind them listlessly, stopping for just a moment as Yuri disappeared behind the door to the operating room. He barely saw the others who had heard the news and were mourning along with him as he set himself down in one of the uncomfortable chairs of the waiting room. One woman of short brunette hair and small, plump stature sat down wordlessly, a hand on his back and a sympathetic expression, but he did not respond. To him, the small gestures were meaningless and offered no consolation. All he was able to do was stare daggers at the cold wooden door, wanting beyond all hope to see what was going on inside. He just wanted his soulmate to be alright.
"I know how you feel, Viktor."
Viktor flinched and turned to face the small woman, his face stern as his mood.
"How could you know how I feel about my Yuri having tried to kill himself?" No "Who are you?" or "How do you know my name?". He himself was irrelevant, as well as blind curiosity.
She extended her hand in greeting. "I'm Hiroko, Yuri's mother. I came to watch his performance live. I...I knew something was wrong with him for years, but I could never address it without upsetting him, and the doctor could not get anything out of him. Now seeing this happen... Why are you here with him, anyway?" Mama Katsuki tried to hold back her own grief for Viktor's sake by changing the subject, and he mentally slapped himself for having been so harsh to her. Especially to Yuri's mother.
"Yuri is my soulmate. I only found out after failing to recognize him." His own voice sounded alien to him. Hiroko's face lightened.
"Then there was a reason for his obsession."
He glanced inquisitively at the woman.
"He really does love you, you know. He watched every single one of your programs, adopted a poodle which he named after you, and he even has countless posters of you in his bedroom. I once also found a body pillow of you in his closet. It does my heart good that his crush is his one and only." She rested her head in her hand and smiled, eyes shut in blissful thought.
"Yuri Katsuki?"
Both their heads snapped up at the mention of the name. A young nurse stood just outside the door Yuri was wheeled through hours before. Viktor was the first to stand and grab her by the shoulders, eyes frantically searching her soft face for an answer.
"My soulmate! Is he..."
She gave him a small smile in return. "Calm down, sir. Mr. Katsuki made it through just fine. Although he is still unconscious and we are not sure if his memory is intact. You may see him if you like."
The relieved smile he wore could have ended all wars and cured cancer when he heard those words. The nurse had not even finished her sentence by the time Viktor was through the door into Yuri's room. On the bed by the window he lay, eyes shut in peaceful slumber, complexion still pale but not the ghostly white he was before. IVs were attached to his right arm, and at the bedside a heart monitor beeped at a steady seventy-three per minute. His breaths were slightly off, but other than that he was alright. Viktor silently sat at his side and watched his every breath as if each one would be the last, and yet he felt no worry for his health anymore. At least, not until the nurse reappeared, a more solemn look present on her face.
"Mr. Katsuki will be alright. However..." There was a brief pause. "This may be hard to hear, but he will have to be put on suicide watch. This simply means he must be monitored for any signs of contemplating suicide, and if he shows any indication he must receive immediate help. When he is discharged, just make sure to keep him away from anything potentially dangerous, such as medication not prescribed for him."
Viktor and Hiroko both solemnly nodded and the nurse left them alone. The Russian stared at Yuri's serene features, falling in love with his innocent face all over again. Yuri groaned when Viktor's hand found its way to his smooth face. Light brown eyes cracked open slightly, glancing around in a daze and finally resting on his lifetime crush.
"Is this...H-Heaven?" he rasped dryly, resulting in a weak cough. Viktor sniffed.
"No, and you're not going there for a long time."
The confusion was evident as he stared at him as though he were some illusion. "Then...why are you here?"
"Didn't you feel it?" He rested a hand on Yuri's forehead, noticing all too well his slight fever. "When we met gazes yesterday. Didn't you feel the strange calmness when you looked at me?"
It was easy to see the thought process as he sifted through his recent memories, and when he recalled the feeling he looked incredulously at him.
"No, you're mistaken..."
Huh. Still in denial.
"Yuri, we're soulmates. And as your soulmate I wish to protect and care for you.
No... No, this isn't true. This isn't true! Viktor is not his soulmate...he couldn't be! His heart screamed yes, but his mind and anxiety shrieked no. He's not good enough for a god like Viktor! He's not, he's not, he's not!
"Viktor..." was all he could wheeze out.
"I may not know you well, but you are precious to me. I only want the best for you."
"Viktor."
"I love you, Yuri. I always will."
This is not helping! This is not helping the negative thoughts and the subsequent panic that followed.
He's lying!
You're not good enough for him!
Give up already!
Just end it!
The world is better off without you to get in the way!
Nobody could ever love you!
Yuri clutched his chest, wide-eyed, breathing coming in short, labored gasps, heart monitor spiking and alarming everyone. His other hand tore at the IVs in his arm and the teal robes he was wearing, throat constricting to the point he could not draw breath. Viktor was frozen solid, panicked himself as he had never seen anyone like this. Hiroko was the same way.
Three doctors rushed in, and suddenly the room was too hot and too cramped. Both watched unblinkingly as two doctors held down his arms and the third approached with an oxygen mask. Yuri kicked and flailed against the strangers in white and screamed various incoherencies at nothing in particular. His cheeks flushed and shined with a familiar wetness, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. At one point somewhere in the middle Yuri had managed to kick one of them in the jaw, freeing an arm which he used to strike at the other.
"We need backup in here!" the second called out, and two more rushed in to help. By this time Yuri was running purely on adrenaline, having passed out a while ago if not for that.
"No one loves me!" he wailed hoarsely for everyone to hear. "I'm such a screw-up! I deserve to die! Let me go, damnit! Let me go, let me go, let me go!"
Then the previously-overpowered medics were up again and holding him down once more, arms and legs this time. He still thrashed, head tossing about violently until the fourth doctor held it in place and the fifth strapped on the mask. Pure air now flowing into his lungs, his movements slowed after a minute and became mere twitches, losing the battle to unconsciousness. His cries became raspy whispers. His struggle against the doctors ceased and his tense body relaxed into the bed. His eyelids gradually fluttered shut.
"Don't lie to me..." he moaned through the plastic, the exhaustion finally catching up. "Please...don't tell me what you don't mean, Viktor..." His heart slowed to a more natural pace, the beeping of the monitor in sync, and with a final tired blink he was out.
Viktor sagged into his chair in relief once Yuri stopped moving, his own anxiety dying down at last. He wiped the sweat off his forehead he hadn't known formed and looked over at Hiroko, who wore a similar expression.
"Did...did it ever get this bad?" he breathed, slightly winded from the experience.
Hiroko nodded once. "Only once when he was first confronted about his health. He was very hostile toward everyone and even lashed out at his ballet instructor when she asked one too many questions. Well, we kept asking and it threw him into a panic." Her eyes glazed over a bit. "Ah, bless his sweet heart, but it would have stopped if we hadn't managed to calm him down..."
"Wait..." Viktor hesitated. "He's nearly died before?"
"Hai. The only reason he didn't was because of the body pillow. He held onto it for dear life and somehow it grounded him. Since then his attacks were less severe, so I thought the worst of it passed. Even so, he never talked about it with anyone, not even his closest friend Yuuko." She shrugged and stood up to take her leave. "It's getting late. I trust you'll look after him for the night?" It was more of an order than a request, but Viktor still nodded.
"I have no intention of leaving." he asserted in a soft voice.
...
Yuri was released from the hospital two days later on suicide watch, still dazed from the sudden movement after having been lying around for so long. His previous attack had a lasting effect on the trio and left Viktor dazed, Hiroko silent, and Yuri withdrawn. He shied away from any physical contact and avoided every conversation. After such a show, surely Viktor would leave him at the first opportunity. The thoughts swirling around made him dizzy. He wavered slightly on his feet and stumbled into Viktor's side. Viktor caught him before he could fall and gave him a small grin, lifting him to the Japanese's surprise.
"H-Hey! Viktor, what are you doing?!" He struggled against his soulmate's iron grip to no avail. Viktor laughed wholeheartedly at the display and chanced a tiny peck to his nose, delighting in the way he froze and his face flared red. Yuri clung for dear life onto Viktor's shirt after the shock had passed as he had never been carried before, a low whimper escaping his throat at every rough movement during the long trek to the nearest taxi to the airport. Some passersby looked in confusion at the trio, mainly Viktor. He just smiled and nodded in return.
"Viktor..." a small voice mumbled from within his arms. "Why is everyone staring?"
"Don't worry, Solnyshko. Being carried in public is not a very common practice in Russia, that's all." He flashed one of his soft, persuasive smiles, and Yuri relented with a deep sigh.
"Fine. Just...put me down. Please." He still wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, but another part of him sought Viktor's love. The constant conflict just left him tired.
Hiroko waved down a passing taxi, which slowed to a halt and unlocked its doors. The elder woman was seated in the front while Viktor gently deposited Yuri in the rear right seat and took his place to his left. The order was given and they were off to Sheremetyevo Airport.
The ride was silent save for the occasional comment from the driver, and the steady hum of the car lulled Yuri into half-consciousness. Viktor noticed the way he would lean forward, then snap back to reality at each bump in the road, and spoke up.
"The airport is an hour away, Yuri. Why don't you lie down and take a nap?" He shifted a bit in his seat and patted his lap, a clear invitation.
"Hai..." he whispered sleepily and all but collapsed into his waiting pillow, only slightly aware of the arm draped over him as he slipped away from reality. Viktor couldn't help but take a picture of the undeniably heartwarming scene and post it on Instagram with the caption "Sleeping Beauty". Let everyone be confused; he did not want to retell the entire story of how he met Yuri at the time.
Viktor himself drifted off without having even known it, for it seemed not even three moments later he was being roused by Mama Katsuki and urged out. He blinked mildly and spared a glance down to see that Yuri was still peacefully dreaming. It was too bad that such an endearing moment had to end as he softly shook his shoulder. Yuri grumbled something unintelligible and curled up tighter.
He really did not want to wake him; he was simply too adorable.
"Wake up, Yuri..." he cooed softly. "Come on, the driver has places to be."
Yuri sighed and opened his eyes a slit, earning Viktor's approval.
"We're already here? At...Sh...Sherry...Sheremyet...um..."
God, he was so cute.
"Yes, we're here. At Sheremetyevo." he corrected while also marveling at Yuri's ability to kill purely with his preciousness. "Now, if you're not going to get up then I'm carrying you."
"Alright, I'm up!" He bolted upright in the seat and was out in two seconds, hair still ruffled from sleep. Viktor restrained himself from having a heart attack right there and weaved his fingers through his raven tendrils to straighten him up a bit. He was able to make him halfway presentable before they had to move on to catch their flight.
...
Yuri barely even made it into the seat before he was out cold on Viktor's shoulder, snoring slightly. Viktor covered both of them in a soft cyan blanket and dozed, head resting on top of Yuri's. Hiroko snapped a picture of them on Viktor's phone, which he had given to her to do just that...then took another with her own for herself.
The flight lasted a total of eleven hours, half of which was spent soundly sleeping. One thing Viktor learned during that time was that Yuri was a heavy sleeper. Viktor shifting and getting up to relieve himself did not do so much as make him stir, although when he returned Yuri was subconsciously searching the empty seat for him. He felt the younger relax when he reclaimed his spot. He would have fallen asleep again right there, but the color brown caught his attention.
"I'm hungry..." Yuri mumbled sleepily. Viktor felt his own stomach begging to be filled when those words were spoken.
"I'll get us something. Just hold on a moment." He waved down an attendant walking by and requested a menu, which was provided soon after. Yuri stared blankly at the Cyrillic writing and looked to his soulmate for help.
"Right, you don't understand Russian," he realized too late. "How about some oatmeal? Does that sound good?"
The slight nod from him was all he needed as the attendant returned to take their order. Viktor ordered the same thing for himself just to keep it simple and handed the menu back to her. Satisfied that they would be fed, he relaxed into the seat and slung an arm around Yuri's shoulders, pulling him in. Yuri shifted uncomfortably and grabbed his attention.
"What's wrong?"
Yuri blushed slightly. "It's been my lifelong dream, being so close to you. I'm just still in denial that this is actually happening." He turned away in embarrassment, not wanting Viktor to see his hideous blush. But Viktor had other plans. He gently cupped his face in both hands and turned him around, taking in the sight. There was something about how the light pink colored all the right parts that pierced his heart with Cupid's arrow.
"Yuri," his voice cracked. He pressed a kiss to his forehead unexpectedly. "You are beautiful." A kiss to his cheek. "Don't hide your beauty from me." A peck on the lips. "Show me the deepest parts of you."
Time slowed, reality gone, and for a moment the fact that they were on a plane was beyond Yuri, staring into those sapphire oceans with a desperate need. Viktor was looking into him, beckoning him on. Yuri's heart hammered against his chest merely at the sight of him so close to his face, his hands shaking and sweating, his breath caught in his throat. Viktor's smile lit his face on fire as if it were oil lit by a match. His own eyes wide, he hesitantly reached up to cradle Viktor's face and leaned in.
"Excuse me."
Yuri recoiled at the shattering of his timeless reality to find the attendant waiting impatiently with their order. Viktor was the one to take the steaming bowls and thank her, from which she hurriedly shuffled away, eager to avoid the lovey-dovey pair. Yuri was still breathing heavily, now fully aware that he had nearly kissed his idol when it was usually the other way around. The silver-haired man have him a loving pat on the shoulder.
"Eat up, Yuri."
...
They were both glad to finally be out of the cramped seats and into the open air of Hasetsu. Viktor was probably even more so since he was seeing his soulmate's hometown for the first time. Yuri was just happy to be home again. He uncharacteristically listened in on a conversation between Viktor and Hiroko on their way to the onsen where he lived and worked, curious as to why their voices were hushed. What he heard disheartened him.
"So, since he's on suicide watch, what do I have to do?" he heard Viktor whisper.
"Keep him from anything sharp until we know he won't try anything." Then, in a much more somber tone, "This means he can't skate in that time."
That last part was what disturbed him the most; how could he manage himself without skating? If he doesn't have the ice, his anxiety will get the better of him, and...
"Yuri, what are you thinking about? You're pretty quiet."
Viktor's weight was on him in a second, slowing him down. His heart lurched at the innocence in his tone, knowing he was completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He instinctively distanced himself and crossed his arms, closing in on himself as insecurity brewed in his mind.
"Yuri..." Viktor's voice trembled at the rejection.
He couldn't take it anymore!
"I-I'm sorry, I'll leave." he stuttered and picked up his pace throughout the short trip home. Viktor lagged behind for a moment, still hurt from the way Yuri had just shoved him off and confused as to why. He ran after him when the shock passed.
By the time Yuri made it to his bedroom tears were already falling as he slammed the door shut and threw himself down on his bed, burying his face as far into his pillow as he possibly could and releasing the pent-up anguish in his heart. He hugged his Viktor body pillow close, a habit he picked up on whenever he was upset.
"Yuri, my love, please come out!" a voice called beyond the barrier between its owner and the hideous mess that was Yuri.
"N-No!" he fought back, desperate to hide away. He just wanted to stay in there and never come out. It was bad enough that his hero whom he had idolized forever was stuck with such a terrible soulmate, now he has to deal with this useless bag of depression. On the other side of the door, Viktor shifted from one foot to the other.
"Please, Lyubov..." he pleaded, but Yuri was not listening anymore. Viktor could hear the muffled cries which tore him in two. He paced back and forth in the hallway, unsure what to do. His other half was suffering and all he could do was wait.
Yuri hated it! He hated constantly being called his love, his sun, his anything! Viktor hardly even knew him and yet he was just throwing himself all over him and getting into his personal space when he had spent his entire life trying to keep everyone out! Who cares if they were soulmates? It was probably just some sadistic prank anyways!
Viktor is too good for you!
He's not your soulmate!
You're weak!
Pathetic!
He'll never love you!
He's going to leave you here to rot!
Viktor heard an earsplitting scream from Yuri, piercing his soul. He couldn't just sit there and let him suffer through this!
Hesitantly, he turned the knob and pushed it open, revealing what was nothing less than a Viktor shrine. Various posters littered the walls, covering every inch; hell, some were even on the ceiling! A framed picture of him sat on his art desk which was covered in doodles of him that Yuri himself must have drawn, and even past all that some posters were still in their original packaging, having no place on his walls. Viktor had no idea whether he should have been endeared or uncomfortable staring at himself plastered everywhere. What Hiroko told him in the hospital did not even scratch the surface of his collection. Who knows what he could have on his computer!
Yuri snapped him from his reverie as he lay on his bed with his pillow close to him, whimpering and quivering, fighting a losing battle with his panic. His voice was so small that when he spoke as it was likely shot from that scream earlier, though he had not calmed down at all.
"Viktor... Gomennassai... I'm so sorry..." The mixed language sounded throughout the seemingly-cramped room and shook with a sadness that the Russian himself had never before felt. "I'm such a failure..."
No you're not, he wanted to say, but he couldn't find his voice.
"I'm such a failure!" Well, Yuri's voice could be found at least. "I don't deserve you! I can't do anything right! Baka, baka, baka-"
"Yuri!"
His breath hitched and he choked on his words, not having known Viktor was there. He shot the man a terrified and furious glare at his intrusion.
"Go away!" he fumed. "Can't you see I'm busy!"
"You're hurting yourself, Yuri! I'm not going to walk away when my Lyubov is berating himself!" Yuri snapped then, and Viktor witnessed firsthand a rage that no one else has ever seen from the shy man.
"Stop calling me your love! You hardly even know me, damnit! Why can't you just go away already?!"
Viktor recoiled at the seething words.
"Yuri, I want to help you-"
"No! Go away! I don't want you here! Just go back to Russia and stay out of my life!" Viktor's eyes widened and he froze in his spot for the longest minute; did Yuri really just say that? Was this still Yuri?
"Fine. I'll leave." Tears threatened to spill over as he said that and, so Yuri wouldn't see, he turned on his heel and walked out, the slam of the door punctuating him.
Yuri's words slowly sank in as he sat motionlessly on the bed, staring at the door behind which Viktor disappeared. The reality of the situation hit him like the brick it was, and what little composure he still had-if that was possible-broke.
Now look what you did!
You deserve it!
Now he's gone forever and there's nothing you can do!
The voices were right. He fucked up and there was nothing he could do to fix it. He began hyperventilating, but he was beyond the point of rational thought. Hatred coursed through his veins, for both himself and the way Viktor intruded on his personal space and proceeded to shower him with various pet names when he didn't even understand Yuri. You don't just throw yourself on a stranger!
But isn't that what he wanted his entire life? For Viktor to love him like he was all that mattered? Isn't that what everyone wanted? Viktor was literally the hottest bachelor in the world, and Yuri, a desperate nobody, shoved him away like he was a pet that got too close.
Was he really so down on his luck that Viktor felt the need to make him feel better? Was he really that low?
Maybe he could make it better himself. Not really the guilt, but maybe he could lessen the pain.
He eyed one of the drawers of his desk and contemplated what he was about to do. He hadn't done this since he was a moody teenager, so why now?
Why not now?
He really hated his inner voice.
His mind set, he stood on shaking legs and staggered over to his desk, opening the small drawer and digging a bit until he reached the bottom. There, under his various pencils and other utensils, sat a single box cutter. It was still slightly stained from the previous years, but the blade was still sharp, and that was all that mattered. His hand shook as he lifted it, feeling the small weight in his palm when he turned it around once and opened it. His mind raced with a million thoughts, none of which were reasonable, on his way back to his bed.
Am I really going through with this?
I do deserve it.
Especially after what I did to Viktor.
Only once, then I'll stop.
Easy enough.
A deep breath later, and he dragged the cold metal across his arm. Blood, thick and horribly, horribly red, poured from the open wound and dripped onto the blankets. It was terrible, he was terrible, but he also found some dark satisfaction in it. His tears mingled with the crimson fluid and stained his arm, but one cut was not enough. He repeatedly tore through his skin, careful not to go too deep but at the same time welcoming the hurt as it distracted him from his anxiety. He was rather pleased with the outcome, taking a moment to admire his handiwork before moving to clean up. The blood gone and cuts closing up, he dug mindlessly through his closet for a long-sleeved shirt. The one he found was an ugly shade of blue, but all that mattered was that it covered his arms. His panic subsided, he laid down, mind cleared.
...
Viktor had no intention of leaving Yuri, actually; he just needed some time away from him so both could clear their heads. Maybe he had been too clingy, but he couldn't help it. It was in his nature, after all. Plus, something about Yuri himself was so enticing, he just had to be all over him. It was Viktor's fault for liking pretty things, he supposed.
Dejected, he flopped gracelessly onto the floor in the dining room to join in the afternoon meal. Hiroko could sense the tense air around him and wordlessly set a steaming bowl of some food he didn't recognize on the table in front of him. He nodded his wordless thanks and fiddled with the chopsticks, not even bothering to hold them right. The dull glint in his eyes put her off a bit and she ventured to ask "What did Yuri do?" knowing that was the issue. Viktor slouched over the table and avoided her gentle stare.
"He was beating himself up and I tried to help but he lashed out at me."
Hiroko gave an understanding nod.
"Don't take it personally, Vicchan. That's just how he is. When he is panicked he doesn't know what to do. He pushes everyone away and turns inward, locking himself in his room where he feels safe. When he is like this it's best to leave him be until he calms down."
"And how long will that take?" he impatiently huffed.
"Maybe a day or so. Four days was the longest he had ever lasted, but that was not a normal time. Just be patient and I'm sure he will-"
"O-Ouch!" Viktor grabbed his left arm as a searing pain shot through his wrist. When he looked down, he watched horrified as a small line of crimson formed. The agony continued as another line, then another, then another etched itself into his skin and dripped onto the floor. Tears fell from his lashes when he squeezed his eyes shut, holding his arm in a vicelike grip. Hiroko, not seeing the blood, questioned his behavior.
"Vicchan?"
He didn't trust his voice, afraid that if he opened his mouth something other than words would come out. He hesitantly lifted his hand up, showing her the damage. She sucked in a stuttering breath.
"Go to Yuri!" she barked. He sat confused for the longest moment, before the soulmate connection came back to him. Then the severity of the situation dawned on him. Not caring for the red trail he left behind, he ran as fast as his feet could carry him and slammed the door to Yuri's room open, startling the person inside.
"Show me your arms!" he commanded, the fear evident in his tone. Yuri blinked, feigning innocence.
"Why?"
"You know damn well why! Now show me your arms!"
Yuri's breath caught in his throat at the cold tone of his voice. He never heard Viktor talk like that before. Besides that, how had he known about the cutting? He was pretty sure he was quiet, and even if he weren't he shouldn't have been able to find out so quickly!
But one look at Viktor's arm answered everything.
God, he was such an idiot!
Seeing Yuri would not move, Viktor roughly grabbed his left arm, ignoring the protests from the other, and shoved his sleeve up. There on display for the world to see, multiple cuts littered his skin, still red. Viktor blinked rapidly as if trying to convince himself that he was just seeing things. When the cuts did not go away, he dropped Yuri's arm and sagged onto the floor.
"Yuri...why?" he whispered in a tone so pathetic that Yuri broke. He curled away from Viktor, not wanting him to see his face despite having already cried in front of him.
"You... You must think I'm weak, don't you? I'm not worth your time, so please...please Viktor, just go away."
He was instantly swept into a bone-crushing embrace, Viktor giving him the biggest and tightest hug that Russia had to offer. Yuri hesitantly returned the gesture, face hidden by the fabric of the other's shirt. After all this time Yuri figured he would have run out of tears, but that was not the case.
"Yuri, you're not weak. Nobody thinks that, either," he soothed through his own grief with a hand stroking his back comfortingly. Yuri shook his head vigorously.
"You're lying..."
"No, I wouldn't lie to you."
"But-"
"Yuri."
Viktor pressed Yuri's head to his chest and rocked them back and forth on the floor, a steady, reassuring movement. Yuri just relaxed into the sway, the steady pattern grounding him. Viktor hummed a quiet tune which reverberated off the walls back into Yuri's ears and penetrated a small hole in the dark cloud of his thoughts. Yuri looked down at Viktor's arm, the one stained in blood, and swallowed the lump in his throat.
"I wouldn't lie to you. All I want is for you to do the same." The words hummed gently in Viktor's chest. Yuri exhaled shakily to hold back the sobs, drying his tears.
"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," he whispered when he could find his voice again, but he was once more hushed.
"As many times as it takes, Yuri...I will be here."
Yuri scooted closer.
"I'll get better. I promise."
...
Yuri did get better in the end. He stopped trying to hurt himself the week following their confrontation, greatly pleasing his dear soulmate and himself. He was rather satisfied with himself when the cuts faded into mere scars, feeling accomplished for once in his life. Ever since last year's Grand Prix Final, all hope had been lost for him, but now here he was, Viktor standing next to him on the podium, gold medal around his neck, exhausted yet genuinely proud.
Trust was the hardest for Yuri to earn from his soulmate. He knew that Viktor loved him unconditionally, with every fiber of his being, but he honestly couldn't blame him; even he would have a difficult time trusting himself around a knife, let alone a pair of skates, so when the phantom pains in Viktor's arm ceased both were more than a little relieved. Yuri's anxiety brain, as he liked to call it, was still there, and would never go away, but the constant conflict over his self-worth had faded for the most part.
Yes, he did still have his moments of panic, and those moments were too often for his taste, often leading to Viktor having to hold him and comfort him and gently guide him through the experience, usually in the middle of the night or before a competition, the latter more common. Viktor was still a constant support through it all, though, and that made life a little more bearable.
At present, both men were in the locker room, Yuri slipping out of his skating outfit and back into regular clothing, Viktor silently observing while at the same time respecting Yuri's timid nature being nude around his lifetime crush. The medal still hung from his neck against bare skin as he threw his shirt and training jacket over his shoulders, glinting subtly in the dim light. Viktor smiled and pressed a kiss to his neck, delighting in his reaction.
"So, Yuri..." He casually sauntered up behind Yuri, holding the younger in place by his hips. "Before Worlds, we should do some more thorough training, don't you think?" He dragged out his words with a seductive wink.
"Vitya, we're in public..."
"So?"
Yuri scoffed playfully. "Viktor Nikiforov, how have you made it so far in life?"
Viktor pushed him up against the lockers and peppered kisses down his neck, earning a soft moan. "I'll show you."
Yuri made a mental checklist: Viktor first, then celebrate, then Worlds. After that...well, Viktor did say they would get married once he won.