Song mentioned; Prelude Op. 28, No. 15, 'Raindrop Prelude', composed by Frédéric Chopin.
Song mentioned; 'Only you' © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, written by Buck Ram, performed by The Platters.
The day trudged on as if mortally wounded. Staggering, ever so slowly, trying to endure the seconds that became minutes, which in turn became an hour. Then two. Then three, but not making it any easier.
There was a strange air to the Katsuki family inn now, making Victor think about the meaning of words. The consequences they brought with them the moment they became disclosed, the impact they had on not only people, but also on more intangible things. After Yuuri's reveal, the reactions that played out amongst the five people exposed to the sound Yuuri's body had made were unique. Brought on by every individual's way of coping and understanding, but also fears and, how unbelievable it seemed, hopes too.
In the moment, just after Yuuri had said what he did with words Victor couldn't understand but still felt the meaning of, he felt a calm. The sensation had been strange, the feeling of sinking weightlessly down into something that never felt menacing but on the other hand, not caring or empowering either. It was like he entered an emotional nothingness, his whole being reacting to the novelty of not trying, not deceiving anymore. Yes, it was a calm, without any kind of positive or negative value. It just was.
Victor had been watching the others as their reactions unfurled in front of him. Saw how Mari, almost immediately, got up and left. His eyes had followed her as she slid open one of the sliding doors to the outside, closed it but not completely and sat down. He'd heard her fight with her lighter, the clicks being fast and erratic at first before they eventually became slow and more deliberate. The prickly and intrusive smell of tar and tobacco found its way into the dining hall shortly after, as well as her sobs. She did nothing in her power to hide them.
His eyes had then turned to Toshiya, seemingly torn between the cultural responsibilities and expectations of a Japanese family man and the severity of what his son just had said and what that, in turn, made him feel. He fought an inner battle too, just like his son. He was better at containing what he was feeling, though, sitting tense with hands tightly clasped into fists on his thighs and his eyes locked on something Victor never saw. To Victor, it had seemed like Toshiya wanted so much but couldn't bring himself to take a step in either direction.
Victor knew what heartbreak was, and seeing Hiroko reminded him of what it felt like. She had shattered. Crumbled between the hard-wired reaction to be there, be enough for her family and the desire to let her own needs come first for a change, which made him see himself in her. It had been a horrid display of everything at once. A display of tears trying to be hidden, but sobs making it impossible. Of her getting to her feet, but sinking back down, bereft. Of names being called out with a trembling hand accompanying, no, reaching out after the owners of said names. Her voice dying out and her hand being retracted only a heartbeat after, internalising everything before the cycle started anew.
Against him, with his face buried in his lap, he'd found him. The person who had brought them all together. The person responsible for Victor feeling like he belonged somewhere. And to Victor, that reaction, that voice crying out into his lap mattered the most. Still in that calm, he'd leaned in and embraced Yuuri. He'd made sure that he held on to him, pulled him close, covered him as much as he could with himself. He'd whispered all and nothing for only him to hear. Words of encouragement, words of pride. Words of love, making him understand that he was his everything. For that was exactly what Yuuri was to him, his reason, the reason for making him feel there was still time, finally handed to him through an unfathomable distress.
For that, he was thankful. Thankful still, even though hours had passed, even though nothing else had been said. Because now, there was no need to rush. They were in Yuuri's room now, curled up on the futon mattresses on the floor. His chest pressed against Yuuri's back, his nose feeling the scent of his hair, the airy floral scent that differed Japan Yuuri from Russia Yuuri. Yuuri's breaths were slow, the way his stomach was rising and falling made the moment feel serene. It felt similar to the calmness and the ethereal sense of rebirth, just after a storm. When everything has been brought into chaos, only to be reminded that there is something there, something that can act as a comfort and slowly mend. That there is something after the turmoil.
With a slow exhale, he put his arm around Yuuri's waist. Not sure if he was pressing himself against him or pulling Yuuri closer. The result was just as good.
"Can I get you anything," he breathed into the nape of his neck. He would give him anything, everything, if he only asked. That resolve had been strengthened, morphed into becoming his own meaning and purpose during the hours that passed since their reunion, since the reveal.
Yuuri's voice was raspy, strained when he finally spoke. "You don't have to."
"But I want to," Victor replied, letting his lips touch Yuuri's skin. Everything he wanted to take, just hours before, he now wanted to give. He wanted Yuuri to feel loved, seen, appreciated, listened to. He wanted him to know that they belonged, that he was his and the other way around. Because they had been given time, all thanks to him.
"Water, then? And my earbuds. They're on the desk."
Victor slowly got to his feet, briefly mourning the dissipating warmth against his chest. He found Yuuri's earbuds and knelt down, handing them over.
"You okay, love?"
Yuuri sat up and shrugged as he connected the earbuds to his phone, putting one of them into his ear once he was done.
"Does it feel any different," Victor asked faintly, edging around the topic he wanted them to at least think about if they couldn't bring it out between them.
"It hurts. Constantly." Yuuri's answer came immediately. "But… it's done now," he said, almost under his breath.
"It is. And I adore you for that. I love you, Yuuri. I'm soㅡ"
"You always say such things so easily. Why?" He said it with a sorrow to his voice, with a tone that was resigned. With eyes that flickered back and forth, staying on a pair of blue for only a heartbeat at a time.
"Because I never had the chance before, before I met you. I have some catching up to do." He winked, it just happened automatically, out of old habit. Like… everything was normal. Just like that, his heart started to race. What if it could be, from here on out? Normal. I'd… like that.
Yuuri's eyes found his, widened a bit before they became soft, full of emotion as a reaction to what had been said.
Victor felt warm hands on the back of his head, inviting him in. Carefully asking him to come closer. Narrowing eyes and lips parting did just the same, so he accepted the offer.
Slowly, they tasted each other. It wasn't a meeting of lust, desire or passion, it was something else. Something new, something that wasn't meant to set ablaze or rouse. More like an affirmation, making them understand that they had started to walk together for the first time, slowly finding each other's hands as support and guidance.
"About that water," Yuuri whispered into Victor's mouth, breaking the contact with a sigh.
"I'll be right back, love." Victor stood up and headed for the door. Before he stepped out of the room where they had been both sundered and reunited, in every meaning the words could possibly convey, he felt like one more thing needed to be said until they were to see each other again. "I'm happy with you."
-xoxo-
It felt strange coming down the stairs. It was quiet. Unbelievably still. Time hadn't passed since breakfast, the emotions were still there. Festering in the walls.
Victor felt guilty, or maybe just a bit ambiguous. It was because of him the inn felt smothered by something invisible and menacing now, but he wanted to believe it was needed. For the best, for not only him and Yuuri but also for Yuuri's family.
How much it hurt to think about it, Victor had come to the conclusion that Yuuri wouldn't have a future in Russia. Not immediately after, anyway. Making sure that Yuuri's family knew, really knew, felt reassuring. They would take care of him, make him come to Japan. Let him feel what he needed to feel in order toㅡ
He will. I know he will. He must.
Victor took the few steps needed to reach the kitchen, opening the door slowly. Not surprising, it was empty. Life had left the heart of the inn, the one room that had always been the hub, the epitome of activity. He felt responsible, suddenly doubting if his decision of pushing Yuuri to tell his family was thought out. If it was caring, an act of love. Again, he'd hurt so many. Again, he'd done the one thing he'd promised himself not to do, namely tearing people's life apart. Simply by just being himself. Maybe… he was that storm?
He opened the refrigerator and picked out two bottles of water. When he turned around, he was met by Hiroko, standing a couple of paces away with puffy eyes and hands wringing themselves around each other.
"Hiroko?" What to say? What can I possibly say? "I'm sorry. Sorry."
As soon as the word in Japanese left his lips, one of the few he knew, he felt her hand on his arm. Softly, asking for permission. As he invited her in and put an arm around her shoulders, a stream of words, a stampede of sentences were spoken against his chest. Hands wanting to touch his face, hold his hands, feel what was left of him.
"I'm sorry, Hiroko. I don't understand you," he repeated. Trying his best to approach her in the only way he knew, the only way he'd ever been taught how to. By her son. But he had started to feel something stir inside, something that made it difficult for him to stay calm, stay composed.
"Vicchan, come. Come, please."
She tugged at his hand, beckoning him to follow her.
Yuuri had to wait, he decided, putting away the bottles of water on the countertop. He followed her obediently through the dining hall. She opened the door to the outside and they walked together, past a few rooms until she stopped and opened up the sliding door to another.
Victor knew that room, although he hadn't spent any time in it. Yuuri had told him once that it was the room he and Mari shared as children, before Yuuri had been old enough to have his own, the one Victor only knew as his.
"Come in, come here. We'll have to wait for Mari too. Stay here, Vicchan."
Victor entered. The room was small, rectangular to its shape, and he felt puzzled by the fact that two siblings had managed to share it for that many years. That is the spirit of Japanese people. They… endure.
Behind him, he heard Hiroko move around. He turned around and saw her peer out, saying something low in Japanese and stepped to the side. Mari appeared in the doorway, took of her slippers and entered shortly after.
They shared a look, he and Mari. To him, it looked like she carried the yoke of a person battling shame. And so, pieces started to fall into place, making him hold his breath. He could only imagine what had been said between her and Yuuri, but it was painfully obvious that she considered herself as an instigator. Something that brought on the heartache, the fire to the fuel that made them all end up in this situation. This new and shared reality.
"Mari? Okay?" It was a simple enough question and he got a simple enough answer. A slow shake of the head. "What's this," Victor asked, feeling that stir move around, act more alive and awake.
"Memory of you," Mari said, her eyes seeking his if only for a second. She pointed to the door opposite the entrance. "Come, Victor."
"I'm sorry, I don'tㅡ"
"I show you."
Together, in a one single file, they walked to the door. The few steps were enough to make Victor wonder. Fantasise about what they wanted to show him. Knowing it would have an impact he wasn't sure he was ready for.
"Here," Mari said, touching the door frame. "Mari and Yuuri."
Victor leaned in, desperate trying to make sense of what it was he was being shown. Apparently, it was important to both Hiroko and Mari. So important that they wanted him to see it, which made him both apprehensive and honored at the same time.
"Here, Yuuri. Ten," Mari pointed. "Mari sixteen."
Then, he saw it. Small notches followed by numbers were carved in the doorframe, together with Yuuri and Mari's names overlapping.
"Oh," Victor smiled. "Yuuri was this tall when he was ten?" He put his finger against the notch and the carved in name he recognised as Yuuri's.
"Yes," Mari nodded. "Here, last Yuuri," she pointed.
Victor looked up along the doorframe. Yuuri's name, again. He felt his heart flutter when he realised the last time the Katsukis had made a record of their children's height was when Yuuri was nineteen and Mari was twenty-five.
"He left for Detroit." Victor looked at Mari, and she nodded slowly. "This is amazing. Thank you for showing me this," he said with an earnest smile, his eyes travelling lower along the wood, registering Yuuri's height as a six year-old.
"Victor, too," Mari began, shaking her head a little when she couldn't find the words she wanted. "Memory of you. You mother's children too."
"I'm sorry," he started, "Iㅡ" Oh. Oh. Oh, god. I… You… I love you. I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for this. For giving this to him. "Yes! Please."
Victor turned his back to the doorpost, listening to Mari feeling around for something in the pocket of her apron. He had to close his eyes, he had to clamp his teeth together. He didn't want them to feel uncomfortable, not after today. He had too much of their suffering on his conscience already.
"Good," Mari said softly, beckoning Victor to step forward. "Finish."
Victor turned around, his eyes stuck instantly to where Mari was pointing. He had to fight his narrowing throat and his burning eyes.
"Vi-ku-to-ru Ni-ki-fo-ro-fu." As Mari carved Victor's name in katakana next to the horizontal notch, reading out one syllable at a time, her voice broke.
Hearing Mari falter made Victor's defenses crumble. His voice became unsteady, quivering due to the tension he was trying to keep inside. The one he wanted them to be saved from. "Hiroko, Mari… I… I-I just…"
"You always here. We never forget!" Mari took the small knife she'd been using and put it back in the pocket of her apron. It was obvious that she was crying, but she stayed true to her reaction that morning and had her head bent down. Not wanting to burden others, not wanting herself to come off as emotional.
Victor felt a hand touching his elbow, he didn't have to look to understand that it was Hiroko. Feeling that tentative touch, that slight pressure reminded him of someone else. Making him reach for her, hold on to her. Desperately needing the support as that locked away distress, that small and seemingly insignificant speck of fear and insecurity exploded and took him under.
The release was underwhelming. He wanted to purge, he wanted the grief to make a difference but the only thing he was left with was something parasitic. With every effort to wring himself out, the panic grew, infected him and took more and more of him in possession as a result. Making it impossible to keep up, making him desperate. He wanted it gone, he wanted it to be normal. He needed it to be normal.
He felt Hiroko's arms reach around him, touch his back and… another pair too? Feeling him, caressing him, trying to soothe. Not making any difference, but trying, really trying to share the pain he was bleeding.
What am I afraid of? What do I need them to do?! How do Iㅡ
"Please take care of Yuuri! Please! Promise me!"
Suddenly, he felt a calm. Like the storm had invoked a resurrection.
-xoxo-
Victor had to touch them before they parted. Feel their faces, kiss their foreheads. Tell them with simple words that he loved them, that he was honored to be a part of their family. When they separated, heading in opposite directions and himself walking up the stairs, he understood that they were bound together now by something else. What they shared together went beyond a simple understanding, beyond him being married to their son and brother, beyond the empathy for someone carrying the weight of knowing one's mortality.
His eyes were immediately drawn to Yuuri's face as he opened the door. His eyes were closed, his right hand close to his face. He looked beautiful. At ease, for some reason. The two rings catching the light made Victor's eyes linger, made him study his face for a little while longer than he had intended.
Victor put the bottles of water on the floor and quietly sat down beside him. He found his phone, upside down next to his glasses on the mattress, and swiped the screen. Spotify was open. Yuuri was, or at least had been, listening to music. His playlist with classical pieces. Victor studied the screen. Chopin, huh?
He took out the earbud closest to him from Yuuri's ear and put it in his own. The Raindrop Prelude. Chopin dreamt he was drowning once, making him compose this, they say. Feeling drops of rain on his chest as he felt smothered. Why are you listening to sad pieces like this, honey?
Victor leaned in and nuzzled Yuuri's jaw, left a kiss on his neck. He purred, wanting him to wake up. "Yuuri…" He traced his lower lip with a finger. "Sorry for taking so long."
A long inhale, a even longer and slower exhale. He was coming back.
"Sorry for waking you. Still want water?"
"Mhm… " Yuuri stretched and yawned before he opened his eyes. "I fell asleep."
"You did." Victor reached for a bottle and twisted the cap off. "Here."
"Thanks." Yuuri sat up and took a mouthful of water, placing a hand on Victor's knee. "Can I…"
"Stop being silly, of course you can." Victor shifted and untangled his legs, allowing Yuuri to come closer and lean back against his chest. "Give me your phone."
"Sure. You don't like," Yuuri glanced at the screen, "Chopin?" Yuuri pressed back against him, curling up with a stifled yawn.
"I do, but not today."
Victor took the phone, and leaned his chin on top of Yuuri's head. He thought about what to listen to, something that could make him declareㅡ
Perfect.
"Listen," he said softly, putting the phone back down on the mattress.
The guitar started the song off, and he felt Yuuri laugh against him. He knew that reaction was coming, they've had that discussion before. Yuuri found his taste in music to be as whimsical as himself, and in truth, it was. Victor loved anything that brought out feelings and emotions, even inspiration. All of the things he'd been forced to experience alone, although sometimes watched by thousands, before he had met him.
Yuuri's laugh brought out something in him too, something he addressed with a playfully stern voice. "I told you to listen, didn't I? Shh. Listen."
Only you can make all this world seem right
Only you can make the darkness bright
"It'sㅡ"
Only you and you alone
Can thrill me like you do
He silenced him. With one hand against Yuuri's chest and the other gripping his chin, tilting it upwards and turning it slightly to gain access, they kissed. When Victor felt Yuuri's lips against his, he let go of his chin, not noticing it himself. His fingers barely touched Yuuri's neck before they ended their journey, resting against his Adam's apple. It brought out a soft mewl from them both, something resembling a promise being sighed into the mouth of the other.
And fill my heart with love for only you
He felt Yuuri's lips almost vanishing, almost breaking the contact with his. It made him open his eyes slightly, feeling a smile tease his face. Yuuri wasn't going anywhere, he wanted more.
Only you can make all this change in me
They were facing each other now, separated by nothing but clothes, feeling the other's need through the layers. Victor hummed, low in his chest when he felt Yuuri's hands on his shoulders, not knowing if they or his mouth were the reason for him leaning back. He complied, allowed himself give in to the pressure.
For it's true, you are my destiny
When you hold my hand
I understand the magic that you do
He felt fingers lacing themselves together with his, his hands and arms being guided slowly and pressed down above his head into the mattress. Yuuri's tongue was begging to enter his mouth, making him grip Yuuri's hands tighter. He wanted Yuuri to sway his back and flex into him, needing the friction only he could provide. He put a leg over Yuuri's back, pulled him close, gasping when their hips dug into each other.
You're my dream come true
My one and only you
With foreheads being close, noses touching, they bid the moment goodbye as the music waned in their ears, opening their eyes thereafter.
"So," Victor whispered, "have you thought about practise?"
"Wh-what," Yuuri huffed in amusement.
"The Grand Prix Final isn't won by slackers like you, Katsuki."
"I, uh, must check in with my coach what he's planned for me. I think he wants me to do cardio today."
"He's smart man, that coach of yours. I hope you listen to him." Victor laughed and playfully bit Yuuri's cheek.
"Ow! I try to. He's the best. The best one I've ever had."
"I'm sure he feels the same about you."
"I… I think so too. I've gotten that impression."
Victor sighed a little. "Yuuri?"
"Mhm?"
"I love you, no matter what happens."
Yuuri let go of Victor's hands and scooted down, placing his head on Victor's chest.
"I love you too." Almost inaudibly, he continued in Japanese. "Even after it gets silent in there."
"Sorry?"
"Not now, Victor. Not yet."
Victor put his hands in Yuuri's hair, stroking it back in a seemingly endless repeat. "It doesn't matter, love. We've got time."
In retrospect, Victor knew that there were a possibility, although he never wanted to acknowledge it. A possibility for things to end up like they did.
He wasn't sure how to address it, now that they were home for the first time in a little more than two weeks. Home, within the sanctity of their four walls. Home, with luggage strewn across the living room. Home, with them both feeling disappointed but due to very differing reasons.
Clouds had started to gather on their way home from Marseille, after the Grand Prix Final. The closer they got to St. Petersburg, the sky had started to growl and as soon as the door to their flat clicked itself closed behind them, it opened up. Brought on a thunder that had to rage on for it to become still.
But it wasn't still, at least not yet.
"Yuuri," Victor tried, "listen. It doesn't matter." He was on the sofa in the living room, his eyes followed Yuuri as he rummaged around in his bags, unpacking by tearing things out of them instead of opening them properly. "Can you stop doing that?"
He wasn't graced with a response, which made him try again. Sounding more assertive. "I told you to stop."
"If you don't stop talking to me, I'm going toㅡ"
"What? You're going to do what?" Victor stood up and walked over to him. "Honey, comeㅡ" His hand was slapped away when it touched Yuuri's shoulder, sparking a heat that threatened to take over.
"Don't!" Yuuri's voice was coloured by a lot of emotions. Not only disappointment, but also anger. Sadness. Desperation.
Victor scoffed and walked to the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. He cursed himself. He should have known, he should have seen it coming. Yuuri was different from him, more in his head. As a coach, he should have talked to him about it, he should have done something. Anything.
He heard Yuuri coming closer. When he turned around, he was standing on the other side of the kitchen island, tracing the marble edge with his fingers.
"I know you hate loㅡ"
"It has got nothing to do with that!"
"Okay. Then what?"
"I wanted to! I really wanted to this time! Do you know that?!"
"I know you did. I was there."
"Stop trying to be funny! It's not!"
"I wasn't trying to. Yuuri, come on. It doesn't matter, not to me."
"But it does to me! When we first met, you told me that you would make me win the… And now, I've…"
Victor put down his glass and walked around the kitchen island. He let out a small sigh, and looked at Yuuri's hand. It wanted to be touched, he figured, so he let a finger tentatively skim the back of Yuuri's hand, getting a brief look in return before Yuuri lowered his gaze.
"How do you think it makes me feel? Not being able to… not being able to motivate you? Carry you through it? If anything, this is on me. Not you."
"No. No. Victor, I… I've failed you. I've done what everyone knew would happen when you started to coach me."
"Love… Yuuri, please."
"It's true!" Yuuri's voice grew higher, more shrill. "I've wasted your time! I took you away from what was an amazing career! I've…"
Brown met blue, and a shiver instantly rippled across Victor's skin. But he listened, held his breath.
"It just disgusts me! Th-the last thing Victor Nikiforov would ever do in his career is to coach a fucking failure! This is all because of me! I wanted this, I really wanted you to be proud of me, I wanted them to know that nothing you've ever done has been in vain but now… I couldn't! Victor, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, please forgive me!"
Victor opened up and guided Yuuri close, close against his chest. He just kept him there, tightened his arms around him with every ripple he felt against himself. He was hit by a wave of warmth, having him against him. He loved him. He loved his determination, his sense of pride. He loved his fragility, that glass heart of his. He loved everything about him. His Yuuri.
"It doesn't matter, love. You know why?"
He felt Yuuri move his head, not knowing if it was a nod or a shake which made him continue.
"I don't need any more gold medals. You're my gold. You've got nothing to prove." He heard Yuuri whimper, which made him kiss his hair. He needed that diversion, he needed to forget about that trembling lower lip, that anger that still teased him with its presence. In an almost too matter of factly-sounding voice, not knowing if it was himself or Yuuri he was trying to console, he continued. "There's Nationals. We have Worlds, if you stillㅡ"
"You don't know that," Yuuri sniffed against his shirt. "You can't possibly know that!"
"True. But I need you to find that out with me." He brought a hand to Yuuri's cheek, and felt a flutter inside when Yuuri leaned into it, covered it with a hand of his own. "Also… I want us to live, honey. Until then."
"How?"
"I don't know. Like we used to?"
Victor felt Yuuri let go of his hand and buried his face against his chest. He wasn't sure but he thought Yuuri whisper something, he felt his breath through his shirt and finally touching his skin. But he heard nothing.
If he had asked him to speak up, and maybe not address his chest, he would have heard something discouraging but nonetheless true.
"I just don't think I know how to, anymore."
