Movie mentioned 'Departures', © 2008 Sedic International / Shochiku
Two more months. Two more months. Two more months of this. I… I can take it.
Victor sat in bed, pinching his nose. Waiting for Yuuri to arrive with tissues. He often got nosebleed these days. At least once every day, often several times too. It was as if there wasn't a bad time for him to start gushing. More often than not, a sneeze or a slight touch of the nose would make him bleed. Sometimes, it started totally unprovoked. Sometimes, it started when he… exerted himself.
Small moments in time flashed before his inner eye. How he sprayed a scarlet mist all over the bathroom mirror when he sneezed, almost scaring Yuuri to death. How he got stuck with his nose when he put on a rather expensive shirt and ruined it. How he never noticed the bloodbath, consisting of blood and other bodily fluids combined, when he was pleasing him. That was awkward.
To Victor, it felt like he was falling apart. Getting more fragile by the day. His skin was dry, felt strange to the touch. He'd lost weight after four months on chemotherapy. He really didn't recognise himself any more. Nothing about his body felt, or looked, the same.
He could hear Yuuri's bare feet against the floor before he appeared. He had become used to this. It pained Victor. Immensely. He shouldn't have to get used to all this crazy.
"Here. We really need to buy more." He gave him an unopened packet.
"Open it for me, I think it's still going." His voice was distorted from pinching his nose closed.
The same ritual every time. Ripping the tissue, finding out which nostril that bled and getting the tissue in, hopefully before any blood ended up somewhere it shouldn't. Victor sighed.
"Here, give me your hand." Yuuri dipped a tissue in a glass of water that stood on the nightstand.
Victor silently obeyed. Is this what it'll come to? Down the road?
He loved his touch, how soft it was. He loved how concentrated he looked with that little frown as he carefully erased everything crimson that should stay inside. He loved him, and how he did his best to adjust himself. Adjust himself so that he could handle a totally new normal.
"You know," Yuuri said when he was done, "I read that there's this gel you can squirt into the nostril to stop the bleeding. I can try to get it, if you'd like."
"We can go. Tomorrow, after practise." He squeezed his hand. It was important to him to push forward, somehow. Not let the new normal set a distorted and pathetic standard.
Yuuri had been successful at the Asian Open, bringing home yet another gold. His second gold medal. Victor had been by his side, but he had been struggling. Thinking about it, made him sick to his stomach.
"Yuuri, relax your back!" He studied him as he was going over the free skate. "Bring up your shoulder a bit more! Good!"
He got back to his previous absentmindedness. Started to remember what it felt like going to Hong Kong, almost fresh off a treatment. Just like when they went to Japan. It had been harrowing. He'd kept it together though, although it had been nearly impossible at times.
The thing that bothered him the most was a somewhat forbidden thought. He felt his throat cramp up a little as it entered his mind. It was the first time I actually hated being at a competition. He didn't know if it was because of him feeling sick and being tired, or if he just felt… done. Done with that world. The stress, the pressure. The need to be on top of things. Maybe his decision to officially retire as a competitive skater had something to do with it, but he pushed that idea away. He had hated being there. Even though he had been together with Yuuri.
That's probably what made him feel sick, he gathered. How the thing that had brought them together suddenly didn't seem all that important anymore. How it started to lose its significance. It suddenly felt like a burden.
He felt a sting inside. I don't want to feel sick and tired of doing things with you! He had to leave. He felt it inside. It was threatening him. That feeling that had been manifesting itself more often.
"Yuuri!" He hated that it had reached his voice, making him sound weepy. He hoped that he wouldn't notice. "I'm just going to…" He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, indicating that he was going to go to the locker rooms.
"Okay!" Seemed like his tone of voice had passed him by unnoticed.
He walked off. Locked the door behind him as he entered the restroom and silently wept into his hands. He didn't want to feel done. Not with him.
Yuuri kept skating for a little while before he took a break. He sipped some water out of his water bottle and shot a glance at the clock on the far side of the wall. Two hours had passed. It was time to start going back soon. Usually, they would have longer sessions but life hadn't been its usual self for a long time.
Where did you go off to?
He found his skate guards and scraped the ice off the blades of his skates before putting them on. He wanted to see what was keeping Victor, and walked off to the locker rooms. He saw that one of the restrooms was occupied and decided to sit and wait, they were the only ones there today so it was unlikely that it was someone else than Victor in there.
What's taking him so long?
He decided to go and gently knock on the door. "Victor?" He heard a muffled 'mhm' from within. "I was thinking of cooling down now. Could you help me with the stretching?"
"Just a minute." His voice sounded different. Very different.
"Are… you okay in there?" Yuuri's heart started to beat both harder and faster.
"A minute, please, Yuuri!"
"You're making me worried. Can you come out?" He felt his pulse just about everywhere. The hastened spasms almost impaired him. When he heard the lock click, he realised that he had been holding his breath. He had to gasp for air.
He studied him intently as he came out. Tried to see if anything was different. Looking for subtle cues. Victor gave him just a quick glance before going over to the mattress in front of the wallbar. He laced off his skates and went over to him. Something was different, he could feel it. He decided to acknowledge that by stroking his arm.
They worked together in silence. Did the same routine. Strangely enough, the silence was something they both felt happy that they shared. They needed it to sort out their thoughts.
After going home, after stopping at a pharmacy and after eating dinner, they huddled up on the sofa. After a brief discussion, where they ruled out watching skating videos, animal clips on Youtube and a weird children's show that Yuuri found simply amazing, they decided to watch a movie. Victor decided to let Yuuri choose, he was bound to fall asleep within minutes anyway.
Yuuri picked a movie after silently flipping through the many choices at hand. He decided to pick a Japanese movie, something that rarely happened, and they made themselves comfortable. Ending up the way they almost always did with Yuuri's back against Victor's chest and between his legs with the laptop on his stomach.
"Subtitles, please," Victor whispered in his ear.
Soon enough, Yuuri's breathing became slow and heavy. Victor smiled. It was always like that with him, it was hopeless watching movies together. He loved that about him. He decided to watch the movie anyway.
It was about a former cellist who got another job, assisting with encoffinments. The man was shunned by his wife, who thought of his new profession to be tainted and full of taboos.
Victor instantly froze. His mind started to scramble for explanations. Why had Yuuri picked this movie? Had he seen it before? Was he telling him something without actually saying it? Did he really fall asleep?
He felt bad for the main character, who was seen as impure as he dealt with the bodies of the departed. Is this a fate he's going to share when he… when he says goodbye to me? Will he be tainted because of me? What if he won't be with me? What if I'm… What if I'm to die alone?
Victor really wanted him to be asleep. He couldn't get away, not like before at practise, and waking him up was just out of the question. He buried his face in his hair and inhaled, tried to keep himself steady. He zoned in on taking deep breaths as his emotions got the best of him. Purged him of tears.
At some point, they would have to talk about it. About a forthcoming departure.