A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Yuri on Ice.

I have no beta.

ENJOY!

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WARNING: CUTTING, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, SELF-DEPRECATION. ALLUDED TO FLUFF AT THE END.


Yuuri sighed, feeling terrible. If he could just get his nerves under control, his poor soulmate wouldn't be suffering because of him.

Whichever divine being decided that soulmates should share pain and injuries, needed to be dethroned and tossed into a pit of fire. Yes, he went there. He was sick of always getting hurt.

Yuuri's soulmate rarely got injured ever, which was what made him feel even worse than before. In his quest to be a great figure skater, Yuuri was hurting his soulmate all the time.

Years ago, he'd experience random pains and random injuries, but they stopped around his thirteenth birthday and rarely ever occurred anymore. His soulmate had either gotten less clumsy or were now a lot better at whatever they had chosen to do with their lives.

Yuuri was just bad.

So much so that he kind of gave up on the thought of being someone's soulmate. Like, he had a soulmate, it was obvious, he just ended up being the wrong person for them. They deserved better and Yuuri couldn't be that, so he hoped fervently, that his soulmate found someone else.

Someone they deserved.


Victor clutched his hip as the phantom pains of his soulmate made themselves known to him. Honestly, with how often his soulmate seemed to get hurt, Victor truly worried over their health and whatever kind of situation they lived in.

It couldn't be healthy to get injured in so very many places all the time. Victor found himself agonizing over the fate of his soulmate, wishing that they were okay and wishing that he knew who they were so that he could help them.

Victor was a crowd pleaser, and he flirted with practically anyone, but he was honestly so very fascinated over the whole soulmate business that he wanted to meet his perfect match.

So he silently cheered them on, hoping beyond all hope that they were okay and that they could meet up sometime soon.

A sharp pain trailed up his back and his winced.

It would be a miracle if his soulmate was not an abuse victim. He sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.


The first time it happened, Yuuri cried himself hoarse the very same evening, over his own selfishness.

He'd done it before he could consider the consequences. And when the blood was overflowing and dripping on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, he reached for the nearest towel and pressed the soft fabric to the long cut, hoping that he didn't just permanently scar his innocent soulmate.

Because of course Yuuri wasn't in the right. He couldn't even remember why he did it, it just seemed like something he should do, and now he'd probably hurt someone.

It was only supposed to be him. It was only supposed to hurt him.

But now he'd gone and hurt another.

With tears blurring his vision, Yuuri collapsed against the bathroom door, feeling the self hatred just boiling beneath the surface and reminding him of why he shouldn't attempt anything ever again.


Victor grasped his wrist as the sharp pain appeared. This was more than the usual lingering aches that he would get in his legs or hips, or sometimes in his back. Not like the headaches that happened in the evenings. This was searing.

Shoving his sleeve up, his eyes went wide at the sight of the long gash and the blood covered cloth.

Victor rushed off for a bathroom, ignoring the very sudden yelling of Yakov and Yuri. There were more important things at stake right now.

His soulmate had cut himself, Victor was sure of it. He had a feeling that it was willingly done and if that was indeed the case, what would drive them to do such a thing?

Were they hurt? Did something happen to them?

Victor was glad the cut wasn't too deep, for he didn't know how he would explain this kind of wound to anyone. And he didn't want to share this incredibly private secret about his soulmate. It wasn't something that was anybody's else's business.

Victor waited as he pressed on the wound, hoping to stem the flow of blood. No more cuts came however. His soulmate had stopped after one.

Victor didn't know if he should be relieved or worried.

He was still worried, though glad that this didn't continue.

And there was nothing he could do to make it better.


Yuuri's most recent failure at the Grand Prix had simply left him in a sort apathetic mood for a while. Like nothing could affect him.

And then he broke down in the bathroom, and found himself verbally assaulted by some Russian brat who thought too highly of himself. And if that wasn't bad enough, to add insult to injury, his long time idol didn't even know he had been a fellow competitor.

Life seemed to thoroughly enjoy fucking him over.


It came one night when he was reclined in his apartment. He hadn't expected it to happen ever again, but he then realized how foolish it was to assume that someone would only cut once.

But it had been a few months, so he couldn't be blamed for thinking positively. Otherwise, what did he have?

It started slow and torturous, causing Victor to get up and sprint for the bathroom.

Instead of gashes this time though, there were words. English words at that. His soulmate was currently sitting somewhere, possibly all alone, carving words into their own skin.

And the message?

I'm sorry.

Victor knew those words. He could speak English pretty well, though reading was a bit difficult. Still, he knew the basics of conversational reading.

Not good.

Sorry.

Panicked, and unsure of what to do, Victor rushed out to the kitchen and grabbed the nearest knife he could find. If he couldn't find a way to contact his soulmate through conventional means, then damn it he would do it this way!

Retreating to the bathroom and locking the door so Makkachin couldn't come in, Victor took a deep breath.

Kneeling on the floor and gritting his teeth, Victor took the knife to his own flesh, carving out his own message in hopes of doing something to help.

Not bad.

You not bad.

You need help.

There was a moment during the burning and the slight numbness settling over his arm, that he thought maybe his soulmate had done something worse.

But then words on his other arm finally appeared.

I hurt you.

I'm a bad soulmate.

I'm sorry.

Victor's head shook in negative, despite knowing that no one could see him.

No!

Good. You good.

My soulmate is good.

Don't leave me.

After a moment of tense waiting, a small message came back.

OK.

Relief coursed through him, and Victor dropped the knife, reaching for a towel instead.

He'd stopped it. He managed to stop it. Things would be okay now.

At least... he hoped they would be.


Yuuri hid his marks of shame, not wanting others to know about them.

He was embarrassed that his soulmate, someone who didn't even know him, had been so adamant about him. Had actually taken a knife to their own flesh in order to communicate with him.

It made his guilt more fresh. But they'd asked him to stop. To not… finish it off.

So he did. Because Yuuri had already probably ruined their life enough as it was. The shame of a dead soulmate would probably hurt them even further.

At present, he was feeling unwell because a video of him skating to his idol's program was blowing up everywhere. His name all over social media. He was trending for katsudon's sake!

Sighing, Yuuri slid the door open, hoping he could relax in the onsen by himself.

Instead of a blissfully empty spring, he found himself making direct eye contact with Victor Nikiforov. Nikiforov, who was naked and smirking at him.

"Hello, Yuuri! Starting today I am your new coach. I will see you to the Grand Prix Final, where you will win!"

Nikiforov was speaking accented English to him.

Blinking furiously, Yuuri turned around and left the onsen. He needed to think.

Why would the man want to train him? He was nothing important. Nothing special in the least.

As Facebook was currently saying, he was apparently an attention seeker, looking to coast off of Victor's fame by imitating him all the time.

He just didn't understand it.


Victor found himself greatly liking Yuuri, but there was a problem. He had a feeling that the younger man's reclusive attitude had more to do with Depression and Anxiety instead of him being naturally shy.

Yuuri was fragile when off the ice, but if put in the middle of the rink, he was fierce and beautiful. He took Victor's breath away.

But there was something worrisome about him.

After the arrival of Yuri Plisetsky, he'd worried that maybe that the teen would make Yuuri withdraw, but Yuri to seemed to treat him like one would any moody teenager. A slight annoyance that didn't have much of an affect on his life.

At least Victor could test Yuuri's competitiveness now!

His fingers trailed over the scars on his arms, wondering how his soulmate was doing.


Yuri had literally just kicked Katsuki in the ass and found a sick sort of enjoyment in watching the older skater rub his injured rump.

He then turned, intent upon asking Victor something about his program, only to pause. Victor was… rubbing his own ass. There was a discontented look on his face as he did so. But no one else was in the rink and he hadn't fallen, so how could he have gotten hurt?

Dread pooled in his stomach, and he turned to smack Katsuki upside the head, watching as Victor flinched suddenly and began rubbing his head.

What the fuck?!

"Please stop physically abusing me. It's annoying," Katsuki murmured, shaking his head in annoyance.

Yuri didn't care.

Victor's soulmate was this Japanese moron! What the hell were the odds!?

Suddenly frustrated, Yuri sat down immediately and began undoing his laces.

"Yurio, what are you doing?"

The teen stood once his skates were off, and glared at the silver-haired man he admired. "There's no point. You'll obviously choose your soulmate over me."

"What?" both Victor and Katsuki asked, sounding confused.

The idiots didn't even know!

Yuri smacked Katsuki once again and watched as both he and Victor reached up to rub their sore heads.

Both men froze then, and their gazes met. But not with the relived cheer that soulmates usually experienced when finding one another.

Katsuki looked ready to faint and Victor seemed ready to vomit. Or explode.

Either way, Yuri himself was done.

He stomped off. He'd simply win the Grand Prix on his own.


Victor stared Yuuri down, gaze intense. Yurio's words ran through his head.

"Yuuri… is there a reason for why you never where short-sleeved shirts?"

Yuuri instinctively grabbed his arms and stepped away.

That was all Victor needed.

"Yuuri, there's nothing wrong with it. It's your body to do with as you please. I just worried that you might take that last step one day, and I panicked. I couldn't lose you before knowing you."

Those brown orbs narrowed on him. "'Nothing wrong with it'! Of course there is something wrong with it!" He grabbed Victor's arm and pushed his sleeve up, revealing their joint scars.

"I hurt you!" the brunet insisted. "There is nothing okay about that."

He couldn't help but sigh. His Yuuri was actually his soulmate. The soulmate he'd spent years worrying over.

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around the younger man and refused to let go, even when Yuuri struggled.

For years he could do nothing but feel and wait.

This time, with Yuuri emotionally falling apart in his arms, he could finally do more.

It would take time, and of course they needed to get to know each other better, but Victor was willing to save Yuuri. Even if it meant saving him from himself.


A/N: The first is done!

-Any ideas for more Soulmate AUs for this pairing?

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See ya! :D

CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.