Yuuri just wanted to go back to the hotel and hide until they could finally leave the country and his humiliation behind. He'd come so far..and he'd failed. Spectacularly. And worst of all…Vicchan….he'd abandoned his dog. His best friend. He hadn't been there when Vicchan died, he hadn't been there to say goodbye. He felt like the worst human possible. He was being peppered with questions, questions he didn't know the answers too. All he knew was that he'd humiliated himself, he'd let everyone down and he could never show his face in Hasetsu again. The Grand Prix Final was supposed to be one of the most exciting events of his life, but instead it was the worst. It didn't even matter that he'd shared the ice with Victor. Not at the same time of course…but…close enough. He'd started when he'd heard Victor say his name, just as he'd been thinking about him. But of course he'd been talking to the Russian Yuri. Why would he possibly want to talk to me? I'm not even on his radar. I'm not even in his league. I came in sixth. I don't deserve to share the ice with him….let alone talk to him.
Victor had been his idol since he was a kid, not to mention the subject of his biggest…well..only, childhood crush. A crush that had mellowed over the years, fading in to the background but came roaring back to life the first time Yuuri had seen Victor in person at the Finals. Yuuri gazed at the Russian taking in the toned, fit, powerful body. The stunningly handsome face. That thick, shiny hair. He'd imagined doing so much better in Victors presence. Blowing him away…maybe even finally surpassing him. Or at least coming in second to him. He'd imagined going out on that ice and being Victors equal. Showing everyone that he was Victors equal and then…if they were equals…he could maybe, finally get to talk to him. Maybe I'll get a chance to talk to him….someday…..
Yuuri started when Victor peered at him out of the corner of his eye. Busted. But…it's like he heard me thinking about him…thinking that I wanted to…to talk to him. But that's impossible. He probably just felt my creepy stalker stare, boring in to his back. Great job Yuuri.
Victor had turned to him, a smile on his face and asked him if he'd wanted to get a commemorative photo. A. Commemorative. Photo. Like he was just some fan. Well what did I expect? I didn't go up against him at any of the qualifiers, and I came here ready to blow him away….and I came in sixth. Why would he pay attention to the person who came sixth? Why would he know my name? Of course he just assumed I'm a fan. But…I spent so much time trying to get to Victors level. And sure I came last…but…I still made the final. I'm one of six competitors. Six. It's not like there's a giant list of names to remember. I'm the only Japanese skater here. He didn't show any hint of recognition that he knew me. He didn't even address me by my name. He just….treated me like another fan. Thinking I'm not on his radar is one thing…but actually being faced with the cold hard knowledge that I'm not…that's a blow I could have done without.
But still…Victor was his idol…he was right there…asking him if he wanted a photo…he should say yes…he should jump at the chance to get a photo with his idol but….Do I want a commemorative photo? To always remember the time I made it to the Grand Prix Finals..the time I skated against my idol….and crashed and burned. No. I don't want a photo to remember that. I don't deserve to be here, with Victor and the other skaters.
Yuuri turned from Victors smiling, oddly hopeful face, grabbed his suitcase and started to trudge out of the rink. He could hear Celestino and Hisashi shouting after him, but he ignored both of them. He wanted to get as far away from the ice as he could. From Victor as he could. He didn't see the sad look on his idols face. Yuuri didn't hang around waiting for a cab, he walked the entire way back to the hotel by himself. By the time he'd gotten there, everyone else had already arrived. He'd hoped the walk would clear his head but he still felt incredibly down. And that was putting it mildly. He walked in to the hotel lobby, and it was like the Universe was playing a joke on him…rubbing everything in his face. Because there was Victor Nikiforov. He was asking the desk clerk something and quite clearly being denied. Wow…refusing Victor Nikiforov something? He must be completely immune to Victors charms, that's gotta be a first. Yuuri thought wryly.
Yuuri skulked through the lobby, blissfully unaware of Yuri's narrowed gaze tracking him the entire way. His only thought making it to his room, and then getting in to bed and staying there until they had to fly home.
Victor had overheard Yuuri's coach saying he had decided to walk back to the hotel, and after running some mental calculations, he knew that there was no way Yuuri would reach the hotel before he did. So he'd stayed in the lobby, Yuri for some unknown reason, lurking beside him. He'd kept an eye out. But after an hour, Yuuri still hadn't arrived, and as far as Victor knew…Yuuri didn't have the problem with directions that Victor did. Victor was convinced that the Japanese skater should have been back by then, he was either lost, or more likely…Victor had somehow missed him in the crowds of skaters and skating fans that were constantly coming and going.
Victor had approached the front desk, asking the clerk behind it for Yuuri's room number and...he'd been denied.
"We can't give out that information sir" the man had said to Victors polite enquiry.
"But…but….I'm the Hero of Russia….I'm Victor Nikiforov" he'd said, lamely. He'd begged. He'd pleaded. He'd still been denied. One look at the man had been enough to tell him his usual charms wouldn't work, so flirting his way to Yuuri's room was out. He trudged back to Yuri.
"Looks like there's someone who doesn't care who you are" Yuri said, smirking.
"I asked nicely…I even begged. I told him who I was…he didn't care…." Victor said despondently. "Maybe I shouldn't have given up so easily….maybe I should actually try flirting..it could...work…" Victor said uncertainly, the mans disapproving face looming large in his memory. Yuri snorted.
"You're not his type. You'll have to wait until tomorrow. The lady who takes the morning shift loves skating" Yuri said casually.
"Really? She'd know who I am! She'd probably give me his room number! She must, especially if I offer to sign something" Victor perked up at the thought. "Are you sure you didn't see him?" he double checked with the younger skater.
"Positive" the teenager said, his eyes following something, but Victor couldn't quite see what…or who. "Let's go. It's past your bedtime old man"
Victor let Yuri's comment slip without his usual comeback, and he allowed the teen to drag him to an elevator. He spent the journey back to his room plotting. He would hunt down Yuuri Katsuki. And he would get his damn photo. Victor startled himself with the thought. He didn't know when..or why he'd become fixated on getting a photograph with the Japanese skater. Number. I mean his number, that's what I really want. Victor paused and thought for a moment. Or…both. Both is good too.
