Ryuugazaki: Omg this section ends in a chapter (next week) and I'm not ready. It's like watching your baby grow up and go away to college.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
(Tuesday, 15 December 2015 – 5:11pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)
Yuuri's first action when they arrived at home was to go to bed and wait for Victor to text them. They had the opportunity to check their phone while they were in the Uber. Victor read their follow-up text, too. They would have to bite the bullet and call him eventually to figure out why he's acting so brand new. He may be Victor Nikiforov, but even he doesn't do that. Then Yuuri was "blessed" with another idea: Ask Chris what happened with Victor. Neither of them was preferable, but Yuuri would prefer to talk to Victor to fill the hole in their chest. They looked at the picture of the flowers he got them and sighed.
: I miss you
They told him. Yuuri sighed harder. But then their phone buzzed; finally! It's Victor!
Victor: I miss you too, but I don't want to talk to you right now.
: But why?
Victor: …
Yuuri sighed. They knew six things for certain:
1.) Sometime between arriving at the banquet and Yuuri waking up yesterday, they either said or did something to Victor that upset him;
2.) They're not going to get any answers from him until he breaks;
3.) He wants to be left alone until then;
4.) Chris might not be the best person to ask about this since he's Victor's friend; he has no loyalty to Yuuri;
5.) This is going to be a battle of wills;
6.) They're ultimately going to have to be miserable until he caves and decides to talk to them again.
They sighed again. They had no clue what to do with themselves until Victor would reach the breaking point, when he would reach that point, if he would ever reach that point, and what Yuuri should say to the people that know about them. Yuuri would – naturally – tell Khoudia. She's Khoudia. Yuuri would also tell Phichit… if Phichit wasn't acting so Hollywood.
Khoudia: Hoes
Phichit: ?
Khoudia: Aida and Yande are having a Christmas recital on December 18th and Mama wants to know if you'd like to come.
Phichit: Of course. Yuuri and I will be there.
Yuuri looked at their phone and rolled their eyes.
: I'm not.
Phichit: …
Khoudia: Yes you are.
Khoudia: Aida and Yande look up to you. You gotta.
: No.
Khoudia: …Don't make me come over.
: Have fun banging on a door because I'm going to be asleep.
Phichit: I live there.
: I'm putting the chain on the door so have fun.
Masabeeh: Whoa whoa whoa where is all this hostility coming from?
: Ask Phichit. I'm sleep. Good night.
Yuuri threw their phone under their bed and put their head under their pillow. If they're lucky, someone'll break in in an armed robbery attempt and they get killed in the process. Yuuri and Phichit didn't own much in regard to valuables, but – as the adage goes – one man's trash is another's treasure. They just hoped that the robber(s) left the hamsters alone.
#
(Wednesday, 16 December 2015 – 8:09am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)
Yuuri was in their art history class nursing a white chocolate iced latte. Victor came in and stopped in his tracks. "Good morning," Yuuri murmured despite the nausea in their belly and the lump in their throat.
"Good morning," Victor murmured. He walked over to the seat in front of Yuuri's. Yuuri remained silent and resumed drinking their beverage and drawing Hadiya at the windowsill. They left their phone under their bed so they didn't have to be bothered by their rink mates, the temptation of crying on the phone to Victor, and the temptation of going over to Olivia's, but they didn't completely withdraw like they intended because they have a MacBook and they needed to work on their art history paper. Phichit never came in the bedroom so Yuuri didn't have to talk to him which allowed them to work on their paper in peace, but they expected that they would have to have another taut conversation that left no one satisfied with him soon.
Victor reached into his bookbag for his journal and notebook. He turned around. "I have something for you," Victor said.
"Yes?" Yuuri said. They put down their graphing pencil and leaned back. Victor put an envelope on Yuuri's desk. He locked eyes with Yuuri. "Victor."
"Yuuri, I don't want to get into it. If I do, I'll start crying again."
"Then let's parse this out in the library," they suggested. "I don't want you to cry." Victor looked at Yuuri with soft eyes. Then he took a deep breath.
"No," he said. "I can't. I don't want to be alone with you."
"Did I hurt you?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm sorry that I hurt you. I want to make things right."
"I'm not ready for it. Just read my letter." He bit his lip. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Yuuri said.
"No, you don't," Victor said. Yuuri looked dubiously at the envelope. "It won't kill you."
"I wish it would."
"I wish I could," Victor said. "I love you so much I just want to bite your tongue off and let you bleed."
"That's extreme," Yuuri remarked.
"You make me feel extreme feelings."
"You make me feel extreme feelings," Yuuri said. "Victor, I've been so confused by your sudden shift in behavior that I don't know what to do with myself." Victor grabbed Yuuri's wrist, picked up the letter, and put it in their hand.
"Take it. I want you to know how I feel."
"You know I don't understand the purpose of your notes," Yuuri said.
"You'll understand this one," Victor said.
"Is it Whitman?"
"No," Victor said.
"Then I won't understand it," Yuuri said.
"Take the damn note," Victor said.
"I don't want it," Yuuri said.
"I don't care if you don't; you're taking it." Yuuri rolled their eyes and broke the contact between Victor and themselves. They put the letter in their sketchbook and shoved it in their bookbag. "You're not going to read it now?"
"Class starts in five minutes," Yuuri said. "I wouldn't have the time even if I wanted to." Victor sighed.
"What are you doing after your math class?"
"Home," Yuuri said.
"Is there something there for you?"
"The hamsters," Yuuri said. "What are you doing after class?"
"I don't know," Victor said. "I just know that I don't want to be in the apartment. I have nothing there for me – here for me – anymore." Yuuri remained silent. "I've been thinking about going back to St. Petersburg for a while."
"Good," Yuuri said. Victor looked at Yuuri. "You should go home. Rest, reset. Come back when you're ready."
"I might stay," Victor said. "I haven't decided yet."
"Detroit will miss you," Yuuri said.
"Detroit isn't the one I want to miss me," Victor murmured. He looked Yuuri in the eyes. He sighed and turned back around. He picked this seat for the day because he wanted to avoid the temptation of having the ability to look at Yuuri. Picking this seat meant nothing if he was just going to turn around and talk to them. He hated that Yuuri made them so weak in the knees and weak in resolve. He wanted to be able to hate them for what they've done to him, but he couldn't bear hating Yuuri. Every fiber of his being loved Yuuri. Which is why he needed to go back to Russia and stay there. If he was lucky, he wouldn't need to wear the ring. He'd be able to take it off and forget Yuuri ever existed and would go back to the closet he was so excited to leave.
Yuuri sighed and took a sip of their iced latte. Laura came in and dropped her bag and the two boxes of donuts on the desk. She immediately went to the podium and started to log in. "Hello class, today we're watching a documentary about Caravaggio." Victor quickly glanced back at Yuuri. They were focused on their hands. He turned around again.
"You haven't touched your phone at all," Victor said.
"It's at home. I didn't want to be bothered."
"Is that what you think of the people around you? Bothersome?"
"No," Yuuri said. "I just didn't want to have to carry something around that's only going to trigger me. You don't want to talk to me. I don't want to get yelled at by my rink mates over something. I don't want to talk to Chris. I just want to be left alone." Victor took note and turned around. "And now you're ignoring me. Again. If you're going to be like that, stay like that; I want none of it."
"Dually noted," Victor murmured. And, like that, Victor stayed turned around.
#
(Wednesday, 16 December 2015 – 11:19am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)
The documentary came to a close and Laura flicked the lights back on. Yuuri rubbed their desensitized eyes and focused on the back of Victor's head. "Congratulations, you have made it to the end of this European art history course," Laura said. "Please leave your final paper on the desk; it was truly a pleasure reading all of your thoughtful responses throughout the semester and I can't wait to read your papers." Yuuri took their paper out of their binder; Victor got up with his paper. He put his final on the professor's desk and went back to his. Victor turned around to face Yuuri one last time.
"It was nice going to the museum with you, Yuuri," Victor said. He put his ringed hand on the desk.
"Likewise," Yuuri said. They got up from their desk and gave their paper to Laura.
"It was a pleasure having you in this class, Mr. Katsuki," Laura said.
"Thank you, Dr. Heiner," Yuuri said. They returned to their desk and looked for their bag. "Where's my– oh." Victor was holding Yuuri's bag. "Thank you," Yuuri said as they took it from him. Victor and Yuuri locked eyes. "I should go. To math."
"I should go, too," Victor said.
"You said you weren't going home."
"I'm not," Victor said. "I'm going to find something to do and do it. Don't text me."
"I had no plans to," Yuuri said. "I don't even have my phone with me so I couldn't even if I wanted to." They walked to the elevator; Yuuri pushed the down button. Victor looked over at Yuuri.
"Read my letter," Victor said with an urgency.
"I'll do that on my own time," Yuuri said.
"Stop being difficult."
"Me? Difficult? I think you're missing something here," Yuuri said. "I'm not the one who started acting weird after the Grand Prix; you are. I'm not the one who's writing notes that explain nothing; you are. I'm not the one who's being so hot and cold. I'm temperate. I want to know what's your issue, what I did, what I can do to make things up. If you don't want to be with me, just say so, so I can live my life." The elevator came; they stepped on.
"I need to think about it," Victor said. "My letter says everything. Just read it."
"And I said I'll read it on my own time."
"I know, but I wish you'd just read it now, so I don't have to be in misery," Victor said.
"You're in misery, but what about me?" Yuuri clapped back. "What about my agony? My anxiety? My depression?" Victor grabbed Yuuri's arm and led them off the elevator. "Take care of yourself, but don't forget that your existence doesn't exist in a vacuum and that your errant behavior has real-world consequences. So drive me away if you want to, but don't think that I won't take the hint and move along."
"Is that what I'm doing? Driving you away?"
"Yes," Yuuri said. "You've completely shut me out. You won't talk to me. You're telling me to 'read the letter' but you won't just spit it out. You keep dancing around the subject and I have never been more tired of dance. You won't be direct with me and you know I don't understand anything that is any less than direct. You're being a fucking weirdo – and this is coming from King Weirdo. Pick a lane and stay in it." Victor walked Yuuri to the door of their math class. "So? What's your final thoughts?" Victor bit his lip. "Don't take forever deciding. I have a final to take." Silence. "Okay then," Yuuri said as they grabbed the doorknob to their classroom. "It was nice knowing you. I meant it when I said that I enjoyed going to the museum with you. I just wish things could have ended differently." Victor yanked Yuuri back from the door and towards him; he kissed them. He put his fingers in their hair and held Yuuri by their head. Victor pulled away but didn't let go. Yuuri's face turned beet red.
"I don't want this to be over," Victor said. "Go take your final. I love you. I'll try and be more direct with you."
"I mean, I don't have an option in not taking my final," Yuuri said.
"Aren't you going to tell me that you love me?" Victor weakly asked.
"I thought it was obvious?"
"I want to hear you say it," Victor said. "Tell me you love me, Yuuri, or else I won't be able to sleep."
"I love you," Yuuri said. They started to work their hands into Victor's pockets. Victor took a breath. "I can't believe I have to say it at this late stage, but I –" Yuuri got to their goal; 11:40am. They grabbed the doorknob. "–have to go to math." They broke out of Victor's grasp.
"Wait!"
"Victor, my class just started," Yuuri said.
"I won't hold you any longer, but come here," Victor said. Yuuri let go of the doorknob and stood toe to toe with Victor. He gently kissed them. "I'll see you when I see you."
"Aren't we going to– You know what, it doesn't matter."
"No, it matters," Victor said. "What were you going to say?"
"Aren't we going to see each other for Christmas?"
"Maybe," Victor said. "I have my reservations, but I probably will." Victor kissed Yuuri again. "I wish you didn't have to go and suffer in that class." Victor sniffed Yuuri's hair. "I just want you to take me home. But I'm still upset, and you have a final to take."
"What did I do that made you upset? I'll fix it."
"What do you think?" Victor said.
"Uh… breathing? I know I get annoyed with myself for breathing." Victor deadpanned. He opened the door for Yuuri. "Was that not it?"
"Go take your final, please," Victor said. He ushered Yuuri inside. Yuuri's classmates looked at them. Yuuri quickly went to their seat and kept their eyes down; they could feel the judgmental stares and they wished they could just skip their final and be with Victor, but no, they had to take their calculus final.
Ryuugazaki: Gave up trying to figure it out, my head got lost along the way / Worn out from giving it up, my soul I pissed it all away.
I recently got a whole bunch of Microns that I'm excited to use in addition to a pastel powder for shading. It is pink. I want to use it; I have nothing to use it on because I still don't know how to draw. (Even tho I am an art major with a whole pro bono art tutor…)