"Qui vivra verra"

A widely used and understood proverb that means, "He who lives, shall see."

They're practicing the couple's routine for Stammi Vicino.

He should've known.

It's been a couple of years since they last skated. Being retired, their bodies were no longer used to the strain of competing and performing programs that they once did without breaking a sweat. It was foolish, to practice a complicated routine without someone else to supervise them. It was rash and hasty and he should've known better.

He should've known.

He prepares for a lift and his husband raises his arms. It was something that they should've been able to execute flawlessly and yet- their legs collide and he finds himself falling towards the ice. And the warmth and love he sees in his husband's eyes turn to horror and dread in a millisecond but he doesn't have enough time to dwell on it as he crashes to the ice. The action too fast, too unexpected for him to catch himself. He lands harshly on the ice, the sound heard loud and clear in the empty rink. His body screams in pain, as his voice cannot.

"Yuuri!" He hears his husband scream and he wills himself to move, to answer, to look at him.

But faith is never kind. Black spots cover his vision, his ears ringing and he hears muted screams- as though they were from a distance. He sees a red pool quickly forming around him, blood, his mind supplies him. And suddenly, fatigue grips him. He struggles futilely, desperately trying to get a grasp on reality but it is all for naught.

His eyes slowly close and the last thing he think of is,

"I'm sorry, Vitya."

It felt like drowning.

His eyes slid shut, dead to the world, unable to hear his husband's wails.

The full moon shines, breeze blowing the petals of the sakura trees away.

It's the night before their wedding and Yuuri should be happy. And he is, happier than he's ever been in his life. To be able to be with Victor-

The notion of spending the rest of his days with Victor was.. unbelievable.

And therein lies the problem.

Living with anxiety.. is like constantly hearing a voice inside your head. It knows all your fears, your insecurities and the voice will continuously taunt you-

and it gets to the point where it's the loudest voice in the room.

When every little mistake, mishap, turns unbearable.

(why did I say that,

why did I do that,

that was stupid- I shouldn't have- stupidstupidstUPID-)

And he doesn't want to burden Victor with his anxiety. It was tiring- more so if you had to constantly be someone's pillar, someone's sanity-

Yuuri's scared. Frightened. Terrified.

What if,

what if he's not good enough?

Victor would surely leave him as soon as he realizes how much of an anxiety ridden- pathetic excuse of a human- he is-

There was a reason he had tried to break things off the night before his free skate, back in Barcelona.

Because for all of Victor's years, although he was older than him, Victor was naive. Naive when it comes to seeing the truth.

But when he looked at Victor after his program, seeing him, Yuuri hadn't wanted to let go. And it was so selfish of him.

"Yuuri?"

His train of thought comes to a stop and he turns around to see Victor standing, panting and flushed, looking as though he had run a marathon.

"What are you doing out, it's late, you should be sleeping-"

And Yuuri feels guilty, he hadn't meant to make Victor worried, "I.. needed to get some air."

Victor walks to him and sits beside him. Silent comfort, Yuuri wonders just how well Victor knows him now.

"I'm sorry, I just.." And his words fail him and he lets himself trail off. He looks back at Victor and knows, that he understands.

And Yuuri wonders just what did he do to deserve someone like Victor.

Comfortable silence envelops them and slowly, rays of light start to break through the sky when Victor reaches for both of his hands and grasps them as though he would disappear should he let go,

"And you know,

this could be beautiful."

He says and presses his thumb over Yuuri's ring.

Their matching rings glint as the sunrise makes itself known.

Yuuri falls out from his jump. He lands on the ice (again). "What..." He hears himself say with a voice too young to belong to him.

He sees his best friend- Phichit, looking considerably younger than the last time he saw him. If his memory serves him right, he saw him last January and they spent the day discussing and reminiscing about their time in Detroit together.

"Yuuri! Are you alright?" Phichit says quickly, voice tinged with worry.

Yuuri glances around, panic gradually forming and clasping his mind, what was he doing back in Detroit, why was he here, where is Victor-

He pales considerably and his eyes are blown,

"Phichit," And his friend gives him his complete attention. "What date is it?" A sliver of hesitance coats his question, desperately trying to keep his panic down, to hide it away.

Phichit's eyes widens and his hands come up to grab his shoulders, "Yuuri, are you sure you're alright? It's November, Yuuri. Are your nerves getting to you? I know the GPF is on December but-" Yuuri tunes him out.

November.

GPF.

December.

Yuuri's eyes widen for a fraction, "What- GPF? Phichit, what are you talking about?" He feels his panic increase.

"The Grand Prix Final, Yuuri, you qualified remember? Are you fine? I'm going to call Celestino-" Phichit takes out his phone and Yuuri grabs his hand, "No." Phichit is visibly surprised and Yuuri clears his throat, "-I mean, no, I'm alright. Really." He sees his friend frown and nod reluctantly.

Yuuri lets go of his hand and notices that his hand started shaking. His eyes close for a moment, ignoring his friend's calls.

A hallucination? Was this the afterlife? Whatwashappening-

He gazes down on his hands, too small, unblemished, youthful, wrong.

And he desperately chokes back a sob because he wasn't wearing his ring. The one his husband gave to him-

Yuuri takes a deep breath and skates towards his bag, he needs to be alone, he needs to go back, he needs Victor- "Yuuri?"

He needs to get out, to be alone, he needs to think.

He glances back at Phichit and it takes everything he has to keep his voice from breaking, "I'm going to take a break. I'm alright Phichit, don't worry." And he trudges back to his room.

His current coach gave him the day off tomorrow. He knows Phichit informed Celestino of his earlier breakdown. And he's here, (alone) in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

If this wasn't a dream, then he went back in time. But how? Why?

Yuuri lets a laugh slip out because of course, it just had to be before he met Victor, before he got married. He was in this alone.

He never thought that he would have to do it all again. Then again, who expects to travel back to the past? He thinks wryly to himself. He turns to his side (missing the warmth that he would usually find beside him) and sighs. Yuuri stretches out his right arm, missing the glint of gold on his finger. You don't spend 2 decades with someone and not miss them when they're torn away from you.

And the full force of the situation suddenly hits him, he left Victor. He left him behind, he died. Yuuri vainly tries to choke back a sob. Just thinking about his husband had sobs wreck his form. Victor had to deal with his death on the ice. A central part of their relationship. The ice, where they started their careers, where they performed, one of the reasons why they met. And he feels terrible. Because he never wants to see Victor in pain. He doesn't want to taint the ice- a place where they both felt safe, with the memory of his death.

You have invented a new kind of stupid. A 'damage you can never undo' kind of stupid.

Unless he changes the past. He can't act like his past self, it would be draining. This was a second chance. Victor once told him that before he met him, he was living without a purpose. Empty and hollow. The least he could do is alleviate the loneliness Victor experienced and not let him suffer any longer.

Tomorrow,

I will start tomorrow.

But tonight, just for tonight,

just give me one night to mourn.

He spends the night mourning the future. A future, that he knew, can never be.

"I would give anything to be like that."

It's after Onsen on Ice and night has fallen. The adrenaline, the thrill, of winning had long since disappeared, overtaken by anxiety. And Yuuri hates it. When will he be free from anxiety, to not constantly question himself.

Victor glances back to him, "To be like what?"

"To be confident- to be free from anxiety." From fear, from loneliness.

Yuuri realizes what he said a second later and immediately regrets it.

He'd never been this open to someone before, to let himself be seen this vulnerable. But Victor probably doesn't understand. And he doesn't fault him for that.

"Believe it or not, I knew about fear," And Yuuri's head turns to Victor, clearly shocked.

"I knew the way loneliness had stung."

Yuuri opens his mouth to say something,

"Yuuri!"

And his sister calls him.

"I- please excuse me."

Victor stares at him as he walks away. He's out of earshot a few seconds later and Victor tilts his head back.

"I knew the way loneliness had stung, until I met you." He says to himself.

Sunrise greets him, rays of sunlight peeks from the curtains.

Tell tales of tear tracks tarnish his face, swollen and puffy eyes from the night before. He stands before the mirror and Yuuri inspects his body, his body that was at the peak of fitness. If there ever was a time to compete, it would be now. When his stamina was at its best, his body in perfect condition.

It was his choice whether he would stay in this slump or change the past. No, it's the present now. A chance to redeem himself.

(his failure in Sochi was unforgivable, he failed his family, his friends, his country

he made a fool of his country, of himself

his defeat reflected his coach and his mainland

never again.)

In a way, this was his reclamation. He wanted to make the people who supported him proud. His coach, who stood by him even through his anxiety. His parents, who encouraged his choices, whatever they may be.

He closes his eyes and opens them, brimming with determination.

He makes his way to the rink.

And he jumps, and jumps, and jumps.

His 22 year old body was certainly not used to it. But he knew that he was more than capable, he'd done more complicated routines before, he'd pushed his limit and succeeded.

Toe loops, salchows, lutz, axels, spins, and flips.

Again and again. He'd landed on the ice on his first few tries but he continued. Ignoring his body's ache for a break, he threw himself to a triple salchow for the 16th try.

A shaky landing. But a landing nonetheless. And he smiles.

An hour passes and he lands a quadruple flip for the fourth time.

He stops, triumphant, adrenaline running in his veins.

He had roughly about a month before he has to compete in Sochi. For someone like his past self, this sort of improvement was definitely unanticipated. But he has years of experience and enough confidence to pull this off. He refused to lower the difficulty of his programs after his first year of being Victor's student. This was his redemption. He can never allow himself to fail and shame his country again.

"Coach, I've already choreographed my programs."

Celestino stills and finds himself scrutinizing his supposedly shy and timid student. He'd been worried about Yuuri when Phichit called him about his breakdown. He knew that his student suffered from anxiety so he gave him a break. He expected Phichit to drag Yuuri around or stay in his room so he excused him as well. He was proven wrong however when Phichit ran to him, saying that he couldn't find Yuuri. He said that he went to check on him and couldn't find him anywhere. They spent the morning looking for him and he was tempted to call in the police until he received a message from Yuuri.

He called Yuuri in to lecture him about his recklessness and to talk about his programs for Sochi which led him to this situation. At least, that's what he meant to do until he hears his student tell him that he made new programs. New! It was suicide, he was purposely sabotaging himself, he only had a month or so before the GPF. He opens his mouth to tell him no but he stops.

There was something glaringly different with Yuuri. He used to sink into himself and refused to make eye contact with most people. Today was different. An aura of confidence surrounded his student and he carried himself as though nothing could touch him.

It baffled him. What happened to his student? A man who, before now, was usually withdrawn and farouche. But the person before him, stands and walks with refined elegance, self-assured and imperturbable. It was staggering, to suddenly see a person who he thought he knew become someone completely different.

Celestino stays silent. And nods at his student. A silent cue of his approval.

Yuuri sets the music then skates to the middle of the rink and stops.

The first few notes of the song start to play and Yuuri moves.

And he skates to the song, seemingly in tune with the music and secure in the ice.

Celestino stares, captivated, mesmerized. He'd always known that Yuuri was extremely talented but this.. this was surprising. Unexpected and abrupt.

And Yuuri suddenly throws himself into a triple salchow.

The song continues and he sees his student perform jumps that he never knew that he could do.

A triple lutz. A flying sit spin. A double axel double toe loop. A half loop and a triple flip.

The music comes to a close and Yuuri does a quadruple salchow at the end.

His student glances at him expectantly, waiting for his reaction. And he is completely flabbergasted. He hears Phichit's gasps stop.

This.. amount of improvement in such little time was impossible. Practically unheard of. Not when his student usually flubbed his jumps, it was simply inconceivable. But that was exactly what Yuuri did. He considers the pros and cons for a moment.

Then Celestino's mouth splits into a grin, and says, "If that's your SP, then I wonder how your FS will be like Yuuri."

His student beams at him and says, "There's a million things I haven't done, just you wait."

Phichit considered himself to be the person to know Yuuri the best. However, what with all the years they've spent together, he'd never seen this side of his best friend. He'd never even known that this side of Yuuri existed.

He was troubled and distressed after Yuuri left the rink. He turned and turned the whole night, worried about him. He knew Yuuri would get panic attacks but the incident at the rink didn't seem like one. He looked utterly confused and bewildered. To the point where he was disoriented enough that he forgot the date.

He reluctantly decided to give Yuuri space when he came back. Choosing to let him have some time alone.

He woke up and glanced to Yuuri's side of the room and was surprised to see that the bed was made. He checked the clock, Ciao-ciao have us the day off today, where is he?

Soon after that, he went looking for Yuuri. He stopped by the cafe that they would frequent after training, the library, and finally went to the rink and found that it was closed as Celestino scheduled their training on a later time for him and his rink mates.

Phichit sent Yuuri countless messages, asking him where he was.

Phichit: Yuuri, where are you?

Phichit: Yuuri?!

Phichit: pls reply I'm worried

His messages went unanswered and unread.

He ran to Celestino, frantic until finally, finally, Yuuri sends both of them messages, asking them to meet him at the rink.

When he went to the rink, he never expected this to happen.

He gasped, completely stupefied. He'd just witnessed jumps he'd never seen his friend accomplish without any fault or error.

There are times when Victor stops and realizes, that Yuuri was with him. That he was married to him. It often brings him to tears.

Back before he had met Yuuri, before that night, before the banquet, before Sochi, he'd already resigned to a life of loneliness. Twenty-seven years, with more than a decade of dedicating his life to the ice, to skating, relationships had become the last thing in his priorities.

It's not until he came home from another competition and was met with silence and the darkness that he realized that he was alone. Oh, he had Makkachin, perhaps Yakov, Chris, and the others. But,

he felt so.. separated, alienated from other people.

It had come to a point where most people had put him in a pedestal, where they see the Living Legend instead of him while some were bitter, hated that they lost against him.

And suddenly, light comes to his life- after being away for so long, in the form of the man he met at the banquet.

But the light disappears as quickly as it appeared.

He's left alone once again.

Until he sees the video. And Victor drops everything and heads to Japan.

He expects the seductive and unabashedly confident man he met back in Sochi. What greets him is someone the opposite. But he was undeterred. He'd finally found.. found something- someone who painted his monochrome world with so much color and he wasn't letting go.

When Yuuri tells him that he wants him to be Victor. To be just Victor. Not the Living Legend, he wanted nothing but to cry and sob in his arms. Because finally, finally, someone who saw through the facade, someone who asked him to be just himself.

Himself.

Not the champion, the Living Legend.

But the road wasn't easy. As he was secluded from other people for so long, unable to connect as he had focused on his career, he didn't know what to do. What to say. That's why, sometimes, his actions- although he hadn't intended for it to do so, had pushed Yuuri away from him. He'd made him cry. And at times, he would blame himself for not being able to comfort Yuuri- through his insecurities and fears.

He wanted Yuuri to see how beautiful, how perfect he was. But all Yuuri saw was the flaws and imperfections.

And it makes Victor want to scream at the world. And he fight(s) the urge to strike a match and set this dump (the world- this cruel cruel world) ablaze. Because how could people do this to Yuuri? Someone as kind and forgiving as him, to be belittled.

When Yuuri slides the golden ring on his finger,

Victor knows that he will never let this go.

(why do they hate me, why don't I fight back,

why do I cry myself to sleep?

somebody hug me, somebody fix me, somebody save me-

send me a sign God- give me some hope here-

something to live for)

Yuuri wakes up and finds himself looking at the concerned eyes of Victor.

Victor bites his bottom lip and says, "Do you need something? I can go get some tea-"

Yuuri shakes his head and loops his arm around Victor,

"Stay. Please."

They fall in asleep with their arms and limbs wrapped around each other, unwilling to be separated.

Yuuri looks up to the sky, cleared up and clear. All signs of the rain the day before, all gone.

He's sitting on the floor, sorting through his clothes, his outfits for his programs and other essentials.

His flight to Sochi is in two days, he's set to arrive several days before the competition. Yesterday, he had geared himself up for the inevitable meeting with Victor. Although it won't be the same as last time, it would happen.

"You'll do fine," His best friend, Phichit, says as he leans on the wall.

"I will," Yuuri tells him.

After his return to the past and his little stunt- changing his programs and showing them to his coach, Phichit had kept a close eye on him. He knows it's because he was confused over his sudden change. To Phichit, he'd changed overnight or rather suddenly so it's understandable.

Yuuri's taking down his posters in his side of the room when Phichit arrives.

"Yuuri?!"

"What are you doing?!"

Yuuri plucks out the last remaining poster from the wall, "Taking down posters." He says nonchalantly, as though he's not turning his best friend's world upside down.

He looks back at Phichit, who stood there, completely flabbergasted.

"Wha- why- why are you taking down your posters?"

"I'll still keep them, I'm just taking them down."

Phichit reluctantly nods.

Yuuri shrugs, he can't exactly tell the real reason why he's taking them down.

He doesn't want to think of the 'real' past, the 'future's past', he doesn't want to be reminded of the fact that Victor won't know him, that Victor wasn't here with him a lot more while he's in the room.

The skating world won't know what hit them.