It wasn't the rain that put a damper on Yuri Katsuki's mood, nor was it the freezing temperature. If anything, he couldn't help but feel the weather was a reflection of the mood he woke up with. Because today was Thursday, and Thursday meant support group. Had Yuri's mother not paid so much for the damn thing, he'd skip. It baffled him to think a support group could come at such a costly price, but with a "professional" leader, there was bound to be some form of payment.

He sat at his seat, staring out the window, watching as the raindrops raced each other to the bottom of the sill. How he wished he could be one of them, racing the other members to the door of this God awful place. Aside from the already cashed check, the attendees of the meetings also convinced him to go. While he wasn't relatively friendly with any of them, it was always uplifting to hear someone's success, or to show a supportive face during someone's downfall. Yuri admired those brave enough to share their stories to a random group of people. It gave him hope that one day, he'd be able to do the same.

But he knew in his heart he'd never be able to; despite the fact that these people were his "family" (one of the many idiotic things his leader says), he could never shake his feelings of inferiority. Typically during these meetings, he'd sit quietly and listen to the stories shared, comparing them to his own. More times than not, his journey was a fairytale compared to ones others endured. So why was he here if his issues weren't severe? He knew the answer- his parents. Once they realized the pills weren't helping, they were desperate to find more help for their son. They'd explained the sessions to Yuri as a "way to talk about his feelings in which he won't be embarrassed." Little did his parents know that their son had found a new source of release: through a stranger online by the username Vic_Nik25.

Yuuri

Why on earth this building had the A/C on in this weather, I do not know. And why I, having run here in the freezing rain, carelessly sat underneath a vent is a mystery as well. I shiver, pulling my arms closer to my chest. A wasted effort, really; the front of my coat was just as wet as the sleeves. I remove my glasses from my face, their lenses riddled with water droplets. I wipe them on my jeans, smearing the water across them. I place them back on my nose, the smudge lines still prominent. Better than before, I thought.

"I'm glad everyone could make it through the weather! Please, take a seat! Why on earth is the A/C on?! Let me take care of that, and I'll be back in a jiffy!" The voice of our group leader, James Yardin, rang through the small room. James was a perky, small American man in his mid-thirties. As kind as he was, he annoyed the absolute shit out of me. He was always so happy, pointing out the "positive" things we have in life. He gave absolutely horrible advice, but he was a good listener and his wife made the most delicious pumpkin pie I'd ever had.

People pulled chairs from the corners and placed them haphazardly around the room, attempting to resemble a circle. I scoot mine closer as to not seem like as much of an introvert. I cast a shy smile to the people around me, who return the gesture. A loud churning sound comes from the depths of the building, and James comes bustling back into the room, a triumphant smile on his face. "There, heat! That's more like it! Can't have my family turning into ice cubes!" Polite chuckles sound around the room. I bite my lip to prevent a disgusted sigh from slipping out.

James pulled a chair into our shape, positioned across from me. He crossed his legs and placed his hands in his lap, flashing a smile at everyone. "Alright! We'll start off our meeting with turning to the people around you and telling them something pleasant about your week." He instructs. This was a practice we did every week. I usually just gave the same answer every time: my mom prepared my favorite dinner on (insert day of the week). And whomever I told would smile kindly, and then proceed to tell me how they saved a baby from a burning building or something extravagant and amazing like that. My life lacked the pizazz that so many others had. I shouldn't complain; the only times I ever leave my house are to grocery shop or come to these meetings.

Once our exchanges were said, we turned our attention back to James. He dug around in his bag like a madman, frantically pulling things out and placing them in a pile. Suddenly, he cried "aHA!" and sat back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. "I too have a happy story to share from my week. I was reading a bedtime story to my daughter- Green Eggs and Ham- and as always, I am taken aback by the creativity Dr. Seuss had with writing. So I decided to research him further, and I found this quote I want to share with you all," he cleared his throat and held the paper closer to his eyes, "be who YOU are and say what YOU feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." He looks expectantly around the room. What, does this guy think someone's life has entirely changed after hearing that quote? Sure, it's a way I wish I could think of things, but I doubt anybody is going to stand from their chair and exclaim that James Yardin's research has cured their depression. A chuckle escapes as I think of that image, and James' head snaps in my direction. "Yuri? What do you think of that quote?"

Shit. Memories come flooding back as I remember teachers mercilessly calling on me, knowing full well I didn't know the answer. All eyes are on me as I desperately try and remember what the quote even was. What was it?! Something about mattering and minding. "Well…" I begin, looking down at my hands. They moved thoughtlessly, first rubbing my jeans and then tucking themselves away in my coat sleeves. "I um, think that quote is going to have to do with today's topic." I finish. James laughs, his brown hair flopping around as his shoulders bounce.

"Yes Yuri! You're exactly right! But what does it make you feel like, emotionally? What did you think of when you heard that quote?" He asks. Why couldn't he just move on?! Call on someone who regularly shares their emotions. Grilling me wasn't going to get him anywhere; he's talking to the same guy who's used the same "good event" answer for the past 2 months.

"I… I dunno. I don't really feel anything, I just like it. I'm sorry, Mr. Yardin-"

"No! Yuri! We're a family here! You don't call your father by his last name, do you? Call me James, or Jimmy, or whatever you're comfortable with." He says lightly. I nod slightly, and he smiles reassuringly. "You said you liked it, right? Is there a reason you like it? Something you can… connect with?" He asks.

I should've known this was coming. James usually targets one person in the group, stringing them along with little questions until eventually they spill their life sorrows. I wasn't sure how truly effective it was, but I knew he wasn't going to get a desireable answer from me. "Well, I um guess I can connect it with my… parents? They always listen to me. And.. my, erm, family here too. They listen to me like… they are now." I stutter, avoiding eye contact. I look up briefly and lock eyes with a woman, who smiles kindly at me.

"Yes, we're all here for you, Yuri. Anything else? Any friends come to mind? Any memories?" James asks.

"My friends who I keep up with from school. They never minded me… and they mattered." I said. James nods and smiles, satisfied at my participation. He turns his attention towards another member, and I exhale a sigh of relief. I'd never been one for attention, let alone having attention while talking about my feelings. But I had to admit, it felt nice talking about the people I knew were there for me. It made me feel much less alone than I've felt before. And I hadn't even mentioned him.

My mind begins racing as I think of my online friend. I haven't spoken to him since Monday. He's been busy travelling, but I remember him saying he'd be back home today. I wonder if he'd even be awake; it was 1:30 pm here, it'd be only 9:30 am in Russia, and assuming his flight got in late, he'd still be asleep.

I completely zone out of James' lecture, watching the clock tick out of the corner of my eye. At 1:55, he breaks out the pumpkin pie and sends us home. I grab a slice and rush towards the door, hoping to avoid speaking with anyone, but to no avail. "Yuri! Hold on a second!" James shouts. I stop and sigh, turning back against the flow of people and looking at the small figure in front of me. Once everyone was through, I meet him back at his spot in the circle.

"Do you want a ride home? I'd hate for you to have to walk in this weather." James asks. A warm feeling spreads in my chest, heating the coldness the rain had left. Gestures like these always brought this feeling to my heart. Despite how annoying he can be, James was one of the few people capable of making me feel this way; happy.

I attempt to tug my coat tighter around me, but my midsection prevents me from doing so. I blush, hoping James hadn't noticed the awkward maneuver. "No, it's quite alright. My home is just across the bridge. Thank you very much though."

He picks his things up and begins slowly walking towards the door. I follow, trailing slightly behind. "I'm glad that you shared today, Yuri. I enjoy listening to you speak. How did you feel?"

Terrified? Pissed off? Self-conscious? "I was a little nervous at first, but it was okay. I felt a little better afterwards."

A relieved look comes over his face. "See? It feels better to talk. I wish you'd do so more often. I think you'll find many people relate to you." It takes all I have not to laugh aloud at what he says. Really? Does he seriously think the people in there- a majority of which are going through ugly divorces, childhood trauma, death- can relate their depression to a guy who's just lonely? Professional my ass; he doesn't have a good reading on any of us.

"Okay. I'll try and participate more. Thanks again… James. Have a nice week." I said, hesitating slightly as to not call him Mr. Yardin again. Who knows what he'd do if I did that again- probably take me to a ball game after our meeting and tell me how proud he is of me. Or some other weird dad-son bonding thing.

I walk out the door, the rain pelting me like frozen bullets the minute I step outside. I curse under my breath, pulling my hood up and sprinting towards my house. I blink every few moments to prevent water from falling in my eyes, but it does no good for my glasses. Dammit, why hadn't I just accepted the ride from the guy? Why must I be so stubborn? My breath creates fog in front of my face, blinding me even more. My heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. I stop, bending at the waist and resting my hands on my knees, completely exhausted. I catch a glimpse of myself in a puddle, taking in the sight of my flushed chubby cheeks and askew glasses. I can't help the disgusted sigh that falls from my lips. How have I let myself get like this? I tear myself away from the puddle and shuffle the rest of the way home, squinting against the harshness of the rain and the headlights of the passing cars.

I barely step inside the door of my home before my mother is racing to the door, a steaming towel in her hand. "Yuri! What is wrong with you? Why wouldn't you call someone to come get you? You're going to get sick now!" She exclaims, stripping me of my freezing jacket and wrapping the warm towel around me. I allow her to coddle me, ignoring the looks given by visitors in the hot spring. I am rushed to my room, where she pushes me in and orders me to change my clothes. Once the door closes, I gratefully peel off the soaked clothes, shivering as I toss them into my hamper. I put on some fresh clothes, inhaling the comforting scent of my home. The one place I constantly matter. I roll my eyes at my thought, urging myself to get James' voice and lesson out of my head.

I walk back towards the dining room where my father, sister, and mother sit crowded around a small television. I lean over my sister's shoulder, which earns me a look of disgust. "A news program flashed on the screen, portraying the image of a young man holding a bouquet of flowers. The header read "Victor Nikiforov wins fifth Grand Prix." "Who's this pansy?" My father asks. My sister, her mouth open as if she were about to scream, shoots my father a look of daggers. My mother covers her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter.

"You don't know who Victor Nikiforov is?! You sit and watch television all day, yet you can't remember the name of the most renowned figure skater of this time?!" She exclaims, waving her hands around like a bird in distress. My father offers only a shrug, changing the channel to a Korean drama.

"I didn't know who that guy was either." I mutter. Big mistake. My sister's head whips around 180 degrees, and I mentally begin writing my will. I back away slowly as she turns her whole body towards me, holding my hands in surrender. "Mari, I'm sorry. I didn't me-"

I turn and attempt to run, but I'm too slow. She jumps the couch like it's a hurdle and grabs the back of my sweatshirt. She tugs back, yanking me against her front. "I live in a household of uncultured people!" She yells to the sky, and leans into my ear. "You? You're coming with me. We're going to watch every single skating routine Victor Nikiforov has ever performed." I beg for mercy, but my cries are ignored. She drags me towards her room, the last sight I see being my parents laughing at my helplessness from the couch.

An agonizing hour later, I am able to slip from my sister's grasp as her shift begins. I race to my room, slamming the door and leaning against it, preventing her from opening it if she chose to pursue me. A few minutes pass, and I breathe a sigh of relief. She's given up for now.

Although I didn't appreciate Mari forcing me to watch ice skating routines, I couldn't help the fascination I felt watching the man skate. He, this Victor Nikiforov, moved with elegance and fluidity. It had to be one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever seen. He possessed the ability of making skating look effortless, leading ordinary people like me could step onto a rink and skate a waltz without any trouble. However, I know if I were to even step out onto the ice, I'd fall and make a fool of myself. The thought brings unpleasant memories to my mind; all the times I'd been the outsider, all the times I'd been alone. Growing up had been tough, but at least then I was forced to be exposed to people. Now I sit in my room, sulking, wishing I could be a socialite and have everyone like me.

But there is someone who likes you. The voice in my head snaps me from my reverie, and I quickly glance my watch. It was nearing 4:00 pm. My heart leapt into my throat; could he be online?

I'm at my desk in seconds, powering on the ancient machine, willing it to go faster. Forcing me to watch the ice skating videos had distracted me from the one true happiness I could always count on. The machine whirred to life, the glow illuminating my glasses. Out of habit, I moved the mouse over the chat room shortcut, and I anxiously clicked it.

What greeted me next was my pathetic excuse of a chat room page. My profile picture wasn't even of me, but of my old dog who passed away. My biography was left blank, as was most of the information on my account. The only information available to the public was my birthday, which was required so I could verify I was over 13 years of age and could use the chat room.

My friend list was even more sad. It was comprised of 5 people, three of which I hadn't spoken to in quite some time. The first was my sister, who added me out of pity. Following were two friends from my childhood, Yuko and Takeshi Nishigori. It brought a smile to my face to see the two had married, but I couldn't place how they found me on this chat room. If one of them happen to be online at the same time as I, they always send a "how're you doing?" message. I wish they'd skip this part and tell me about their lives; I thoroughly enjoyed hearing the mischief their children were causing them. They always inquire why I'm never around, and this is usually when my replies get spacey. I can't blame them though; I as good as disappeared after I dropped out of college.

Next was the only friend I'd made in college- a boy hailing from Thailand by the name of Phichit Chulanont. A communications major, the guy had the social skills to befriend anyone, yet he chose to stick with my sorry ass. He's rarely online, normally overloaded with college work and his job. Phichit always manages to make me laugh, but talking to him reminds me of what the friendship could have been had I stayed in school. And then I get depressed again and I begin evaluating my life and choices while Phichit rambles about hamsters or video games. I am grateful to Phichit for never prying into why I never returned second semester. When I told him I dropped out, he simply replied "I'll miss you!" and continued ranting about his new classes.

The last person, the one who brings me nothing but joy, the one who makes my heart race when I see is online, is Vic_Nik25. I came across this man on one of my darkest days. A stranger, he talks in a way such that I feel comfortable and safe, knowing he'll never tell anyone what I say. His profile is somewhat similar to mine; pretty barren, save for the required birthday entry. But it didn't matter who he was or where he was from. He was always there for me, the green dot next to his name now a visual of my happiness. And the green dot was there now.

KatsukiPCB: You're online!

Vic_Nik25: I arrived home this morning! I just woke up- I wanted to take Makkachin for a walk, but it's raining.

KatsukiPCB: It's raining here too! That gross, freezing rain that manages to get in every crevice of your body. I'm still cold.

Vic_Nik25: Why go outside, Katsuki? Now you run the risk of catching ill, which worries me.

KatsukiPCB: Don't worry about me :) I feel 100% now that I'm talking to you.

Vic_Nik25: That's a thoughtful comment. I missed talking with you while I was away. I was wondering why I felt so empty… it was because you weren't there.

A blush crept onto my cheeks, heating my whole body. My fingers fumbled around the keyboard, unsure how to respond. How was I supposed to respond to something like that?

Vic_Nik25: You're sneaky- trying to avoid my question. What were you doing outside? Out with a girl?

KatsukiPCB: No, that was not the case. I had a meeting today.

Vic_Nik25: Ah right, I keep forgetting it's Thursday. Thursday is your secret meeting day.

KatsukiPCB: It's incredibly tedious. I wish I didn't have to go.

Vic_Nik25: Don't go anymore! It makes you go out in the bitter weather.

KatsukiPCB: I wish it were that simple.

KatsukiPCB: Tell me, how was your trip?

Vic_Nik25: My trip? It was tiresome. Longer than I wished it were. I missed my Makkachin.

Vic_Nik25: You seem a bit guarded today, Katsuki. Did something happen at your meeting?

Shit. He could tell something was off just from the way I was writing. I hadn't told Vic about anything I've been through for fear I'd scare him away. But sitting there, watching his chat bubble appear and disappear, witnessing his concern for my well-being… something inside of me broke. The cracked dam was starting to split.

KatsukiPCB: How is it possible you know me so well?

Vic_Nik25: I take great interest in the people I care about. Everything you tell me is mentally stored and never forgotten. I know how we usually talk, and you seem out of it. If you need to, I'm always here for you.

It broke.

KatsukiPCB: I'm about to tell you something that no one has ever been told before. I don't want to scare you away. But if I do… I want you to know you've changed my life.

Vic_Nik25: Katsuki…

KatsukiPCB: It all started back in my childhood. I was always the misfit: too fat, too geeky, too weird, too something. I had two friends growing up, and was bullied for everything and anything. Inevitably, I got horribly depressed. I stopped going to school. I became a recluse to my room. No one bothered to see what had happened to me, because no one cared. I graduated solely because my teachers liked me and felt sorry for me. My parents, bless them, thought university would be a better environment because there were more people. This was a huge mistake; I remained a pariah and was, again, the weird kid that no one noticed but always made fun of. I dropped out after my first semester, failing, wasting thousands of dollars. I was… I am a screw up. And on the night of February 11th, I decided I was going to take my own life. I was good for nothing, hadn't given anything to this world. This world didn't want me in it. It birthed me, recoiled at the sight, and casted me away. I couldn't face my parents that next day. I stayed cooped up in my room, which wasn't unusual for me. When everyone left, I knew it was time. I grabbed all of my prescribed pills, placed the letters to my family neatly on my bed, and braced myself for what I was about to do. But something inside me prevented from bringing the pills to my mouth. It was screaming for me to stop, to get help. I can't help but laugh at this voice, for what help was I to get? No psychiatrist had helped. No doctor. No meds. My few friends and family had tried, but they couldn't see how fucked up I really was. But this voice… it urged me over to the computer. It controlled my body; turn on the computer, scroll to the chat room. Clicking connect with stranger, I have no idea what I thought would happen. There was no one who could cure me. And then… and then I met you. I believe it was fate that connected us that night. You talked to me like… like I was special. Like I mattered. And you made me smile and laugh, actions I hadn't done legitimately for months. Talking to you more and more made me less of an introvert. I would interact more with visitors, go to the store with my family, allow them to sign me up for support groups. Yeah, the group sucks and I don't feel it's done too much for me. But then again, I'm comparing it to what you did for me. And you changed my life… you saved my life. And it's something I can never repay you for. So thank you. Thank you for igniting my flame again.

I was crying. I don't know when I started crying. But it was out there, I'd done it. I officially told someone everything about me. I watch anxiously, praying he wouldn't leave. Praying he'd answer. Praying, praying, praying….

The chat bubbles appear. My heart stops.

Vic_Nik25: Tell me your name.

KatsukiPCB: What?

Vic_Nik25: Tell me your name and where you are.

KatsukiPCB: My name is Yuri Katsuki. I live in Hasetsu, Japan…

Vic_Nik25: I am coming to you. I want to meet you in person.

KatsukiPCB: What?! You can't be serious!

Vic_Nik25: I will fly out tonight, hopefully be in by Saturday

KatsukiPCB: What are you saying?

Vic_NikPCB: I can get a ride from the airport to your hot springs.

KatsukiPCB: Vic, what is going on?

Vic_Nik25: When I get there, I'll look for a Yuri Katsuki.

KatskiPCB: Wait.

Vic_Nik25: My name is Victor Nikiforov. And Yuri… I will see you soon.

Vic_Nik25 has logged off