On the way back, his phone rang. He contemplated not answering but the caller seemed persistent, making his ringtone loop time and time again. Finally, he gave in. Not paying attention to the name on the display.

"Yes?" He was surprised that he still had the sharpness of anger in his voice.

"Hey, Victor. What, is that the way you talk to your friends?"

His voice made him choke up. He knew instantly why he'd called and that more calls would probably come. Of course, it was probably spreading like wildfire.

"Hi, buddy." He tried his best to sound normal. Unaffected by his day, unaffected by what transpired at him, mere moments ago.

"What are you doing?"

"Walking the dog. Hey, I know why you're calling me. Let's not pretend this is a courtesy call."

"Heh, well… Rumor has it you retired today. What the hell, Victor? Why?"

"Yes, I did. Why? Well, that'sㅡ"

"You could have said something, poutain. Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, I just haven't told anybody. But I should have, there's no excuse. And, well… No. No, I'm not okay."

"Hey, you're worrying me! What's wrong?"

"Have you seen anything at all? Like, online?"

"Wh… online? No, I haven't. Seriously, Victor, what's this about?"

He paused a little. Feeling grateful that people had yet to start asking questions. He still had some time. But the bubble was about to pop, without a doubt. "That's good, at least. Well, buddy… I hate to tell you this, but I'm… I'm sick, you know?"

"What? Sick? Don't joke around. Wait, so this isn't a hiatus? You've really quit? You're not coming back?"

"Well, it's kind of fucked up… But I won't be, no. There's no way."

"Are you fucking with me right now? Tell me you are fucking kidding!" His voice was getting more high-pitched with every syllable. That felt uncomfortable. He knew he couldn't contain it if he started to get emotional.

"No. Listen, there's no way. I can't come back. Ever." He paused. Thinking if he should make it perfectly clear. He decided that it was probably for the best. He switched language, decided to speak French just to keep some kind of privacy. "I have cancer. I'm… I'm dying, Chris." It became silent on the other end.

He lowered the hand he held the phone with. He felt that loathsome quiver. He took a deep breath and let it out really slow. This wasn't going to be easy. And… this was the first time he'd said it out loud. To anyone else.

He went inside the building and walked over to the lift. He put the phone back to his ear. "Hey, you still there?" He pressed the button, feeling horrible inside. He just continued making people feel bad. Not considering their feelings at all.

The silence became broken, hearing sniffs and the same quivering whimpers he himself had been desperate trying to hide from Christophe just a few moments ago. "Hey, are you crying? Please, please just don't." His voice sounded weak. Much like himself.

"Wh… what the fuck, Victor?! How long have you known?!"

It was hard understanding him. Hearing his shaking voice, the small noises of bereavement made him fight the urge of hanging up. It was enough already, dealing with him. He tried to find that otherworldly cool, the one that could make him talk about it like it was something mundane. Something trivial. "Since March, it's in both lungs apparently. That's what you get for treating your body like it's special."

"So, at Worlds…"

"Yes, I already knew when we met at Worlds. Not that I'm going to… but yes. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't tell you." I still hadn't told him then. The lift dinged and he walked inside. Pressing the button to his floor.

The silence became unbearable, only interrupted by the ding of the lift as it reached his floor. He walked out and headed for the door. He found the keys in his pocket and looked for the right one to push into the lock.

"Hang on for a minute. Also, we're speaking French as of now, d'accord?"

He opened the door and let Makkachin go in before he juggled his phone and keys as he took off his shoes and coat. He's not going to get the satisfaction of understanding this.

"I'm back. You there?"

Yuuri held his breath as he saw him walk past the kitchen, not noticing him sitting on the floor. He wiped away the wetness on his cheeks.

The fact that he was speaking French hurt him. He could almost guess who he was speaking with. The fact that he was talking to someone else rather than him... No, don't. Keep it in, he'll get angry.

He heard the telltale sound of him sitting down on the sofa, sighing as he reclined.

"Come again? Oh, how he is doing? Well, as you might expect. Horribly. We even fought earlier, I justㅡ

"Of course it is! Hard is a goddamn understatement! I never thought that he would react like that, we've had this conversation before. He told me that I don't care if he skates or not. I mean, he couldn't be more wrong. That's all I care about!

"I know. Yes, I know. No, of course he's scared.

"I don't know. I'm just so tired. Every treatment leaves me wrung out, feels like it's not worth it at times, you know.

"One more, then a break.

"Until it shows up again, I guess? The fuck do I know. Hey, during the break, can we meet?"

He wanted to be included. Wanted him to acknowledge him so that he could apologise. It felt like he was doing his best not to let him in, not even noticing him. Speaking in French. Punishing him for before. He stood up and hesitantly moved towards the sofa.

"I'd love that. I'll have the last one in three weeks or so. After that and Skate Canada, I should be able to plan something. I hope."

He saw his beanie on the floor, he bent over and picked it up. It took all the courage he could muster to walk over and sit down next to him. Not too close. He got the briefest glance as he did.

"Yes, I'll try to go with him. Hey, wait a second."

He dared to touch his arm, just a little. Asking him to notice him. He wanted desperately for him to make him feel that he was indeed there, that he was a person. The response he got was devastating.

"I'm on the phone."

Their eyes met and there was no warmth in his at all. Like he was totally indifferent, like the butcher approaching the rabbit that was about to get skinned. He decided to give up, so he stood up and walked into the bedroom. Hoping that he would come to him, eventually. Like he always did. Tonight was different, though.

The orbited around each other for the rest of the evening. Both of them feeling that gravitational pull, but not getting any closer.

It was hard to tell if they made serious attempts. Yuuri actively sought out solitude initially, but made some tentative tries getting closer. Trying to make the ice melt. As soon as he was met by resistance, he pulled back and withdrew into himself.

Victor, on the other hand, was stoic. Inexorable in his decision to keep him away. Once, with a voice that sounded uncommitting, he asked if he had eaten anything. And that was all he left him with, not following up on his question.

With their backs against each other, they lay in bed. Both wanted to say much, both wanted to make it undone. But at the same time, they shared a sense of pride. None of them willing to take a first serious step. It was a strange silent agreement.

"Who am I, really," Yuuri finally asked. He couldn't take it anymore. He longed for him, everything about him. Even though he never played with that exact thought, he knew that they couldn't wait. That time was too short, not on their side. He heard Victor inhale sharply through his nose, seemingly holding his breath afterwards. He let it out with a sigh, eventually.

"You're you, of course." It sounded like he'd caught his interest, that his question had been interesting. Surprising. Undoubtedly, it was the best approach to make him thaw.

"I… I hear you say that, but it's… It really isn't that easy."

He stayed silent. It was always hard reading him when he was quiet. Was he waiting for him to continue? Trying to make him stumble on his way? No, he was interested, of that he was sure. He just needed to keep him that way.

"I can't really explain this," Yuuri continued. "It's like… you're taking something away from me. Something I need to understand."

"Understand? What do you need to understand?" Yes. He was really curious now.

"You are my context, Victor."

He heard him turn around behind him, he could feel his gaze all of a sudden. He laughed, seemingly amused by his choice of words.

He decided to let it pass, became occupied with trying to find the words so that he could make him understand. Get acquainted with the one thing about him that Victor never had to deal with before. Not until now.

"It's what I said when we were in Japan. I've always looked up to you. Crazy maybe, but you've always been my centre. And… as long as I am skating, I need you. I need you to stay the same. Without you, you not being there in the same way, it just… won't work."

"I'm still here."

His breath caressed the nape of his neck. It sent chills down his spine, chills of satisfaction. He tried to block that sensation out, now wasn't the time. Not at all.

"No. It really is different. I've been thinking a lot about this and… well, what I'm trying to say is that I just don't know." He felt the familiar feeling of emotions digging through him. Trying to make him do what he'd been told not to in front of him. He bit his lower lip, hoping that it would aid him to keep it all in.

"I just don't know who I am. Not without you."